Project Athena: Dawn of War Season 1

The Unlikely Princess

Lyca

I remember the day that changed my life forever. The bright morning sun filled my room with its grace through the large glass arched window.

I got up from my bed and yawned. It seemed like a normal day to me. I would usually go brushing my hair first, but a palace servant suddenly called from behind the large wooden door.

“Your Highness, Her Royal Majesty, the King asks for your presence,” his voice sounded urgent, “he awaits you in the throne room.”

“Just a minute,” I said.

“Of course, your Highness,” the servant replied.

I gazed into the direction of the enormous mirror and walked towards it. Beside it was a purple dress embroidered with intricate gold linings. An assortment of beautiful and rare small gemstones lined the hem of the expensive gown. I was used to wearing luxurious dresses everyday, but this one looked looked nothing like those dresses. This one conjures an aura of superiority and wealth that made those other dresses look like they were made for peasants.

I recalled what it was for. I forgot that we had visitors coming this day. They were to discuss the matters regarding the alliance of the werewolf clans. I heard rumors about one of the clan leaders conspiring against the crown, though the servants seemed to lower their whenever they saw me listening to them. My father must have ordered for it to be kept secret, reinforcing the idea that it was true.

I took out an amulet from my drawer. It was a moonstone, a jewel most revered by werewolves and vampires alike, along with the bloodstone.

I put on the dress and it fit perfectly, as if it was made specifically for me, which it was.

I went to find my father. The throne room would fit hundreds of people in it. Pillars of marble over twenty feet tall held the massive ceiling containing numerous paintings depicting the history of the kingdom. At the center of the ceiling lie the four great wolves. They were said to be the ancestors of the first werewolves that walked the earth.

Before me stood a colossal throne made of rowan wood with a large moonstone lying on top of it. Above it light entered the room through a large hole that resembled a crescent moon.

The throne was empty.

“You woke up late again,” a voice said behind me. I would never forget that voice. It was that of my father.

“No I wasn’t, I was awake the whole time. Peter forgot to call me on time.” I lied.

“Well it doesn’t matter. I want you to be on your best behaviour today. Because today you will meet your future mate. We will discuss it after the other matter we need to attend to.”

“Is it about the traitor?” I asked him directly. There’s no need to hide that I knew, he would find out that I did anyway.

His eyes widened for a moment, but then returned to his normal serious expression, “I suppose there is no longer a reason to hide it. One of the clan leaders is plotting something, but I am certain that it is nothing to be worried of. Our clan has the ability to smell through deception. It will not take long to resolve this matter.”

Our ability to see through lies is through, as I was doing it this exact moment. Although my father, being the king of the werewolves, had the ability to cloak his scent, I could still feel that he was lying. The matter about the traitor was indeed serious.

“Off you go now. Rosalinda is waiting for you to go to class." He waved me off.

I bowed and left

I entered the room. It was open chamber that could fit several cars. Outside was the palace garden blooming with exotic flowers filling the air with their pleasant smell.

I was enjoying the fragrance of the morning breeze of springtime when the figure in front of me made my heart jump out.

“You’re late,” she said. It was my mentor, Rosalinda.

“I was—”

“Save your excuses. Sit down.” She said in a sharp voice.

I didn’t particularly disliked Rosalinda, it was just that being the heir to the kingdom of Amsvart put a lot of pressure on me, and she just happened to be the one assigned to put all this pressure on me by teaching me matters of the kingdom that would make my brain explode every time.

I wasn’t able to eat breakfast this morning, so a servant placed a plate of biscuits and a cup of tea on my table. I was sick of eating the same biscuits every Monday, but my parents insist that I eat them since it was our tradition. Like how did eating a wretched biscuit became a werewolf tradition? I guessed I’ll never know.

She showed me a tableau of the kingdom’s annual expenses and put half a dozen books on my table beside my food. They were of different subjects including geography of the kingdom—the kingdom has a lot of unique places worth mentioning and among them was the great mountain that our palace stood upon—and its history rich in culture.

What? You think being a princess is all about walking in the Royal Garden picking flowers, drinking expensive tea, and singing to cute little animals who gather around me and start doing a dance showdown? Guess again.

She lectured me about those things with such expertise of the respective subjects, but I paid no mind for my mind wandered far into the distance, to the west beyond the borders of the kingdom, to the land of the dead wolves. Imagine the wonders of the ruins that lied beneath the ghostly forest.

I had always dreamed of venturing into that forest and conquering the infamous dungeons of Wyrgalonde. Imagine being able to explore the legendary lost city and defeating the ancient wolf demon. Instead I was stuck here learning about things I already knew.

Aunt Rosa must had seen my gaze as she talked about the history of Wyrgalonde, “The Wyrgalondians were known for their ancient magic that set the primitve werewolves free from their Vampiric oppressors. Their magic easily overcome the pathetic powers of the vampire lords of old, and with it they built Wyrgalonde, the lost city of the wolves.”

She walked closer towards me, “Such power gave them the ability to conquer realms, but it also led them to their demise.”

“The demon wolf?”

“Indeed,” she showed a little smile on her face, but it disappeared as fast as it appeared, “The Wolf of Wyrgalonde, although unnamed, invoked fear to every wolf with its uncontrollable powers that brought forth the destruction of Wyrgalonde and his creators.”

She saw me looking longingly at the woods, “Many brave men had tried to best the creature but failed miserably. No one got out alive, only corpses of burnt flesh and broken bones. That is, if you’re fortunate enough to not get eaten. His belly is said to be a door to the abyss, where there is no escape.”

I knew she said that specifically to prevent me from doing what I was thinking. She already knew me like a book she read a thousand times.

“No men? That’s good because I’m a girl,” I replied.

She sighed and massaged her forehead, “I meant men as people, not specifically referring to the gender. A lot of she-wolves had tried to defeat the Wolf, but achieved the same fate as the male ones. The Wolf of Wyrgalonde cares no for measly things such as gender. He devours everything he sets his flaming eyes upon. You will never set foot on that accursed land, understood?”

I frowned, but I would never give up about that dream. I nodded just so she would stop giving me her unsettling stare.

Again she sighed after looking at her pocket watch, “It appears that our little talk has consumed most of our morning study time. You need to go see the King now.”

I bowed and took my leave.