Please forgive me if this story sucks. This is my very first fanfic. I
stated on it over a year ago (like 2 days before 9-11) and then for got
about it. I just found it a week ago and revamped it a bit. So hopefully
you will enjoy it. It is short but that's cause if you don't like the
beginning I'm not going to spend and hour or 2 typing crap.
-Ama Sami Chan ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------- PROLOG: Long ago before common people could read or write. When stories where passed on by mouth. When heroes were created by slaying dragons and destroying the creatures of the shadows. This was a land where the people lived in fear of their king, Ozamandious. With his reign he brought poverty and disease. His greed spread though the men like a plague. Their basic desires and what they thought to be needs became glory, money, fame, and women (in that order). The only hope for the land was Ozamandious' bastard child Endymion. When the boy was very little the King tried to get his son to follow in his footsteps but his effort was fruitless. He was too kind and gave all he could to his people. For this alone Endymion had to die. With him out of the way Ozamandious' evil could spread but until that came goodness would lurk just around the corner. The young prince had to move every night, evading his fathers' minions. Such a life for a boy of eight years. He knew it was a necessity and accepted it. What else could he do? It was this or death.
-Ama Sami Chan ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------- PROLOG: Long ago before common people could read or write. When stories where passed on by mouth. When heroes were created by slaying dragons and destroying the creatures of the shadows. This was a land where the people lived in fear of their king, Ozamandious. With his reign he brought poverty and disease. His greed spread though the men like a plague. Their basic desires and what they thought to be needs became glory, money, fame, and women (in that order). The only hope for the land was Ozamandious' bastard child Endymion. When the boy was very little the King tried to get his son to follow in his footsteps but his effort was fruitless. He was too kind and gave all he could to his people. For this alone Endymion had to die. With him out of the way Ozamandious' evil could spread but until that came goodness would lurk just around the corner. The young prince had to move every night, evading his fathers' minions. Such a life for a boy of eight years. He knew it was a necessity and accepted it. What else could he do? It was this or death.