A.G.Munroe

King of Darkness, Queen of Light

Chapter 1

I looked down the paths. One to my left one to my right.

I had no idea which way to go. Which way would lead me home.

I searched my mind for an answer, nothing came. I looked down the paths. One was covered in footsteps the other had just one set.

More people had gone left then right.

I made my decision. I turned down the left path.

Something in my mind tried to tell me to stop. But I had already made my decision. And I turned down the path of many footsteps.

Chapter 2

After walking for what seemed like miles I came across a village.

It was small, but otherwise normal.

But as I walked towards it I failed to notice one important detail.

I trudged through the village not noticing the strange attributes the town held.

I couldn’t figure out why but everyone I saw was giving me mean looks, and expressions of scorn.

Something hit my arm. “We don’t want your kind here.” A voice yelled, followed by a couple jeers and cries, I looked up to see a group of villager sporting rocks.

Spooked, I turned around and ran out of the village. Blood dripping from my arm.

When I arrived at the outskirts of the forest I plopped onto the ground, breathing hard.

And that’s when I noticed, everything in the town was black. Black houses, black roads, black clothing, there was absolutely no color.

After figuring out that disturbing fact I tried to figure out the reason they had sent me away, I was still wearing my mourning clothes (which were of course black) I couldn’t think of any reason why they had sent me away.

I looked the same as them, I was wearing dark clothes…

After exhausting the possibilities I noticed the sun was going down so I curled up and fell asleep.

                                  ~*~

When I woke up it was almost midday.

Surprised I had slept so late I jerked up worried I would be in trouble.

Then I remembered I was far from home.

I sighed, hungry and thirsty, still trying to figure out why the villagers where so hostile.

I thought about the stories my father used to tell me of the land of Gloom.

One went like this:

 

The Gloom

In the land of Gloom there is no colors only black the color of night.

It’s ruled by the king of darkness who’s name is known to none.

He rules in a castle shrouded by fog which no one dare approach.

He sits on a black throne of thorns only comfortable to him.

The villages are weak and poor, and always unhappy.

And feel as if they are missing an important piece.

The one thing they are missing, something lost long ago, the gift of children.

Now they live in old run down houses everything black and unattractive and they shun children thinking they are evil, when that’s really what there missing.

 

That’s when it hit me.