Legend of Avalon: Alaric the First Unifier

Chapter 2: Wandering the Palace

Avalon Calendar, Year 100, Month of Bloom, Eighteenth Day

The soft hum of activity filled the palace as young Prince Alaric wandered through its expansive halls. At just two years old, he was already a curious and perceptive child, his crimson eyes wide with wonder as he explored his world. His small steps echoed lightly against the polished stone floors, accompanied by the faint rustle of his tunic and the padding of his leather shoes.

The palace of Arcadia was a marvel, a sprawling fortress of stone and elegance nestled in the northernmost kingdom of Ava. Its high-vaulted ceilings were adorned with murals of Norte's history—heroic kings vanquishing demons, queens forging alliances, and gods blessing the land with prosperity. The walls were lit by magical lanterns, their flickering blue flames sustained by the mystical energy that suffused Avalon.

Alaric paused before one such lantern, reaching out with a tiny hand. The flame's glow danced in his wide eyes as he marveled at the way it burned without smoke or heat.

"You'll burn your fingers if you get too close," a warm voice called from behind him.

Turning, Alaric saw Lady Elinor, one of his caretakers, striding toward him with a soft smile. She wore a simple but elegant gown, her dark hair pinned neatly behind her head.

"Why doesn't it hurt?" Alaric asked, pointing to the flame.

Lady Elinor crouched beside him, her smile deepening. "That's because it's not an ordinary fire. These lanterns are lit with magic, sustained by the mana in the air. You'll learn more about it when you're older."

"Magic," Alaric repeated thoughtfully. He had heard the word often, though its meaning was still shrouded in mystery to him. He reached out again, this time daring to touch the cold glass surrounding the flame. "It's pretty."

"It is," Lady Elinor agreed, taking his hand gently. "But come now, Your Highness. You've wandered far from the nursery. Let's get you back before the queen notices."

"I want to see more," Alaric insisted, his small face set with determination.

Lady Elinor sighed, though her amusement was evident. "Very well. But only for a little while."

They continued down the hall, passing by windows that overlooked the castle gardens. Alaric stopped to peer outside, his breath fogging the glass. The gardens were a riot of colors, even in the cooler northern climate. Rows of blooming flowers lined stone paths, and a fountain carved in the shape of a phoenix stood at the center, its waters sparkling in the sunlight.

"Lady Elinor," Alaric asked, his voice curious, "why does the sky stay light for so long?"

She chuckled, kneeling beside him again. "That's because our days are longer here, Your Highness. In Avalon, a day lasts twenty-eight hours."

"Twenty-eight?" Alaric repeated, his young mind trying to grasp the concept.

"That's right," Elinor said. "And our months are sixty days long, and our years have twelve months. It's different from the lands in the stories, where days are shorter and people age faster."

"Like how?"

"Well," she explained, "here in Avalon, the air is filled with magical particles—mana—that makes everything different. It helps our crops grow stronger, our animals live longer, and even us. Most people live to be eighty years old, and some reach as old as one hundred and fifty."

"Is that a lot?"

"It is," she said, smiling at his innocence. "But it's also why we must take care of this world. The magic is a gift, but it can be dangerous if misused."

Alaric nodded solemnly, though much of what she said was still beyond his understanding. He pressed his hands against the glass again, watching as a group of knights marched through the gardens below. Their polished armor gleamed in the sun, and the banners of House Thorne fluttered in the breeze.

"I want to be like them," Alaric said, pointing to the knights. "Strong and brave."

"You will be," Lady Elinor assured him. "But even knights must start small. For now, your task is to learn and grow."

Their wanderings eventually took them to the kitchens, where the air was thick with the scent of baking bread and roasting meats. The head cook, a burly man named Master Gordon, greeted them with a boisterous laugh.

"Ah, young Prince Alaric! What brings you to my domain?"

Alaric grinned up at him. "I'm exploring."

"Exploring, is it?" Gordon said, wiping his hands on his apron. "Well, every explorer needs fuel. Here, try this."

He handed Alaric a small tart filled with sweet cream and berries. The boy's eyes lit up as he took a bite, the flavors bursting on his tongue.

"Good?" Gordon asked, his grin widening.

"Very good!" Alaric said, his voice muffled by the pastry.

Lady Elinor shook her head fondly. "You're spoiling him, Master Gordon."

"Nonsense," Gordon replied, waving a hand. "A prince needs his strength."

As the afternoon wore on, Alaric found himself back in the great hall, where the banners of his house hung proudly. He wandered to the base of a massive tapestry that depicted the history of Norte—its founding, its battles against the demons, and its rise as a beacon of strength in the north.

His small hand reached out to touch the embroidered phoenix, its crimson wings spread wide. "Why a phoenix?" he asked.

Lady Elinor knelt beside him. "The phoenix symbolizes rebirth and resilience. No matter how many times it falls, it rises again, stronger than before. Just like our kingdom."

Alaric stared at the phoenix, his young mind awash with wonder. "Will I rise again, too?"

Lady Elinor smiled, brushing a strand of blue hair from his face. "You already have, little prince. Every day, you grow stronger and brighter. One day, you'll soar higher than anyone."

Satisfied with her answer, Alaric turned and began running down the hall, his laughter echoing off the stone walls. Lady Elinor followed at a leisurely pace, her heart warmed by his boundless energy.

That evening, as the sun dipped low on the horizon, Alaric sat with his mother in the nursery. Queen Celeste's gentle hands combed through his hair as she sang an old lullaby, her voice soft and soothing.

"Did you enjoy your adventure today?" she asked.

Alaric nodded sleepily. "I saw the knights. And the magic fire. And I had a tart."

Celeste chuckled, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "You've had quite a day, my little phoenix.It's time to sleep."

As he drifted off to sleep, Alaric dreamed of soaring high above the castle, his crimson wings spreading wide against the endless sky. The world of Avalon was vast, beautiful, and filled with mystery—and one day, he would explore it all.

(Continue...)