This is next addition to the piece. This part is chronologically before the first part i posted. But it is not yet decided whether this is going to be written just as part of the story, before the scene with Tash, or if it is going to be flashback from later in the story, or if it is possibly going to be the Prologue. I wrote it with the intention of creating a prologue, but it is not for certain if this will be it.
A slow deep melancholy beat hit the heavy oak door. Its sad sound would have echoed in the great hall if it were not so busy with bustling people of all shapes and sizes moving about it. A second, louder series of knocks occurred, now catching the attention of the more observant of the crowd. Those who heard suddenly stopped there bustling. The rest were quick to follow. The leader of the group of men stood up as everyone else began a long awkward silence.
“Come in...?” said the chief man after clearing his throat. He along with everyone else was certainly curious at the idea of any one person interrupting their fine business. You see, these men were working men. Not quite like the peasants or farmers or merchants or gypsies. These men worked for the King himself. They were educated men, business men. They were not royalty and they were not a part of the court, but an important part none the less. These twenty or so men worked out the finer details of the country's economy. They took into account the food, the armies, the gold, and all other things that were of importance.
“Come in!” he said this time with a little less curiosity and a little more aggravation. The heavy golden handle turned and the large oak door began to open. A man stepped through rather quickly. He closed the door behind him quite quickly, for it was winter now, and a fast breeze blowing throughout a crowded room full of scrolls and writing feathers is generally not appreciated by the men working with such light weight equipment. The man was dressed well by the standard of royal importance, but definitely not dressed well by the standard of the cold weather outside. He didn't shiver much at all, but that wouldn't fool most people that he was awfully cold. He wore a robe, which resembled those of the ancient Greeks, but covered both shoulders. It was mostly white, but possessed some green lining along with it. He of course had decent sandles on as anyone could infer from the rest of his clothes. Any plain old peasant wouldn't have been shooed at all. The man was now identified as a messenger of some sort. He walked briskly towards the chief man who still stood in the same place. The messenger handed a half-print scroll to the chief man.
“From who is this letter sent?” asked the chief man as he began to unravel the letter. The messenger, who was apparently unable to talk, pointed to the bottom right of the small paper. What the mute messenger pointed to was not a name, but a symbol. This symbol had been stamped on the letter. It was the royal seal. This meant that it had been delivered straight from the royal palace itself. The chief man looked fairly surprised, but he covered it quite well. Generally when one received news from the royal court, if ever, it was either wonderful news or terrible news. Unfortunately the contents of the letter were the latter. The chief man at this point had not yet read the message. He thanked the mute messenger and tried to send him out, but the man was nearly already out the door by the time he had given the letter to the chief man. A couple of the business men started back on the day's work, but a few watched out of curiosity to see if they could depict what sort of news was contained with the scroll. The chief man peered down to look at the letter. From the business men's view, they could see the chief man's eyes open wide, read for a second time what he had already read, and open his eyes wide with terror a second time. The chief man's eyes, full of emotion and surprise, darted upwards to look around. At this point, the whole room was as silent as before when the messenger had arrived. He looked back down, this time not at the letter, but at the floor before him. He began to rush through the room towards the back where his private quarters were located. People made way for him. Anyone in their right mind who would have seen this man walking the way he walked on this cold winter evening would have made room for him. He gave off a radiance, a feeling, of pity, or regretfulness, or sorrow, and or embarrassment, all in one quick stride. He opened his door quietly, but quickly, and the door was immediately closed behind him thereafter. He then stopped his quick, meaningful steps. He now trudged along towards his chair, about eight feet away. He tossed the letter on his desk in a thoughtless manner. Walking over to his seat, he slumped down into his chair. The chief man sat for a couple of minutes in silence. He put his hands evenly together and leaned his head on them, as if in deep though. His eyes were open, but he wasn't looking at anything. Minutes passed and he then finally grabbed the scroll. He opened it and looked at it a final time. It read: “I, Sir Ayedon, knight and second to his highness, bring regretful news. Three days ago our beloved King and Queen died. Details of their death are not to be disclosed. If you are reading this, you are one of many men who have been selected to know this important information. For the time being, you are to not inform anyone else of this incident. Hopefully, in a timely manner, the sad news will be informed to the public. For the time being, I will be the provisional leader of the land of Minnica, until the King's heir, Tash, comes of age.”
The words were then followed by the royal seal, as mentioned earlier. The chief man rolled the scroll up with trembling, plump hands, and weakly got up to finish the day's work.