The day was as bright as the sparkling waters of the Yangtze river. People from all walks of Drakonia gathered at the grand imperial hall. They were gathered because the king had died and it was time to choose a new king.
It was going to be another unforgettable day, the day the heir of Drakonia unsheath the sword of his ancestors, a powerful sword that has been passed down from generation to generation for thousands of years.
The ministers were also present, the senior officials dressed in green silk stood at the left side of the hall, while the worthy officials, dressed in red silk stood at the right side.
Roshan, the young heir to the throne, stood tall and still in the middle of the hall, watching his soon to become subjects.
To him, it was time for his story to change, the time his sorrow would change to happiness, the time agony and mystery would depart from him, and the time to rule.
Being different among others was like a curse to his life, he couldn't perform spells or magic, an ability that comes naturally to other members of the royal family. Due to this, very few people wanted to associate with him, and not everyone acknowledged him as the crown prince.
The minister of rites walked up to him and bowed slightly before him. He handed over the ancestral sword to him before speaking.
"Crown prince Roshan." His voice echoed.
"Unsheathe. The. Sword. Of. Your Ancestors," came the voice of the minister of rites, with each word pronounced clearly and loudly.
Roshan's hands shook slightly as the ancestral crown was handed to him, he had to use his two hands to hold it because of its heaviness.
He looked at the sword the way he would like at what he had lost and found. Unsheathing the sword of his ancestors is one of the things that had kept him going because he knew things would change for him the day he finally does that, and that is why he considers his inability to perform spells something he shouldn't worry about.
With determination he raised the sword up to his abdomen level, his three treasures - body, mind, and spirit - were in perfect harmony, their will to unsheath the sword was unshakeable as the mighty mountains that cradled the Drakonia realm.
He channeled all the energy in him as he held on sword hilts with unyielding grip, and then pulled it in the opposite direction as he unleashed a mighty roar.
Seconds passed, beads of sweat rolled down his face, he was almost feeling dizzy because of the amount of strength he had just used. He looked at the sword he was holding, unexpectedly, the sword didn't unsheath.
Instead it began vibrating simultaneously with a mysterious bead that adorned his wrist. Both shone spontaneously as if they had a connection.
"What is happening?" One of the subjects at the back asked as they all wondered what could actually be happening.
Roshan inhaled heavily, he was going to unsheath the sword no matter what. After composing himself, he wrapped his fingers around the sword hilt again, with an unwavering determination, he pulled the ends of the sword with all his might as he let out another powerful roar.
It was as if the heavens were against him, because he couldn't unsheath the mysterious sword he was holding.
His hands trembled and he fell to his knees, his eyes widened with shock.
"Wait….Is the rumor true?" The ministers began whispering among themselves.
Years ago, there was a rumour that Roshan is a bastard, and it was believed that his mother had killed his father in order to cover her secret. Then the spirit of his father got angry and took revenge by taking all his energy and ability away.
"You cannot even unsheathe the sword of your ancestors? Is that how weak you are?"
The Prime minister questioned as he stood up and walked up to him with a taunting smirk.
"You claim to be a biological child of the royal family, please explain what is happening, your highness." The prime minister demanded.
Roshan's expression was frozen, he couldn't comprehend what was happening to him. Things must not be like this! He thought and began to pull the hilts of the sword forcefully, but the sword didn't unsheath.
The Prime minister shook his head as he watched him with disgust.
"Does this mean….?"
"Does this mean what?" A voice cut the prime minister off, it was prince Maximus, Roshan's uncle. His figure rose up and walked to the middle with graceful strides.
"Does this mean what?" He questioned the prime minister again with a loud and striking voice.
"Even if subjects are spreading rumors about my nephew, don't we all know what is true?" Silence followed Maximus' question as their faces all fell.
"Were we not all here when it was confirmed that my nephew is a biological child of the royal family."
"And…" He paused and pointed to the sword before continuing. "As for the sword, why should we be hard on him because he can't unsheath it?"
"We are all aware of his condition. Moreover, he is still a youth, with many years ahead to grow in strength."
"So isn't it understandable if he can't unsheath the ancestral sword for now?" Maximus' voice thundered through the air as he defended his nephew.
"Your highness," the prime minister said and bowed. "I do not mean to go against your words, but we can't disregard the tradition of our ancestors."
"Crown prince Roshan must unsheath the ancestral sword to carry on the right to the throne. If he can't, I am afraid he won't be able to ascend the throne." The minister declared loudly, rendering Maximus speechless.
"Didn't I tell you? The rumor is true!"
"I knew it! He doesn't even resemble anyone in the royal family."
"He should be sent away from the palace, he is a bastard!
The subjects began saying different things that came to their minds, and they all concluded that he should be sent away from the palace.
"I will leave then," Roshan said with a low voice.
"I said I will leave!!!" He roared loudly as hot tears rolled down his face.
"I will leave and never return! I will leave!!!" He yelled continuously.
"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaagh!!!" He let out a loud cry of pain as he looked up to the heavens, wordlessly pleading that this would be a dream.