Prince Of Ash #29
Description
The story I am about to tell you is true—well, as true as any tale can be when it has lived for generations in the whispers of kingdoms. It begins on a night when the sky itself seemed to burn.
For as long as anyone could remember, the Kingdom of Brookshire and the Kingdom of Moon Valley had been at war. No one alive could say why it began. Some claimed it started over land. Others said it was revenge for an ancient betrayal. Most simply accepted the hatred as part of life, like winter storms or summer droughts.
But on this night, the war reached a village on the far edge of Moon Valley—a small, quiet place that had never asked to be part of history.
King Markus of Brookshire rode through the smoke and ash with his soldiers behind him. He was a strong man, broad‑shouldered and stern, but his eyes were tired. He had seen too many battles, too many broken homes, too many children left without parents. He had hoped this village would be spared. It was not.
The houses were burned to their frames. The fields were trampled. The air was thick with the bitter smell of fire and sorrow. Markus dismounted, his boots sinking into the blackened earth.
“Search for survivors,” he ordered, though he doubted there would be any.
His men spread out. The only sounds were the crackling of dying flames and the distant groan of collapsing beams. Markus walked alone toward what had once been a small cottage. Its roof had caved in, and the door hung crookedly from one hinge.
Then he heard it.
A sound so faint he almost thought he imagined it—a tiny, trembling cry.
Markus froze. The cry came again, thin and desperate.
He pushed aside a fallen beam and stepped into the ruined cottage. There, tucked beneath a scorched blanket, lay a newborn baby. Pale, tiny, covered in soot, with a shock of hair as black as midnight.
The king knelt slowly. The child’s mother lay nearby, still and silent. His father, too, had fallen in the battle outside. The baby was alone.
An enemy child.
A Moon Valley child.
Markus should have walked away. That was what war demanded. That was what his generals would expect. But when he looked at the infant—so small, so helpless—something inside him cracked.
He reached out and lifted the baby into his arms. The child’s crying softened, then stopped, as if sensing safety for the first time.
“You poor little thing,” Markus whispered. “You should not have been born into this.”
He wrapped the baby in his own royal cape, warm and heavy with the scent of home. The infant curled against him, barely bigger than a loaf of bread.
When Markus returned to his soldiers, they stared in disbelief.
“Your Majesty… that is a Moon Valley child,” one of them said carefully.
“It is a child,” Markus replied, his voice firm. “And he will not die here.”
No one dared argue.
By the time they reached Brookshire’s castle, Queen Mariam was waiting in the courtyard. She gasped when she saw the tiny bundle in her husband’s arms.
“Oh, Markus… where did you find him?”
“In the ruins,” he said softly. “He has no one.”
Mariam took the baby gently, her face melting into tenderness. “He’s so small,” she murmured. “So very small.”
“That is why I thought we might call him Simon,” Markus said. “It means ‘small one.’”
The queen smiled. “Simon,” she repeated. “Yes. It suits him.”
But not everyone in the castle welcomed the new arrival.
From behind the queen’s skirts peeked a five‑year‑old boy with bright eyes and a mop of golden hair—Prince Eric, the heir to Brookshire. He stared at the baby with a mixture of confusion and something darker.
For five years, he had been the only child of the king and queen. The only prince. The only one praised, adored, and told stories of the wicked Moon Valley people who threatened their kingdom.
And now, suddenly, he was expected to share his home… with one of them?
Eric’s small hands curled into fists.
And though Simon was too young to understand it, the first seeds of jealousy were planted that very night.
If you want, I can help you write Chapter Two, build character profiles, or expand this chapter with more detail about the war, the queen, or Eric’s jealousy.