.::Chapter 1::. The God's Call
It was a bright and cheery spring morning in the kingdom of Symphonia. But to me, it was a dull and mournful day.
Exactly two years ago on this very day, I had lost my parents of 11 years to the clutches of Loredon's enemy: The kingdom of Arania. The only memory I bore of them was their eternal kindness which they shone freely like the sun. My mother Lorraine: princess from Loredon's allied neighbour; Symphonia. My father: Lysandle, prince of Loredon, lawful heir to the throne. Their first meeting was like a fairytale. They met at the King's ball which was held to find the perfect wife for Lysandle. Throughout the entire evening, they enchanted each other, one with her grace and poise, the other with his manliness. Soon after, they were wedded in Loredon where my father reigned as the King and my mother the Queen. About a year and a half later, I was born. My parents named me Emelia which meant "precious flower". I inherited my father's friendly sky-blue eyes and my mother's snow white complexion and her pearly-silver tresses. I remembered my fond childhood memories; I use to go riding with my father and flower picking with my mother. We lead a care-free and peaceful life. But this tranquility was disturbed soon after my eleventh birthday. The Aranians attacked Loredon before the sun had risen and everyone was taken by surprise. My father, being king, defended his country with his life but eventually, we were out-numbered and my father died in the enemies clutches. My mother however, protected me with all her life. An Aranian archer shot arrows continuously on my mother's once beautiful and fragile body. But she just shielded me from the arrows and I escaped the war, unharmed but with a broken heart. After the war, I was sent to live with my uncle, the King of Symphonia.
Tears streamed down my tear-stricken face. Till today, I constantly blame myself for my mother's death. I strolled slowly across the palace grounds to the garden, I often went there when I needed silence. It was lonely here, my cousins were still away in Nezanire on their holiday. The vines twined into an arch above my head. It was like a gateway to my haven. The flowers were in full bloom and the scent was soothing. But my heart was away some place else, I felt horrid and slumped against the stone bench and cried my heart out.
Suddenly from behind the rose bushes came a frail cry, "help!". I panicked, my mind whirling with crazy thoughts. My heart skipped a beat. A man who looked no older then 17 lay on the paved ground with blood splattered freely all over. He had cuts all over his manly body and a poison arrow that stuck out from his calve. The sight killed me a little. But I mastered all my courage and with all my might, pulled out the bloodied arrow. The man let out a painful and low groan then opened his half lidded eyes and whispered "my love..." he broke off abruptly and fainted. It was amazing though, for a 13 year-old girl like me to be able to carry the man all the way to the courtyard when I collapsed on the floor, drained of my energy. The man, was taken care of the palace physicians.
The next day, after a tough decision, I went over to the man's room where he lay on the bed, looking relaxed and very charming. I stayed by his side until he woke up later in the afternoon. He stretched his body and winced a little then settled on the bed. With some help, he was propped up on his bed with cushions and then he introduced himself.
It was a bright and cheery spring morning in the kingdom of Symphonia. But to me, it was a dull and mournful day.
Exactly two years ago on this very day, I had lost my parents of 11 years to the clutches of Loredon's enemy: The kingdom of Arania. The only memory I bore of them was their eternal kindness which they shone freely like the sun. My mother Lorraine: princess from Loredon's allied neighbour; Symphonia. My father: Lysandle, prince of Loredon, lawful heir to the throne. Their first meeting was like a fairytale. They met at the King's ball which was held to find the perfect wife for Lysandle. Throughout the entire evening, they enchanted each other, one with her grace and poise, the other with his manliness. Soon after, they were wedded in Loredon where my father reigned as the King and my mother the Queen. About a year and a half later, I was born. My parents named me Emelia which meant "precious flower". I inherited my father's friendly sky-blue eyes and my mother's snow white complexion and her pearly-silver tresses. I remembered my fond childhood memories; I use to go riding with my father and flower picking with my mother. We lead a care-free and peaceful life. But this tranquility was disturbed soon after my eleventh birthday. The Aranians attacked Loredon before the sun had risen and everyone was taken by surprise. My father, being king, defended his country with his life but eventually, we were out-numbered and my father died in the enemies clutches. My mother however, protected me with all her life. An Aranian archer shot arrows continuously on my mother's once beautiful and fragile body. But she just shielded me from the arrows and I escaped the war, unharmed but with a broken heart. After the war, I was sent to live with my uncle, the King of Symphonia.
Tears streamed down my tear-stricken face. Till today, I constantly blame myself for my mother's death. I strolled slowly across the palace grounds to the garden, I often went there when I needed silence. It was lonely here, my cousins were still away in Nezanire on their holiday. The vines twined into an arch above my head. It was like a gateway to my haven. The flowers were in full bloom and the scent was soothing. But my heart was away some place else, I felt horrid and slumped against the stone bench and cried my heart out.
Suddenly from behind the rose bushes came a frail cry, "help!". I panicked, my mind whirling with crazy thoughts. My heart skipped a beat. A man who looked no older then 17 lay on the paved ground with blood splattered freely all over. He had cuts all over his manly body and a poison arrow that stuck out from his calve. The sight killed me a little. But I mastered all my courage and with all my might, pulled out the bloodied arrow. The man let out a painful and low groan then opened his half lidded eyes and whispered "my love..." he broke off abruptly and fainted. It was amazing though, for a 13 year-old girl like me to be able to carry the man all the way to the courtyard when I collapsed on the floor, drained of my energy. The man, was taken care of the palace physicians.
The next day, after a tough decision, I went over to the man's room where he lay on the bed, looking relaxed and very charming. I stayed by his side until he woke up later in the afternoon. He stretched his body and winced a little then settled on the bed. With some help, he was propped up on his bed with cushions and then he introduced himself.