Tranth

Tranth wasn’t always a king. Once, he knew how to play. He knew how to break rules and forge friendships, how to find the best in life. He knew a little dragon named Farore, not of his kingdom, and she was his world. Her free spirit was his light in the dark, an encouraging soul that showed him how to really live. He existed for their time together, playing in the forest on the edge of their worlds.

And then his father died.

The old king was a somber, serious dragon. Tranth loved him, of course, but rarely did the old ruler show affection, or even acknowledge the presence of his son and heir. So when he passed on, a very little, very inexperienced prince was left with a kingdom much too large for his young shoulders.

Every day was a new battle. Tranth sunk himself into his new responsibilities, weighing his mind with worries too great for a youngling. He fought power-hungry advisors, eager for a puppet king, determined to show his capability. He pushed back against neighboring clans, who, seeing a young leader, sought to strike when they were weak. He battled his own mind, nailing it to his destiny as a king, forcing himself to forget his time in the forest. Farore and that life were in the past; this was his present and future.

Time passed. The young king grew into his role, unintentionally becoming his father. When a neighboring tribe changed leaders, he began to push the boundary. War - a war he was ready for - loomed. The ‘peace talk’ organized by the new leader would be a joke, and he was ready to strike. It was easy to attack this faceless, weak tribe with no real leader.

It was much harder to attack Farore.

Art

[img]http://i.imgsafe.org/3b6c548d21.jpg///[/img]
[img]http://orig02.deviantart.net/0ad4/f/2017/023/9/9/frsketch16_by_shelilla-dawjbkf.png///[/img]