"This is not a game!" Dominar growled at his three sons.

The oldest two, the twins Gosvenor and Ninurta at fourteen years of age, nodded their blonde heads. The youngest at eight years of age, Proditione, stood perfectly still. A smile plastered across his thin pale face. Their father walked in front of them, pacing.

"The three of you are to report to me when you finish your lessons from now on." Dominar continued, his booming voice echoing through the dark throne room.

The twins glanced at each other as Proditione's smile transformed into a look of alarm.

"I will have a lesson for each of you until you learn to act as princes." Dominar stopped pacing in front of Proditione, "Is that understood?"

"Yes Father." The twins chorused, quickly and quietly.

"I said," Dominar looked down at his youngest son, "Is that understood?"

Proditione stared into his father's cold unforgiving grey eyes, "Yes Father!" He squeaked, his small hands trembling at his sides.

The three were excused from the throne room. Walking in a single file line, with Gosvenor in the front and Proditione in the back.

"What game do you want to play now?" Proditione cheerily asked his brothers as they walked to their rooms.

"How don't you get this?" Gosvenor snapped, stopping in the middle of the hallway, "Father is mad at us, and it was your fault!"

"It was just a game." Proditione whispered, lowering his small head.

"Your game is getting us punished daily!" Gosvenor yelled, he turned and stormed off, leaving Ninurta and Proditione alone.

"Don't worry about Gos too much." Ninurta whispered to his little brother, "He's just upset."

"He seemed really upset." Prodtione muttered, looking up at his brother, "And he's never as nice to me as you are."

"Yes well," Ninurta looked away from his brother, "that probably has more to do with your mother than anything else."

"What does my mother have to do with me and Gos?" Proditione asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

Ninurta smiled sadly, "I think, " He hesitated, "I think that's something you'll have to ask your mother about."

Proditione smiled, "Ok! I'm going to go ask her now!" The red headed elf turned and ran down the dark corridor, leaving his older brother alone.

_________________________

"MARI!" Inga screeched looking for her daughter from the front door of the family's stone home. Her call echoing through the caves. The rest of the village shared a look that read, that poor girl's about to be in big trouble.

Mari winced, looking up at her Aunt Zora she asked, "Is mother going to be mad at me."

Zora knelt down on one knee, the silver armor glinting in the dark light of the caves, and brushed some of Mari's black hair out of her face, "I swear on my fleet, you won't get in even a hair of trouble." Her black lips curled up into a smile, "Lets go little warrior, it's best if we don't make her wait for to long."

She stood up, holding the nine year-old's hand, "I've got her Inga!" She yelled, "We're coming!"

"What exactly were you two doing?" Inga questioned as they neared the door.

Zora smiled at her sister, "Training."

"Training for what?" Inga crossed her arms

"For when she'll join the Warriors." Zora tightened her grip on Mari's hand

The sisters stared at each other, neither speaking until Igna finally snapped, "Mari, go inside. Now."

"Yes mother." Mari whispered, running inside. She ducked around the corner of the hallway and pinned her back to the wall. She listened hard to the argument between her mother and her aunt.

"You know how I feel about the Warriors." Inga growled at Zora

"You can't just keep her away from it!" Zora scoffed, "She wants to join them!"

The Tenebrosus Warriors, the army of Obsuria. Zora had been teaching Mari about them ever since the girl had begged her too when she was six.

"Only because you filled her head with fantasies of becoming some general!" Inga shouted, "If you won't obey my wishes and continue to teach her Punga, I won't want you near my daughter."

Mari gasped, It wasn't possible! No more Aunt Zora? No more training sessions? It couldn't happen!

"Inga please!" Zora pleaded, "I love Mari! She's like a daughter to me!"

"If you wanted a daughter," Inga groweld, "You shouldn't have joined the Warriors!"

It was well known that the Warrior's were forbidden from having children. Mari didn't know what happened to the ones that did. Zora wouldn't tell her when she'd asked, all she'd been told was that horrible things happen when they do.

Mari heard the door slam, and her mother's footsteps coming towards her. She lept up and ran to her small room in the back of the house. As she sat on her bed, Mari could hear her mother down the hall, crying.

"I'm sorry Zora." Inga whispered to the empty room.

The little girl took her fake sword and and took off the fake armor Aunt Zora had given her, she stuffed all of it under her bed. She still wanted to be a Warrior, but for now it was probably best kept away from her mother.