Hi my dear people! What's up?

So...here's the next chapter of "Kingdom". In this chapter, the characters may act OOC a bit (Or a lot? xD) But I've to do it because of the necessities of the story. You'll find out the reasons if you think wasting two or three minutes of your valuable time (Pardon me :P)

From now onwards, it's going to be the prequel of original beyblade series aka Bakuten Shoot Beyblade. You all had a question: Why has Voltaire been so good? Well, this chapter has the answer.

Enjoy!

The upstretched pinnacle of the prayer hall was broken. Its shattered pieces were pityingly scattering on the ground, almost hiding their faces in shame and pain, burying themselves into the sands. Almost all the trees became bald, piles of ashes were beneath them, silently crying and saying that they'd been fresh leaves once upon a time. The sweet fragrance of the fruits and flowers turned obnoxious. Half-burnt petals of the blossoming florets were inaudibly looking at the sky, maybe complaining to the Supreme Being about their adversities caused by a bunch of non-humans. Odorous globules of juice were trickling down on the scorched skin of the ripe fruits. Before a while, flies and bees had been humming around them. Who could guess that?

The condition of the finest creatures of the Creator in the temple area was more woeful. Most of them were dead. Their ripped flesh, broken bones and blood-covered skin were everywhere on the surface of the courtyard. Like a thirsty pied crusted cuckoo, the soil was drinking the blobs of the crimson liquid which had spilled from their bodies. The wounded were moaning, offering their salinized tears of pain to the ground. The women were silent. Trying their best to cover the rest of their dignity with ragged cloths, they were looking at the white floating hazes, without blinking. Their cut hair, bruises and scrapes on lips, cheeks, around necks and all over the bodies were manifesting their miseries. Little children were screaming in fear and pain, almost ripping their vocal cords.

"Water…." One of them weakly mumbled. There was plenty of that substance inside their lacrimal glands. Irony, that couldn't be drunk.

Just before a few moments, things hadn't been like that. They'd been jolly and cheerful, they'd been lively and vibrant. The aura had been representing the ethereal glow and glory of heavens. Nonetheless, it was worse than the hells. The air stopped blowing in its typical rhythm. Only the greatest star called sun was scorching in the mid-day sky, so were the alive.

It was the first time in Japan when the balanced cycle of seasons got interrupted.

Just like the footsteps of a slow, yet royal elephant, the footprints of a certain bald guy fell on the patch. He could easily be identified by his gray eyebrows and thick mustaches beneath his nose. He was wearing a white kimono under a pleated outer robe that was black and long-sleeved, wrapping a bright yellow shawl around his shoulders. His eyes glossed with tears when they met the witnesses and evidences of the unfortunate events that had taken place there. Then again, his jaw was tightened as he gritted his fists.

"Master Stanley, do you need anything?" Behind him, one of his assistants queried, worried for his master.

"Hmm…" He nodded, turning back, "Take these people to my secret abbey. Perform the last rites of the dead, make arrangements for the proper treatment for the wounded. Call our ladies to help the destitute women and children here. Make hurry. Be careful so that the demons cannot track our paths."

"Alright, Master Stanley." The servant nodded.

Before the sun had set, all arrived at a new and unique place, following the trail of great sage. The secret base of Stanley Dickenson was inside a deep forest. Let alone a human being, the wild animals couldn't find it easily. There were tall trees with clustering leafy heads, surrounding the hermitage. Several huts made of straws and wood were there too. At a corner, two earthen burners were filled with kindling and dry leaves as fuels. Beside it, wooden, earthen and metal utensils were kept on bamboo-benches. Behind a few bushes, a creek was flowing, supported by a series of highlands and a gorgeous cascade. The white streams of it reminded the people of fresh milk extracted from a ewe's udders. Air behaved naturally there. Ripe and luscious fruits were hanging from the branches of the trees. Flowers were blooming, birds were tweeting and bees were humming around their hives. Yet, the people were horrified. The heavenly atmosphere of the monastery couldn't bring smiles to their faces.

"People, you're safe here," The great mentor cleared his throat, "Just don't go outside without informing me. We have to tie our cattle and horses properly to the poles and trees because it will bring trouble for us if one of them gets out. Foods are insufficient here but water is unlimited," He pointed at the ever-flowing waterfall, "Women, children and old people will stay inside the huts. I have gathered enough weapons for you."

He approached an open cabin. There was a cotton sheet laid over a wooden tool. Dickenson removed the cover from the top of the worktop. It displayed a bunch of axes, swords, scimitars, javelins, bows and arrows which were almost glimmering, saying that they were brand new and unused. Seeing them, the crazed hearts of the refugees appeased as they got a bit of confidence back.

"If needs be, you may use them," Stanley affirmed, "Any of you."

"But….how long?" One of the expatriates asked desperately, taking signs of worries all over his face, "How long do we have to hide from those monsters? When will we all be able to walk freely and unworriedly in the streets of our own country?"

The sage didn't answer immediately. He took a few steps around the people, holding a stoic and staid mien. Closing his eyes, he thought something. Then, he cared to reply:

"Until we find such a warrior who can break this wheel of miseries."

"But where?" Another one couldn't hold his curiosity, "Where will we find him?"

"You don't need to worry about that, young man," Dickenson placed his hand on his shoulder, pondering, 'I know the one who can help me. The fact is…..whether he will want to help me or not…'

He was impatiently strolling inside another temple. This temple was quite different from the previous one. It was roofless, door-less, consisting of only some agate-made arcades and high limestone columns. The sun had set just then, still its coral glows were spreading throughout the sky, descending on the earth somehow. Birds could be seen there, flying towards their nests. Some torches were attached to the pillars, burning and trying to play the role of the light-giving star. Because of their boogying flames and the diffracting nature of light, his shadow appeared on the floor. He smirked, seeing that. However, that grin vanished as his eyes fell on the shadow of another figure, standing behind him. Startled, he rotated back. His fluctuating smile backed again. The person wasn't unfamiliar to him at all.

"Nice to see you once again, Stanley," The Russian sage greeted, "It's been a while since we met."

"Oh Alexandrov," Dickenson bowed, "Your backstabbing nature hasn't gone yet, has it?"

"Hehehe…" Alexandrov smirked, "At least I'm cool-tempered though I have to admit that I'm not fearless like you who can dare curse the mightiest king of the world."

"Hmm…"

Flashback:

"How dare you, King Voltaire!"

The Japanese snapped. His eyes were bloodshot, cheeks were flushed. He was fuming as hot carbon-di-oxide came out through his nostrils. Before it, nobody had seen him being furious. He'd always been calm and cool…at least not ill-tempered at all. What had happened to him all of a sudden?

In front of him, the Russian emperor was standing, bowing his head down. It was true that he never liked to do that but he had to, he had to at that moment because he was guilty. Yes, truly guilty. Biting his lower lip, he was cursing himself madly. He had never wanted to do that but he didn't know how he had ended up there.

"You old wizard!" Stanley seethed, gritting his teeth, "How did you dare rape my student? What was her fault?"

"Pardon me, great sage," He whispered as his ears turned cerise, "I didn't do it intentionally. I was drunken then."

"Drunken?" Dickenson raised an eyebrow, "You couldn't give up consuming alcohol, could you? How many times did I forbid you to do that, Voltaire, how many times?"

The tsar didn't have any logical answer for the precious question. He couldn't utter a single word. He kept curving his head down which was meant to be upstretched always.

"I'm cursing you, Hiwatari!" The sage pointed at him, "In your next life, you'll be the evilest person of the world, craving for nothing but power. You'll be so crude…so crude that even the crudest man of this time will be bound to obey your orders and be your assistant. Not only that, you'll start hating the person who is the dearest to you of all people in this life."

Voltaire gasped. An image of his beloved grandson drifted in front of his eyes. His blameless smile, his round, innocent amethyst eyes, his moon-like face…..

"Yes, Voltaire Hiwatari," Dickenson didn't stop, "I don't know who he or she is but your relation will be the same then. However, you won't know to perform your duties as a relative or whatever….you will only know how to use him or her. You'll want to make him or her a mere puppet of you. Soon, you'll make him or her evil just like you. Like you, he or she'll be power-hungry. The person will hate you too in return….so much that he or she will want to make your blood spill. In short, you both will be thirsty….thirsty for each other's blood….thirsty for power. For that, you both can go to any extent."

"No, great sage!" He raised his eyes, almost kneeling down on the floor, "Don't curse me in this way! I….I can never imagine it even in my dreams!"

"Couldn't this thought visit your mind when you were tending to have fun with my student, Hiwatari?" The Japanese mentor rolled his eyes, "Besides, my words are like launched arrows. I'm sorry but I cannot bring them back. You deserve it, the mightiest emperor of the world!"

"Stop there right now, sage!"

The soldiers rushed to him, aiming their spears at his head, encircling him completely. The bald guy didn't gasp a bit. His eyes were set on the powerful, yet powerless ruler of Russia.

"Put them back, soldiers!"

The king stood up, ordering the troop. The battalion had never been late to follow his command before it. But this time, for an unknown reason, they were hesitating.

"But….your Majesty," Their leader gently objected, "He has misbehaved with you."

"I said to put them back!" Voltaire bellowed, turning back to his usual form.

Baffled, the guards lowered their javelins and freed the learned person. He grimaced, watching them marching backwards.

"Pardon me, sage Dickenson," Voltaire lowered his gazes, "You're right. I deserve this curse. But….please…."

Unbelievably, tears exploded out from his eyes, drenching his cheeks completely. Once again, he joined his hands together.

"My grandson is innocent!" He sobbed, "He's still a four-year old boy who knows nothing about the cruelty of this world. Please, don't involve him….."

The expression of the great educator mellowed a bit. Suddenly, he started feeling sorry for the so-called powerful man standing in front of him.

"Okay," After a pregnant pause, he responded, "Voltaire, as I said before, I cannot bring my words back. But….I'm blessing him. In his next life, he'll get such friends who will help him. Those guys will be brave, righteous and intelligent. They'll stand by him. Whenever he needs help, they'll be there for him. Those great warriors will show him the path of light. They will teach him the meaning of love, friendship and honesty. Together, they will preach justice and truth throughout the entire world. Maybe, he'll try to walk along your path but believe me, he won't be successful. His friends will make him realize his faults."

The agonized heart of the stranded king felt relieved as he sighed in comfort.

"Thank you so much, Sir," He expressed his gratitude, bowing once again, "I'll be grateful to you for this."

"No need," Not caring, Dickenson started walking towards the doorway of the castle. Before taking his last step, he turned back and advised:

"From now onwards, give up drinking."

Flash forward:

"You must know the reason behind my behavior, Alexandrov," Dickenson tried to show logic, "I cannot tolerate such sins, don't know why."

"Don't push yourself, Stanley," The Russian man kept a hand on his shoulder, "Your action wasn't illogical at all, you know. By the way, do you need anything from me for which you've called me here?"

"Yes," He nodded, "My country has been attacked by some demons."

"What?" The gentle, majestic appearance of the mentor got disturbed a bit. An awkward wave of worries passed across his face.

"Yeah," Dickenson acknowledged, "For defeating them and protecting my kingdom, I need a perfect and worthy warrior. He should be strong, along with having the mentality of learning something new always. He must be rough and tough from outside, not from inside. He should be such a guy seeing whom the enemies shiver but smiles rise in the faces of the general people. I hope you're understanding."

"Hmm."

"So, do you know someone having my mentioned qualities?"

"Yes."

"Who's he?" Forgetting his usual nature, he restlessly asked because the thing he was being tensed about the most was the safety of his motherland.

"The same guy who was both cursed and blessed by you once upon a time," Alexandrov walked off, crossing his arms on his chest, "That time, he was a four-year old kid. This time, he's been a fierce warrior and the worthiest of all princes of Russia ever. He's my most favorite student."

Spellbound, the saint kept standing there silently for a few moments. The glows of sunshine were no more then, stars were appearing in the dark blue. A cold, yet expanding breeze blew around them.

"Alexandrov…." He spoke, "I want to meet him."

"Sure."

"So…...let's break the wheel of miseries!"

"Leave me alone!" The young lady was scuffling against the strong grasps of the soldiers, helplessly screaming as tears were wringing her reddish cheeks, "I want to live! I don't want to die so young!"

"I'm sorry, my lady," The chief minister of the court had no sign of emotion all over his face, "But this is the rule of our kingdom. You've to perform the custom."

The queen of Russia was standing on the floor of the second level of her palace. Seeing the sorrows of the newly widowed girl, a droplet of tears seeped down from her eyes. She heaved a sigh, turning her face away from the scene. She had emotions like other human beings but she respected the scriptures composed by the sages of previous ages. Actually, she feared them. She was afraid of the punishments and curses. That's why, she had nothing to do.

"Leave the lady, Sir," Out of the blue, a bold voice could be heard, "Real men never wrestle with an innocent woman."

Hearing him, the empress got startled. Leaving the widow and being disciplined, the soldiers stood in a row and bowed.

The owner of the voice appeared to be a certain slate-haired young man of 20, striding and standing in front of the woman. Seeing her condition, his lotus eyes glittered but he tried his best not to get his emotions overflowed.

"What were you doing?" Turning to the minister, he calmly asked, "Is it a way to behave with a woman?"

"Pardon me, Prince," He bent forward, "But…..she's not ready to perform the eternal custom of Russia. Yesterday, her husband died by an accident. Since she has no child, she has to be immolated now according to our practices."

Again, the phoenix-prince looked at the widow who was violently shuddering. As her eyes met his, she knelt down.

"Please save me, prince…." She sobbed, "I'm a Japanese. Before 24 years, my parents came here. Still I have some relatives living in Japan. I….I don't want to die so soon, prince."

Not uttering a single word, Kai approached her. Gently holding her shoulders, he helped her stand up on her own feet.

"My lady…" His voice was unexpectedly soft, "You don't need to die so soon. I promise you, I'll help you meet your relatives."

"What?" The minister protested, "Prince Kai, you cannot ignore our usual rituals in this way!"

"Rituals are meant for being changed, Sir," He responded, "Besides, I cannot ignore the request of one of our subjects too."

"But Kai…."

Hearing the acquainted tone, he looked at her. His mother was standing there, getting down from the porch.

"Mother…." He verbalized, after respectfully greeting her, "You're a woman too, aren't you? Then…how are you bearing it?"

"Son….it's our tradition," Apraxia explained, "We cannot go against it. I know that a question is rising inside your heart. It's natural. Well, your father died when I was pregnant. According to our rules, the pregnant widows and widowed mothers don't need to perform it. Otherwise, it should be carried out."

"Why?"

"Because….without a mother, a child is stranded," The queen didn't waste much time to answer, "A mother is revered not only in Russia, but also throughout the whole world."

"Can Russia give birth?"

"What?" The minister approached, "Why're you asking this silly question to us, prince? Russia is a kingdom, a non-living being. Then how?"

"Then…why do we call her 'Mother Russia'?"

An awkward silence covered the area. The question rose like an arrow, stabbing the superstitions of dark periods, shutting up the people and making them be dumbfounded. They exchanged stares with one another, trying to find a suitable answer and failing miserably.

"If Russia can be our mother despite not giving birth to us, this woman can also be a mother without being pregnant," He had never talked so much but his goal was only to save the woman standing before him, "Motherhood lies in every woman. Besides, once upon a time, my grandfather told me that I'm the son of Russia and her people. Be him straight or metaphorical, currently, I'm also the son of the lady standing before me. Hence, she cannot be burnt."

"My son….."

The empress sniveled, patting the head of her son, "You're right. I also felt bad for those poor women. I wanted to save them but I could do nothing because of the fear. But today, you've proved yourself. You're brave enough and that's why, you've dared oppose the malpractice that we had been practicing here since ages. I appreciate your courage and sense of humanity, Kai."

Turning to the people, she announced, "I, Apraxia Hiwatari, the empress of Russia, hereby announce that the culture of burning the childless widows has been banned just now. Also, the families of the widows who were killed earlier will be my responsibilities."

The audience went silent for a tick. Then, they burst into wild applauses, jubilating. The minister lowered his head down in shame. But deep inside his heart, he felt happy a bit, soon joining the huzzas.

"Hail Her Highness of Apraxia Hiwatari!"

"Hail Prince Kai Hiwatari!"

"Thank you so much, your Highness!" The captive burst into tears, "I'll be grateful to you forever."

"Don't thank me, my child," Apraxia embraced her shoulders, "Until you're returning to your homeland, you're staying with us in our palace. Besides, if you want to be grateful, express your gratitude to Kai. He's the one who has opened my eyes today. He's the one who has saved your life."

"Prince Kai…" The widow mused, "Really, you're the one. You won't be lucky if you get the throne of Russia but the throne itself will be fortunate if it gets you as its owner. The more this Mikoto will thank you, the less it will be."

He didn't speak anything, just smiled that made the girl feel relieved. She let her tears flow down, closing her eyes. In front of her vision, Kai appeared like a deity. One of the hands of the deity held an arrow, another was inclosing a candle-holder in which a taper was burning. A strange gleam was spreading from his body. His eyes were closed, lips formed a contended smile.

"Pardon me, your Highness and prince Kai!"

A soldier interrupted as the mother-son duo turned to him.

"What happened, soldier?" The queen asked, approaching him.

"Sage Stanley Dickenson has come to meet you, your Highness," He replied, "He's waiting for you."

She screwed her eyebrows, wondering, 'Sage Dickenson? All of a sudden? What's the reason?'

"Soldier, make proper arrangements for him," The queen ordered, "Make sure so that there can be no fault in our hospitality. I'm coming."

Kai watched his mother leaving the place. He frowned, drowning in the ocean of thoughts.

'Something must be wrong…..'

So...how was it? Good or bad?

Do read and review. Pardon the grammatical and the spelling errors, along with the OOCness! Take care :*

-Misty ^_^

P.S: How was the event of Voltaire being cursed by Mr.D? Did you like it? xD