Dusk.
Grounds, Royal Citadel.
Critic Citadel, Critic-Ishire.
*****************
The grounds of the ancient castle stirred with anticipation as two figures emerged in the early morning light, their footsteps echoing against the stone walls.
The king, his crimson cloak billowed behind him, as he strode purposefully alongside his brother, Theodore, whose sky-blue eyes glinted with wrath.
Both men bore a striking resemblance, with locks of gold cascading over their broad shoulders, yet their eyes betrayed their differences, the king's a fiery red, Theodore's a tranquil blue.
"You came" Salvatore rasped.
Without turning to him Theodore questioned him. "What game are you playing now?"
"Acknowledging my brother's game?" Salvatore shrugged.
"Salvatore you should have outgrown being a pest" Theodore let out, his eyes stern.
"And you are correct, I am not a pest anymore, I own the kingdom" Salvatore.
