Darren watched as his army marched from Navikimas. There are Phalanxes from Jerukimas, Axebands from Konutoki and rank upon rank of pikesmen from Euphraki. From Daretoki itself marched a legion of the finest swordsmen, clad in layers of padded wool studded with metal. The entire army was Two Thousand strong, sparkling in the sunlight.
His looked behind him. A hundred of his finest men stand ready in fifty chariots. His father stood smiling to his right. "So, are you ready to validate your claim, young Crown Prince?"
"I am, King Kuas" spoke Darren in a formal tone, "I will return with the writ of representation from those cities, and nothing less."
"And I expect nothing less as well, my son." spoke Kuas, "I have taught you your entire lifetime. My entire legacy now rests on your robed shoulder; bear it well."
"I will..." answered Darren, trying not to cry like the little boy, all those years ago, holding a stinging hand, "I will make your proud."
"You already have" finished the old man. He shouted an order and his chariot turned around, heading for a small country villa.
Darren turned to his retinue, "Alright, I'm ready; Lets do this!" Raising his lance high while he whipped his horses into a run, "FOR DAAAAAAARETOKIIIIIIIII!"
His hands still stung.
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"Father, why did you whip me?" cried young Darren. He rubbed his hands, almost bleeding by the force of the blow.
"You must learn the Song of Winter today, and know how to answer any question about it with a sonnet" boomed the tall King. His face is free of grey hair and his eyes were glazed and cold, hiding the warmth hidding within.
"The... the Frozen... Frozen song..." stammered the young boy, and the arm raised and fell, landing on the outstretched hand.
"No Stuttering! Try again! If you can do it, you must!"
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"I must" whispered Darren to himself as he crossed the fortified tollboth marking the borders of the Navikiman Province, "I can do it, therefore I must."
With a roar, his army followed him. Like they once followed his father.