Introduction to Shai

I've had this idea for a long time now. I think since 8th grade. Anyway, enjoy it. If you have questions, just ask. Thanks.

Preface

A Prince’s Fate


The room was crowded. People sat in rows of chairs, each straining to catch a glimpse of the chained prisoner. A young man with long silver hair stood on a raised pedestal, surrounded by half a dozen guards wearing full sets of armor, looking out over the congregation. His face was blank, giving away nothing. Silver eyes watched the council, all seated around a long, square table, harsh and determined. A few members squirmed under his gaze, but didn't dare turn around in fear of meeting his eyes. Some were brave and chanced a glance, only to shy away with a shiver running down their spine.

A bell chimed; long and low, filling the room with its vibrations. No one moved as the wooden door creaked open from the back of the room. All voices died until a baby's cry could be heard, leaving the mother frantic as she tried to quiet the child. For a split moment, the doorway remained empty, and then a man entered. Tall and proud, he was dressed in an all white uniform resembling a nobleman’s suit coat. His dress shirt was covered by a bright sapphire cumberbun, lined with white pinstripes. The coat fell until it swept across the floor, lightly dusting the ground as he walked. A gold medallion hung around his neck, depicting a seven-sided star; it glinted in the sunlight that shone through the windows lining top to bottom along the dungeon walls. A single ring, garneted with a lone ruby, glinted on his left thumb.

The councilmen stood in unison, bowing their heads to the man. He continued forward, ignoring them, until he stood face-to-face with the prisoner. His face screamed conceit and his eyes glittered with loathing.

“How does it feel,” his voice was low and sultry, “to be hated by the very people who once worshiped you?”

The prisoner smirked, an evil and mocking gesture, “How does it feel knowing that you'll never receive such worship, German?”

German's eyes gleaned with anger, but only for a moment before they settled back down to a calm blue, “You can still avoid your changed fate. All you need to do is renounce your birthright to me and all will be well.”
  
“And give you everything you desire?” A sharp laugh filled with genuine amusement escaped his lips, “You must think me idiotic.”
  
“Very well, then accept your fate.” German hissed as he spun around on his heel and approached the chair at the top of the council table. He did not sit down, but inclined his head for the councilmen to take a seat. The congregation all sat perfectly still, watching and waiting for what was to come.

“People of Shai,” German yelled, his voice filled with the power of authority, “it has been determined by the King of Ebraiya that his son, Prince Silvermist, shall take upon his birth name and be banished to the Outskirts. His hair will be trimmed and his magic stripped, locked away and never to be returned to him. The crime he is being charged with is failure to acknowledge his Fate that was given to him by the Sapients.”
  
A hushed gasp spread through the assembly as German continued, ignoring the brief interruption, “If any are to be seen harboring or aiding Prince Silvermist after his banishment has taken place, they will be put into the Pits of Kainbriage for twenty-five years.”
  
German's voice echoed until the entire congregation had heard the fate bestowed to their young prince. Many stood and began to pronounce words of objection while many simply settled down in grief, tears staining their cheeks as they crouched in misery. The cries were lost on German's ears as he turned and viewed the prince, a smile plastered on his lips. He took in Silvermist's closed eyes, head tilted up at the sunlight shining down through the spherical skylight above. He took a deep breath and clenched the muscles in his arms. German's eyes widened in recognition just as the prince opened his eyes, a wicked red gleaming over the silver, and he opened his mouth emitting a yell that silenced the room. All eyes were on him as German screamed at the soldiers to grab hold of the prince. A few did, grasping his arms tightly, only to shrink away in pain, holding their hands and screaming as they fell back. The prisoner's guards all backed away; the only thing keeping them from running from the scene being the discipline drilled into them at the military academy.
  
A line of thick, red flames began to permeate around the prince, his yell shaking the foundation of the building. The people panicked, running for the exit as quickly as they could, shoving each other and knocking the elderly out of the way. German raced forward, sword flying from the scabbard around his waist, and stabbed Silvermist in the back. The force of the blade continued forward until the tip burst through the prince's chest. His yell stopped short, and he fell, clutching his hands uselessly in front of him. The flames around him died down and went still. With a satisfied smirk, German approached the prince and kicked him onto his side. Silver-red eyes stared defiantly up at him. With a yell of panic, German backed away, but was caught when the prince's hand shot up and grasped his ankle, knocking the man down. The gurgled yell continued from the prince's throat, the sword sliding out of his body and clattering to the ground. Blood seeped down from the wound, staining already dirtied clothes. The flames around him doubled, shooting up as high as the ceiling. He pointed his hand at the wall to his left, and with the sound of a shotgun going off, a ball of red fire flew from his outstretched hand and struck the wall. An explosion erupted, the entire wall crashing to the ground. Large chunks of glass and stone fell down around the people still left in the building. Smoke filled the room, covering every square inch with a poison that made everyone cough and push the person in from of them to get out faster.
  
German, dazed and confused, located his sword from the ground and stood. He shook his head and faced the spot where the prince stood. Only he was no where to be seen. The only proof of his presence being a dark charred mark imprinted on the ground.