The Ocean Hearth (A "Hymns of Evermorn" Story) by Lionelson NY

Chapter Prologue



“But father, I heard the sailors say there are people living on this part of the continent.” Said a young boy with a crown around his head, laden with soft, brown hair. He was walking along the western coasts of the Realm of Evermorn alongside his father and older brother. Their boots were spoiled with sand. And the bay on which they strolled upon stretched far with a luscious green tree line to its east; a boundary to the unexplored jungle beyond. Gentle waves crashed on the shores as seagulls hovered over the sea, catching the fishes.

“Oh shut your mouth, Velron! This place is spectacular!” a boy in his adolescence replied. He admired the blue sky, a sight that was rarely seen back in Rodenheim, their home kingdom. Not to mention, the heat from the sun rejuvenates their skin.

“You shut your mouth, Varthas! I was talking to father!”

“Now, now, you two” their father, also wearing a golden crown, crouched down to speak to the two boys. He had deep blue eyes, just like his two sons. Placing his hands on both of their heads, he told them “Both of you are brothers. You shouldn’t be fighting on this foreign land. For all we know, bickering amongst family might be worthy of a curse in this part of the world.”

“Sorry, father” both of them replied together.

Suddenly, a voice called out from afar. It was one of the sailors, waving his hand as he called them.

“King Thremendor! You might want to have a look at this!”

Startled, the king raced towards him to see what it was while his two princes followed close behind. Reaching the sailor, Thremendor was pointed towards a peculiar stone bulging from the sand. He quickly grabbed a shovel nearby and began digging it out. Soil piled up to the side as he unearthed the stone. When it was finally excavated, he brushed the sand off of it with his old, dusty glove.

To his awe, it was a magnificent blue stone unlike any other. It dazzled beneath the sunlight as if stars were embedded inside sapphire. Its reflection resembled a halo of rainbows that allured the king as though he held his first son for the first time. Thremendor caressed the fine stone and felt an immense feeling of sureness.

“This is a sign from the All-father Sirium” the king said with a smile on his face and a galloping heart. The sailor was also glad to see the creases on his king’s bearded cheeks.

But while they were praising their god, a few dark-skinned men appeared out of the forests. Unlike Thremendor and his men who were wearing fine black wool that covered their whole body, these men wore nothing but loin cloths and decorated their skin with scars, ink and chalk. They had piercings all over their faces. Some on their ears, some on their nose, and some on their lips. While one man’s piercing was wooden, another was made of bones. But out of all the strange men, only one of them had a red band around his head with a few long feathers sticking out. This man stood in front of them, displaying intricate lines that were inked to his muscular chest.

Thremendor saw them approaching.

“So these are the natives?” he whispered to his sailor.

“It appears so.”

“I’ll take care of it. Bring my princes back to the ship. And order our men to attack until they have proven themselves hostile”

“Very well, your highness. Come now, boys!” his friend escorted the two princes away.

After his sons were far enough from him, the king confidently marched towards the savage natives and bowed towards them. But these men did not bow in return, for it was a strange custom to them.

“A thousand blessings to all of you.” he greeted them with a handsome smile. But the indigenous men were indifferent. Confused, Thremendor asked “Do you speak the common tongue?”

“Only little” Replied the one with the feathered band with an odd accent. Almost harsh in tone. A stern look was given from his blue eyes that stood out from his dark brown skin. “I am King Gart of Nazari.”

“That’s wonderful! I am also a King. My name is Thremendor Allistair from Rodenheim, a kingdom far beyond in the Realm of the Blade.” Thremendor displayed himself as courteous as possible, but Gart’s eyes were still filled with suspicion.

“Worry not, Nazarian. We come with nothing but tidings of good will. For both of us are kings, so shall I treat you as one” Thremendor took off his dirty gloves and offered his hand.

Fancy words overwhelmed Gart’s limited vocabulary. But seeing that the pale skinned King had a fleet of a hundred ships on the sea, he knows that Thremendor was a man of little compromise. So hesitantly, he braced the Rodenian King’s arms, acknowledging his ranks.

But little did King Gart knew that in a few short years, Thremendor would lead an attack on his tribe and steal his fertile home. The Nazarians were pushed to the desert wasteland in the Ashes. Then it took the king only another decade to finish building a new city on that newly conquered land. A city that he named Eleazar!


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