At the Victor's Feet

His father lay dying in his arms while his mother hung on the wall of her rooms like a gruesome, bloody tapestry. All around him the castle was in disarray as all too late the king's guards realized the attack had come from within. "Find Tane, son." His father's dying words. "Trust no one!" Then, the blood loss too much, his father closed his eyes, breathed his last and left young Prince Callan alone, confused, and afraid. Tane. Kris Tane. A man out of myth and the mists of time. It was said He had many followers yet no one had heard of or seen Him in over a century. Still, the boy's father would not send him on a fool's errand. Tane. Callan had no idea where to find Him or which way to go. Tane. Finally, after waiting for what seemed like hours, the young prince made his way through the castle, dodging and evading until he reached the secret passage where, with just the clothes on his back and his father's crown in his hands, he made good his escape. He fled the only home he had known in his twelve short years of life. He fled to find a legend.