He hated this. Hated all of the lives he had to ruin, the lies he had to spread. But what he hated most was the voice inside his head and the things it told him to do. Like now. All he wanted to do was look away, but the voice told him to keep looking. Keep looking at the girl kneeling in front of him, begging for a him that wasn't there anymore...
He hated this. Hated all of the lives he had to ruin, all the lies he had to spread. But what he hated most was the voice inside his head, and the things it told him to do. Like now. All he wanted to do was look away, but the voice told him to keep looking. To keep looking at the girl kneeling in front of him, begging for a him that wasn't there anymore.
George had always thought he could see the future, and that 'visions' would come to him at the most peculiar of times. Like now; he was picking apples from the tree in his family's farm when a vision came to him. Most if his visions in the past had been horrible, with people screaming while rivers ran red with blood. But strangely, this vision was nice. More than nice if George was being honest. It showed a girl about the age of seventeen running through a field full of wild flowers with her honeycomb coloured hair flowing behind her. She was wearing a light pink dress, and even though she faced away from him, George could tell she was beautiful. And she was laughing. To George, it was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. George blinked. He was on the grass, staring up at the sky. He must have fallen. He slowly stood up and dusted himself of, noticing that the apples that he had been picking lay scattered on the ground around him. He picked them up and made his way back to the house. "Good morning, George!" came his mother's voice from the kitchen. George's mother was a kind lady. She had dark brown hair and bright blue eyes, the opposite of his brown ones. She was a round lady, but had a kind smile, and even kinder soul. She was the complete opposite of his father, who sat opposite her at the table. His father had dark skin and black hair, and big, round eyes the colour of melted chocolate. No matter how kind he looked, he was about as cold as a night in winter. He rarely ever acknowledged George, and only spoke to him to give him orders such as ' clean yourself up', and 'work harder in school, maybe then you can get a real job so your mother and I don't have to keep wirking.'. George didn't mind. He barely paid attention to his father either. There was a knick at the door. He winder who it was: barely anyone even knew the Egmont's lived there. Who could it possibly be?
In front of him stood three men. All were tall (about 6ft 4") and had close-cropped blonde hair, and all of them were wearing black clothes with the royal family's crest embroidered onto the pocket of the left breast of their shirts; a crown with a flaming sword going through it. "Are your parents home?" the one on the left asked. He had a deep gravelly voice that suited him well. George only needed to nod and call for his parents for his father to come storming into the hallway. "Who are you and what do you want?" he asked the three men. "We are knights if the realm and we have been sent here by His Majesty, King Albert of Tír na nÓg. He wishes to speak with George Egmont about a matter that we cannot discuss with you." The one on the right said in a voice almost identical to the one on the left. Georges father only stated at him before quietly saying "go and pack your things." "What?" George asked, flabbergasted. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. His gather would just send him off after on sentence from men that they didn't even know. "I said go and pack your things. The king has requested to see you, and we must do as he asks." His father hisses at him before turning back to the men in black.
That was it.
Without much of a choice, George retreated to his room, grabfed a bag and started packing his things, however small the overall amount was. And so, with a quick goodbye to his mother and father, George picked up his bag and started off down the road with the three men, to go and see the king.
The journey was long, and hard, and more than once, a vision hit him (they were once again filled with blood and screams of war) and he woke up, peering at the canopy with three worried faces hovering above him, but after about two weeks of sleeping on the ground and only eating stale bread, the capital was a tiny spot in the distance. "We should be there in about another week if we dont stop as much as we have been doing." on of the men said. George had come to learn that only the two people who had spoken at the door talked. He only learned this when he asked him a question, and one of the other men, Josh if he remembered correctly, pulled him aside and explained that the man who didnt talk, Alex, was mute, so there was no point asking him anything that didnt have a yes or no answer.
As the days passed on, the castle grew from a tiny speck in the distance to a mountanous building towering above them. If you imagine a castle, this was probably the opposite. It was a very dark grey stone, with spires of all differant shapes and sizes. It was absolutely enormous. So big, infact, that even from a mile away, the group of four were in its shadow.
As soon as the group were outside the front door; a 20ft hight wooden thing that would have to have at least 10 people just to open it, Alex knocked once, and only once, before the door swung open to show the dark interior... and no one there to open the door.
Chapter 4 (new)
Alex, Jack and Daniel led George down the hallways. For some reason, all of the hallways were really dark, and George could barely see five metres infront of him. But after what seemed like hours, there!- a ligt! It was very faint, but was coming from around the corner at the end of the hall.