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The Resilient King

Book By: TheRebel
Fantasy




Aramir was prince of Aberilith. He had everything he wanted and wished for, and life was prosperous. But he was accused. Accused of a terrible crime, and was eventually left to wander the forests in exile. He made valuable allies along the way, and life seemed to be taking a turn for the better. But when Aberilith goes into war, Aramir has to decide. Should he reject the people who first rejected him? Or will he remain forever loyal to his kingdom and fight for them?


Submitted:Mar 24, 2013    Reads: 6    Comments: 1    Likes: 0   


Characters

Aramir Ryder | Male |

Aramir was born on March 25th, and has just turned twenty-one years old. He was born in the kingdom of Aberilith, a small kingdom well protected at the base of tall mountains. Aramir is, or at least was, prince of the kingdom, and was also Captain of the Aberilith Army. He had been Captain ever since he was eighteen, and is a very skilled swordsman and archer. Aramir stands at the rather intimidating height of six feet and one inch. Aramir has a noble, chiseled face that just looks like it belongs to royalty. He has a very muscular build from all his training and battles, yet he is very quick and agile. His hair is a dark chocolaty brown, nearly falling to his shoulders, and his eyes are a beautiful pale blue, as if they are pools of fresh spring water. He also has a scruffy type of stubble on his well-defined face. As I have said before, Aramir is adept with the sword and bow and arrow, a very fierce warrior indeed. However, on the downside, he isn't the greatest swimmer, and though he can ride a horse, he isn't very skilled fighting while on one. Onto his personality, Aramir is surprisingly a very gentle and calm person. He often doesn't boast and is quite humble. However, he has a short temper, and is rather quick to anger. He also gets jealous quite easily and is one to seek revenge. But let's not focus on those things, shall we? As I said, he's for the most part, a very laid-back and affectionate person, who is extremely loyal to his friends and family, even though they rejected him. But that hasn't happened so I can so more. Anyway, overall, Aramir is a very hardworking and devoted friend; he is courageous and reserved, but when he does have something to say it means a lot.

Lebryn Ryder | Male |

Lebryn was born on June 13th, and is at the ripe age of twenty-three. He is the older brother of Aramir, and was born in the kingdom of Aberilith. Lebryn is Prince of Aberilith and Captain of the Aberilith Cavalry, and he been since he was twenty years old. Lebryn is of average height, standing at six feet even. He has a lean and muscular body build, like most men of his day. His face has a small, scruffy beard like his brother, and it also has shark edges and high cheekbones. His nose is long and slender, and his eyebrows are quite thin. His hair is long, though shorter then Aramir's, and it is a warm honey brown color, though it grows darker at the roots. His eyes are a stormy blue color, like a brewing thunderstorm, alight with thunder and lightning. He is one of the best greatsword wielders in the whole kingdom, maybe even the whole continent. He is also very gifted when it comes to horseback duels and war strategies, but he is an inferior archer. Lebryn, unlike his brother, is very sociable and loves to interact with other people. While Aramir prefers to keep to himself, Lebryn needs to share his feelings, and he is very outspoken. He is incredibly loyal to his kingdom and people, but he is so loyal, sometimes his devotion blinds him, and causes him to do things that would be considered radical. He loves his brother, Aramir, and the two men have had a good relationship most of their lives. Lebryn is very skeptical and it's hard for him to trust people he doesn't know. He believes in justice, and is willing to fight for it. He feels the need to prove himself to Aberilith, and always tries his best, whether it is in battle or practice.

Fëanor Aranel | Male |

Fëanor, an Elf, was born on February 4th, and is twenty years of age. He was born in the Elven city of Aliral, near the Elvish country Uminia. He is the son of a silversmith, and his father crafts some of the finest Elven armor in all or Uminia. He is an archer in the small Aliral army, though they hardly do any fighting since Aliral is a very calm, peaceful place. Fëanor moved to Aberilith when he was eighteen, which was quite uncommon; Elves often did not tangle with men, but he loved the culture and the people, so he preferred to be with him. And he was sick of his small home. He loved it of course, but he wanted something new and fresh. He is now enrolled as a soldier for the Aberilith army. He is of average height, though on the shorter side, and stands at only five feet and eleven inches. His body is lean and wiry, and you wouldn't think him very strong at first glance. His skin is a pale white, and he has high cheekbones. Being an elf, he detests facial hair of any sort and refrains from growing any. He has golden blonde hair, as bright as the sun. It is quite long, going a bit past his shoulders. The sides are usually pulled back behind his head, giving him a regal appearance. His eyes are a deep brown, almost looking black. He is an incredible archer and is also very sneaky and quiet, so he makes for a valuable spy. He has nearly perfect, pin-point aim, and many admire him for this. He is not so skilled with hand-to-hand combat, but he can manage himself all right. Fëanor is an astoundingly intelligent Elf, and knows the continent of Lothadric well, allowing him to know a safe rout e or the best place to attack an enemy. He can sometimes be unreliable. He often doesn't do it on purpose, but it is hard to trust him with an important mission, which is why he is not yet Captain of the archers. That has made him rather bitter, but he has learned to hide that feeling and just keep working hard. He is also very charming, and is a great ambassador and speaker. He has a ton of charisma and almost a spiritual bon with nature. He has incredible foresight and insight, and he finds it easy to sense other's feelings.

Vaemyr Ryder | Male |

Vaemyr has the birthday of October 8th, and is forty-nine years of age. He is the father of Lebryn and Aramir, and also the High King of Aberilith. He was born in Seville, a kingdom placed on the coast of the ocean. Seville was invaded by a kingdom known as Erelid. Vaemyr was able to make it out alive, though he lost his mother and father in the process. He wandered the forests, until he was found by some rangers of Aberilith who patrolled the forest and made sure the kingdom was safe. They took Vaemyr to the King, named Rigwyn Elros. Rigwyn had pity on the boy once he learned of his story, and made him a personal servant, also providing housing and food for him. As he grew, Vaemyr become a very mighty and skilled ranger, and his senses were very sharp. He was able to warn the kingdom of intruders when they were miles away. He also fought in many battles, and was loved by many. When Rigwyn became sick and was on his deathbed, the people asked him who would be crowned King, as he had no sons or daughters. And the last word he muttered before he passed was "Vaemyr." And so it was, and Vaemyr has been ruling ever since he was twenty-five. As for appearance, he has long dirty blonde hair, and his eyes are a bluish-green color. His face is cleanly shaven, though when he was younger he often sported a beard. He is older, though he is still very strong and quick. He is known for duel-wielding war axes, and he is extremely skilled with it. Vaemyr is concerned only with the better health of his people. He wants nothing more than for them to be safe and protected, and to prosper. However, he has his corruptions as anyone else would. He, very much like his son, is so devoted to the kingdom he can let it overcome him to a radical point, where any suggestions opposite of what he's commanded become irrelevant to him, and makes him very ignorant. But he's very loving and gentle, and is very brave. He's not afraid to die, having the assurance that he's lived a fair life. He's willing to sacrifice himself for his people, and is very loyal and wise.

Kalilian Elendil | Female |

Kalilian was born on December 12th, and is twenty years of age. She was born in the kingdom of Erelid, as an orphan. She hated her caretaker, a cruel and abusive old woman. So one night she snuck out of her home and smuggled herself onboard a carriage which was shipping weapons to Aberilith. She had no idea where she was going, but when she was discovered she was taken to King Vaemyr. Vaemyr had compassion on the six year-old girl, as he shared a somewhat similar experience with her. He made her one of the house servants, and she has been doing job ever since, now fourteen years after. She adores Aramir; she had ever since she had first laid on him, when he had only been seven years old. Of course, she always kept these feelings hidden, and only glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. Kalilian is a beautiful woman, and is at the small height of five feet and eight inches. She has a very soft face, with soft pale skin and round cheeks. Her eyebrows are thin and her nose his slender, her eyes like that of a doe. Her hair is thick and cascades down in loose waves and curls to around her mid-back. It is a dark brown, almost black, shade, with a few natural honey brown highlights. Her eyes are a strange shade of blue; they are not the icy, pale blue you'd expect. Rather, they are a dark blue, a color that mimics the depths of the ocean. Kalilian is a very sweet, shy girl, but she has always had craving for adventure. She falls in love easily, and therefore gets her heart broken easily. She's sometimes afraid to speak, but when it comes to the ones she loves, she's willing to stand up for them.

Mithrandir the Blue | Male |

Mithrandir was born on November 26th, and is fifty years of age. He is a wizard, and the right-hand assistant of King Vaemyr, and has been so for around twenty years now. For someone who isn't that elderly, Mithrandir sports very aged features. His face has quite visible wrinkles under his eyes and on his cheeks. His hair is silver and gray, and reaches his shoulders. His eyes are gray, but they are glossed over from age. He is always wearing his royal blue cloak and hat, and his white staff is carved from elm tree wood. Mithrandir is a very powerful and wise man. He can persuade people to do crazy things. A smooth-talker, if you will. He has a powerful voice, and his words are held at a high standard for most people. He is a strong wizard, and knows much more spellcraft than many of the wizards in that area. He has always loved Lebryn, but for whatever strange reason, he has never been quite so fond of Aramir… …

Chapter One

It's Good to Be King... ...Most of the Time

It was bright, spring morning in the middle of April. The sun was radiating pleasantly from its place in the sky, and it rays cast down to seemingly every corner of Lothadric. It shed a mottled pattern on the forest floor due to the leaves on the trees, which partially blocked its rays from fully bathing the ground in sunlight. This forest, Felagund Forest to be precise, was seemingly quiet, as it often was. The only noise was the rustling of the leaves in the gentle, warm breeze, or the chirps of birds, or the chattering of squirrels.

There came the sudden sound of light feet treading over the earth, and a majestic elk appeared out of the brush and into a small clearing. Its muzzle was seemingly glued to the ground as it forged for grass and roots. It was being watched, but it was so absorbed by its meal that wasn't suspecting anything. An arrow suddenly shot out from the bushes, piercing the beast straight in the chest. The elk heaved a heavy breath, falling with a loud thud onto its side. Its legs went into spastic fits before the elk's entire body went limp, and the light of life escaped its large eyes.

The bushes parted and two men strode into the clearing. One of these men had dark brown hair, the other had light brown hair. But they had similar faces, and were presumably related in some way. Both wore leather armor and cloaks were draped around their shoulders. The armor was lightweight, allowing them to move quickly, and the cloaks allowed them to blend in better with their surroundings. The darker-haired man stooped down next to the huge animal, his pale blue eyes narrowing as he examined the elk. He needed to sure it was dead, and once he had checked it closely, he seemed satisfied enough. His fist curled around the arrow which had been plunged into the elk's chest, and yanked it out. He used his cloak to wipe of the blood off, not caring if it left a stain, and placed it back with his stash of arrows.

"Not a bad catch, Aramir. It should make for a good breakfast," the lighter haired man said, looking down at the elk and licking his lips, a grin appearing on his face as he looked over at Aramir. Together, the two of them hoisted the elk up, resting the huge creature on their shoulders and beginning to make their way back through the trees.

"Indeed, Lebryn. But you know the custom with hunting. Whoever gets the kill is served first," Aramir replied, smiling as well as they trudged through the underbrush.

Lebryn rolled his eyes and cast a sidelong glance at his brother, giving him a playful shove. Aramir hadn't expected it, and he nearly fell sideways. Lebryn laughed, his eyes sparked with amusement. "You don't think don't already know that, little brother? You think I'm new to the family or something?" he said playfully, laughing once more.

Aramir rolled his eyes as well, exaggerating the action to make fun of Lebryn. "Of course, of course. But you forget things so easily, I thought I might remind you," he returned, his eyes sparkling in delight as well.

The two of them laughed, finally making their way out of the trees. the beautiful city Primeros came into view. It's buildings were made out of fine white marble, which glittered in the sunlight. The wall which surrounded it was also made of white stone and marble, and its gates were strong and fortified. Primeros was the capital of Aberilith, and is where the High King Vaemyr lives. Aramir and Lebryn are his two sons, the Princes of Aberilith.

The guards that were posted at the white gates hurriedly opened the large doors for them to enter, bowing slightly in respect of the men. Aramir and Lebryn both nodded to the guards politely and continued up the main cobblestone street which led to the Royal White Castle. People who caught sight of them would greet them and bow. This was no act these people were putting on. And it was not something they felt inclined to do since the men were princes. They did it because they truly admired them, and thought them to be worthy princes. Aramir was honored for his amazing hand-to-hand skills, while Lebryn was praised for his horseback combat skills. Although Lebryn was technically heir to the throne as he was the elder of the two, many people wanted Aramir to be the next High King of Aberilith. They admired his reserved, calm, composed nature, but the crowning of a new king would be many years from now. King Vaemyr was still in good health and was relatively young. That being said, the princes hardly paid any attention to this gossip.

Once Aramir and Lebryn reached the castle, the white stone doors were flung open for them to enter. The doors opened to a great long hallway made of white marble. Statures lined each side of the hall, depicting great kings and warriors of the past. A red velvet rug led down the way, leading to the very throne of the King. Vaemyr, however, currently wasn't there. Perhaps he was in his study or overlooking the city on his balcony, something he often enjoyed doing in the morning. The men continued to carry their kill through a much smaller hallway on the right and into what appeared to be the kitchen and royal dining hall. The princes rested the elk down in the kitchen, where chefs hurried over to attend to it. The boys then headed into the ding room. Lebryn served Aramir and himself a tankard of ale, and the together they rested their sore shoulders and chatted idly.

Within minutes, Kalilian, the servant girl, rushed into the dining hall. Her blue eyes fell on the two men, and a smile of relief crept onto her lips. She strode over to them, trying to be as graceful as she possibly could. "Morning, my lords. I've been looking all over the palace for you," she said, smiling mostly at Aramir. Lebryn couldn't help but snicker at the obvious infatuation Kalilian had with Aramir. Aramir shot him a warning glance, and returned his gaze expectantly at the shy woman.

"I-I uh, actually made breakfast for you two. But I see now that's it already taken care of, so I gave it to Vaemyr and Mithrandir," she said, biting her lip and smiling nervously.

"Thank you, Kalilian. I'm sure it would've been very good," Aramir said with a nod of gratitude, though it was almost as if he said it through gritted teeth. Even though she often hid it, Aramir always knew Kalilian had liked him, and he hated it since Lebryn and his other friends always gave him trouble about it. Lebryn noticed his brother's frustration, and nearly choked on his ale from laughter.

Kalilian cast a strange glance at Lebryn as he nearly choked, but quickly turned back to Aramir. "Trust me, it would have been. It was fit for any king, as your father said," she said, giggling just a bit before a long silence followed. It became so awkward it was too much for poor Kalilian to bear. She quickly cleared her throat to disrupt the silence and smiled once more.

"Well...that'll be all I suppose. Enjoy your meal, Aramir. If you need anything, I'll be waiting for your command," she said, taking a small curtsey before excusing herself and exiting the dining hall. As soon as her footsteps has faded, Lebryn burst out laughing, his deep voice echoing off of the walls. Aramir rolled his eyes and gave him a shove in the shoulder.

"Keep quiet, dumbass. It's not my fault she follows me around like a dog," he growled under his breath at his elder brother, who was still laughing. Aramir couldn't help but go a light shade of pink from embarrassment, which only made Lebryn laugh eve more.

"It doesn't have to be your fault. It's funny either way," Lebryn chuckled. "I'll be waiting for your command, oh Aramir, my love," he said between laughs, mocking the poor and innocent servant girl. He buried his face in his hands, his laughter dying down within a minute or so. The food was soon brought to them. It was just two plates of roasted elk meat, with some fruit on the side. As custom, Aramir chose which dish he wanted, and he chose the plate with the better cooked meat and riper fruit. The two ate together, thankfully for Aramir in silence.

Once the meal was finished, Aramir quickly headed up into the room, hoping he wouldn't meet Kalilian again along the way. Once a day was too much for him as it was, he didn't need to see her anymore and risk further embarrassment. He tread lightly up the marble staircase, going down a long and elegant hallway before turning into the last door on the left. His room was huge, with a high ceiling and a hanging chandelier. He had a curtained four-poster bed and a huge balcony that overlooked the city. He changed out if his armor, changing into some of his fine clothes and carefully stowing his armor and weapons away in the chest under his bed.

The day went by lazily. There was a training session in the barracks that he had to attend around noon. Aramir was Captain of the Aberilith Army, so it was one of his many responsibilities to attend these training sessions. Lebryn also attended, as he was Captain of the Aberilith Cavalry. The session lasted for about two hours, in which Lebryn and some of the other Captains teased him about Kalilian. Except Fëanor the Elf, one of the most skilled archers in all of Lothadric. "Just ignore them. They're just being immature," he would mutter to Aramir. The Elf could see the frustration in Aramir's eyes, and he felt the need to comfort his good friend and keep him from doing anything he might later regret.

Night fall was upon the city quicker then Aramir had imagined. He must have lost track of time. He quickly bathed himself after dinner, and retired to bed quite early. He would often stay in the dining hall with Lebryn and some of the others, but he needed to be alone right now. And he especially didn't want to go down there with them teasing him. He lay awake in bed, staring at the blue velvet curtains that surrounded him dully. He quickly shook himself, and heaved a sigh. Why was he being so fussy about this? He was Prince of probably the most powerful kingdom in Lothadric, and he had everything he could ask for. He didn't need to worry about some servant girl bothering him. That should be irrelevant to him! "Maybe tomorrow won't be so bad," he thought to himself, finally closing his eyes and drifting off into sleep. What he didn't know was that tomorrow would be the worst day of his life.





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