The King is Dead Long Live.....

As promised here is the second part of Gavin's journal. Please let me know what y'all think and if there is anything else y'all would like to challenge me to write.

Last night was the worst night of my life. I guess that doesn't say much coming from me... but it's true. I went to bed just like father ordered me to. I tend to be a rather sound sleeper according to many of the servants but last night I had nightmare. I saw my father and hundreds of other peope floating in a lake of blood. I woke up panting. I tried to calm myself with the thought of it was only a dream until I heard the screams.

I leaped out of bed and opened the door of my room. The castle was dark. Lanterns began to light as I heard music. Then I heard it... the cry I knew I would heard someday but not net... not yet: “The King is dead.”

My father... my father is dead. I tried to get to him but servants tried to hold me back muttering “You should not see this Your Higness....” and things of the like. Regardless of their words I had to see my father. I had to know for myself he was gone before Harold took the throne. With the mind of one half my age I pray he is asleep or unconcious. As I reached him I discovered he was pale and cold. With a voice sounding strange to my own ears I call for my father.

I heard the adults saying something about a Forbidden Art being the cause. I collapsed into tears on my father's chest... there was no rising of the chest no heart beat. Father was in Ramur's court now watching us from the stars. Someone attempted to pull me away but Sir Windgravy insisted they let me mourn. As I allowed myself to sob I listened as they continued to talk and heard more disturbing news... They cannot find Harold but Halmion needs a King.

This morning I was crowned King and given four adults who will guide me as I rule until my brother returns. The King is dead... Long live the King... Long live me.... me.... it's not supposed to be me. It's supposed be Harold. It was always supposed to be Harold. I'm only twelve.... how can anyone expect me to rule a Kingdom? What can I do? I can't run away the country would be left in turmoil. I guess I have no choice but to stay and await my brother's return... what if he never comes back... no he must come back he has too.

Ramur, Creator of all please look after Harold and bring him home so he can do what he was always destined to...