This is a little story a wrote about my RP character and his rise to power. Hope you enjoy!

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Power.

It's something I've always had around me but never mine.

Until now.

Until it was thrust upon me.

They say people are born into it, earn it or conquer it. I gained power though none of them, the fifth son of Serean Vanaria, I was never meant for power, throughout my life I've looked for a meaning, a path, I guess that's why I started travelling, that's how I ended up in Dumandask, and the Arthaeolloer, never finding somewhere that felt like home.

But fate, life, they have funny ways of playing with you.

One by one they fell, Farrean was first, my fathers favourite.

Then Gaverean, Aryren and Hollder.

One by one they died.

Fighting holy wars in far of lands and the petty disputes of nobles.

Then after Hollder, it was me, heir to the Vale, to be the third most powerful man in Ialen, in Andarbrook, in Anoroth maybe.

But I did not worry, I was younger, more adventurous....more stupid.

Serean wasn't going to die any time soon, no matter how many people wished otherwise...

I returned home, back to Vanaris, back to a life of Lords, Ladies and dignitary's.

I saw some old faces, and some new ones, people who'd fled the Grey Year, after what they'd been through I shouldn't complain.

But then it happened, as it always does, life throws something at you...

That something had to be assassins.

And in the blink of an eye he was gone, my father dead, men crowding round me, screaming, "Protect him, protect the Arch Duke, he must not fall!"

Arch Duke me?

An 18 year old Arch Duke, Lord of the Vale, thats not me?

I'm more wenches and ale.

Throw in the occasional petty power struggle and evil magister and we're where we are now.

Power huh?

It has a funny way of changing you plans.

Thank you for reading and if you liked it please diamond, favourite and subscribe!