Prince Mikhail spurred the black mare faster. He had to make it to the castle and find out what the hell was going on. It was not in his nature to abandon his own quests, and in all truth if he was not honour bound, he would be riding in the opposite direction.
The journey to Kryta was long and tiring, and as he reached the outskirts of the kingdom, darkness was already upon him. He brought the horse to a trot. Although it was night the village was alive and bustling.
Many of the inhabitants were making their way the ale house. He didn't like villages, hated cities even more. Solitude was his friend, and the sooner he made it to the king's side, the sooner he could leave this place. He guided his horse to the stables and flipped a gold coin at the stable boy. His mouth agape, he watched as the Prince patted the horse faithfully.
"This horse is now yours little one." Prince Mikhail said, handing the reigns to the still surprised boy. Mikhail arched an eyebrow at the young lad. Yet he remained silent.
Sighing heavily he unpacked the saddle bags, and transferred them into his own bag.
"You...you are a seraphim." He gasped, pulling off his hat he bowed down before Mikhail. Mikhail hastily pulled the boy up, he really didn't want any attention drawn to him. Seraphim were the most powerful of angels, and regarded to be higher than kings. At the moment however, he would rather just get to the castle and be on his way.
"Master you should not touch me, I am filthy." The boy trembled bowing again. Mikhail swore softly under his breath. This boy was going to cause him too much trouble.
"What is your name?" He said harshly.
"Peter m'lord"
"Peter I am in need of an attendant, do you have a family?" Peter's eyes bulged slightly, an angel of the highest ranking was speaking to him, asking him to be his attendant.
"I have none m'lord." Mikhail smiled, then this boy would have to come with him.
"My name is Mikhail." Fear swamped the wonder in the boys eyes, the shivers of excitement soon turned into shivers of fear. Mikhail flinched slightly as the boy started reciting Latin prayers, it was not that they affected him in anyway, it just saddened him that his name caused such fear.
"Devil child." Peter cried, he made to run to the stable doors, but Mikhail closed them with just a simple thought.
"I do not wish to hurt you Peter, I need you to never speak of my appearance here." Peter clawed at the door, and almost died of fright as he felt the hand on his shoulder. Beneath the blazing lamp, he saw the legendary three scratches on Mikhail's right cheek, the darkness of his right eye, compared to the celestial paleness of his left.
Long blond hair fell about his face, his large wings fluttered as he pushed the boy behind him. The left wing was a blinding white, whilst the right was a disturbing black.
"Peter! Peter! Where is that good for nothing lad!? When I find him, he isn't getting away with just twenty thrashings." Peter whimpered as the stable owner entered the stable. A gentle breeze ruffled his fair hair, and all he could see was the stable owner screaming his name. the village passed beneath him and he clung onto Mikhail in fright. He heard the heavy beating of the sixteen feet wings. The castle loomed ahead, and Peter knew his adventures were just beginning.
...
King Jericho motioned for Mikhail to come closer. Dressed in the red royal robes of Soledad. The Prince though of mixed and questionable heritage was Jericho's greatest ally, and anyone who caused trouble for the royal outcast did not last long in his kingdom.
Mikhail was a beautiful man, if not for the slashing brows, and square jaw he would have passed of for a female. He looked very much like his mother. The long hair silky and alluring aura.
"I am dying." Jericho finally said. Mikhail gave a small nod. Jericho saw the sadness in the lightness of his left eye, whereas his right eye showed none. It was a disturbing trait he had.
"And if an heir is not found, then my nephew will gain control of Albion." Mikhail grasped the hilt of his sword and growled. Jibril was a tyrant of a man, charmer to both men and women, he could destroy Albion in a day. It did not help that his father was an angel, or that they were related as cousins.
"Anything my liege."
