╔∘ ★ ∘═══════════════╗ ⠀⠀the greatness of Zane chronicles chapter 1 Zanes POV 14 years of age ╚═══════════════∘ ★ ∘╝ ‼️WARNING! bad parenting a tiny bit of ketchup and talk of arena battles‼️ I sat at the long table in the castle dining hall. My father, king Kejam, sat on the end of the table in a comfortable throne like seat, next to him sat my mother, queen Jorden, and down the table on her side the princess and down the table on my fathers the princes. Or home is based all on status I, Prince Zane, sit the closest to my father since I am the heir to the throne of the web. Im proud of the role and all my my younger brothers are jealous, it can be draining at times since they seem to blame me for simply being older although I beat them in every fight. I am stronger then I look and once I have my growth spurt my mother says I will look just as strong as my father, Im also good with words and if it comes to insults I can always find a way to bite back with my tongue. My sisters are kinder then my brothers especially Rosemary, she is the second oldest only younger then my twin sister Alison at 12. She wants to learn the art of healing and I have always supported it, its a good skill for a girl to have and I always believed she had some hidden magic for healing that hasn’t quite shown itself. Here in the web a few people are blessed with magic and healing magic is highly needed at this time since my father seems to be preparing for war. I fear no one except my father who is incredibly hard on me and- “ZANE!” my father barked. I jumped and my head turned quickly towards him. “Y-ea father?” I replied, my voice shook more then it should have and for that my father smacked me. “Dont show fear boy!” he said glaring at me. I nodded. “Yea sir, Im sorry sir!” I replied trying to straighten up my thick accent filling the room. My father shook his head disappointedly. “Zane you aren’t learning fast enough, if your going to be king one day you need to toughen up!” he said sternly. I nodded. “Yea sir I’ll be tryin’!” I replied. My father shook his head again. “No Zane trying isn’t enough for you!” he said practically yelling. “Your going into the arena tomorrow afternoon, your going to fight and your going to win! or I’ll find myself another heir!” he said, his voice steadily rising. I felt my heart stop for a second, many times grown men didn’t survive that arena! how did my father expect me to do that?!? I looked up at him hoping he was finding some dry sense of humor but he had a completely straight face and anger blazing behind his eyes. I felt my eyes burning and repeated the same words in my head over and over again, ‘dont cry, dont cry, dont cry,’ my father glared at me. “Get up to your room before you humiliate me!” he commanded and I quickly left the table running to my room and slamming the door. Still I refused to let myself cry, instead I slammed my fist into the hard stone wall so hard it bleed and broke a few vases before falling exhausted into my bed and covering my face with my hands. what was I going to do tomorrow?
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