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The streets of the Twelfth Century German village were riddled with poverty, disease and discontent. The Holy Roman Empire and the German empire were once again at odds, leaving Jaeger Hunts and his family to struggle; scrape and steal in order to survive. The emperors ruled their fiefdoms and villages as lords of the manor while the peasants were left to their own devices, caught in the cross hairs of the mighty.
Jaeger wanted a way out, wealth, power. Strong as an ox and quick with a sword, Jaeger was a match for even the strongest Lord or Knight, but as a peasant, he would never get the opportunity to prove himself. His village was ruled by Lord Malcolm the Beast with his son by his side, Wren the Dreamer. Jaeger had seen Lord Wren on numerous occasions and envied and hated the young man for his privileged life and good looks. Lord Wren, while the same height as Jaeger, the similarities ended there. The man sported an olive complexion, dark hair and flawless skin. Jaeger surmised his ancestry rooted outside of Germania. Pampered, educated, wealthy- everything Jaeger desired, but was out of his reach.
The street was desolate; the darkness eerie in a starless sky, and the only sound was the scurrying of rats scouring for food. Jaeger paused on his journey. The sound so faint, he almost missed it. He waited and listened again. The sound came from the alley way across the dirt path. Stepping lightly, Jaeger journeyed to the sound and found a man. The robed man leaned against the dank wall rubbing his hands together infusing warmth into his extremities.
“Ah, young man, how fortuitous that I find as you make your journey home.”
Jaeger looked at the man with disdain, his impeccable speech could only mean one thing. The man was of wealth, yet he lounged in a dirty alleyway.
“Good sir, what can I do for you on this night?” asked Jaeger cautiously.
“I am in search of men. Men of sound bodies who are dissatisfied with the state of the empire and who would follow a new king. A king who would look favorably on those who serve him. Warriors of the highest caliber. I shall be your new king. But, I am in need of assistance, as I cannot take the thrown by myself. My name is Moriel and I am a wizard, and prepared to give you riches beyond your belief.”
Jaeger scratched the side of his face, his beard rough and in need of a trim. The wizard made grand promises, but with greatness always came a price.
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2015 ©Evelise Archer All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No portion of this work may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.