The Day the Last Kingdom fell…
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The Prince stood in front of the large portrait. Towering over him was the picture of Vandernia’s savior and hero – a young man with jet black hair that stops before his shoulders. The portrait displayed the back view of this hero, putting his face out of sight but his silhouette was no less valiant than any other statues of the many Gods that Vandernia’s people believed in. The Prince was near the bottom right of the lofty portrait, at the calves of the young man. He had one of his palms placed gently on the glass sheet that protects the canvas beyond and his face displayed a tender smile.
- “I’ll be back…” Prince Somnus whispered.
The corking of rifles resonated across the empty chamber in which the portrait sat in the center. Despite the interruption, Prince Somnus did not avert his focus from the back of Vandernia’s hero. In the next moment, a shower of rounds was shot towards the prince. Smoke, built up from the heat, permeated the chamber, leaving the visibility level at its lowest; neither the prince nor his corpse was visible from where the attackers stood. The smog started to dissipate after a short while, and the attackers waited in anticipation of Somnus’ body on the ground, but there was none…
- Through the thin layer of smoke that remained, they saw Somnus standing where he was before the attack. That was not all that surprised them, the rounds that left their barrels did not make it to Somnus – instead, they were hovering in the air as if stopped by an invisible barrier – one that engulfed Prince Somnus and the portait hanging from the ceiling of the chamber.
