The Kingdom of Zaniah

Long ago, a kingdom ran supreme. Ruled with an iron fist and unfair measures, the kingdom was not the favorite home of many. The king was selfish, always taking from the people and hoarding his riches. He treated those who served under him unfairly and treated them poorly. Even his advisor who had stuck by him through thick and thin received the short end of every deal.

The advisor, a young man by the name of Henry Richardson served the king without question. With weak self-esteem and confidence, he made it a point to serve the king in anything he asked, even if it put his life in danger. Never looked to for direction as an advisor, he was more of an unhealthy, loyal servant to the king. He received nothing that benefited him; just pain and misery, till one day, his life changed forever.

An old man with a graying beard and a balding head, dressed in robes approached the gates of the kingdom requesting to see the king. With him, he held an ornate, cherry wood box adorned with etched designs. The king at first tried to turn him away, telling the old man he was not welcome there-that was till he revealed what was in the box. Opening it, it displayed three vials and he stated plainly what was in them.

One vial contained potent poison that could kill a man in mere seconds if consumed. The next contained a potion that would change whoever drank it into a strange creature. The last contained a power beyond the comprehension of any human being.

The old man wanted to test the king, skeptical of his power and wished to humble him. The king laughed at him, confident in the decisions he made and wished to prove the old man of his false worth. He proved his point by asking Henry to pick the first vial, expecting it to poison him. Henry did as he was told and took hold of the first vial and took off the cork with a small pop. Downing the liquid, his stomach burned and churned. His body contorted till his appearance was taken over by a strange creature with soft white fur, black and white banded stripes, red eyes, and brown furred tail. The king mocked Henrys appearance, laughing at him and calling him a jester of sorts. Henry felt ashamed and tried to hide what he had become.

The old man then turned to the king, offering him the last two vials. The king only grinned and took hold of one, boasting that he would have the ultimate power and do whatever he pleased. Popping the cork off the top, the king drank the liquid contained in the vial. It fell from his clutch shortly afterwards as he let out a piercing yell. Blood seeped from his eyes and his body shriveled till the floor took his presence. The king was dead, having drank the poison vial.

The old man gave a look of pity to the king before turning to Henry. He held up the last vial and presented it to him. ”This is Prana, ” he began, his voice strained and shrill. ”Is the ultimate power anyone can obtain. Use it wisely, Henry. ”

Henry appeared astonished at the sound of his own name and remained confused when the man vanished in a cloud of dust, leaving Henry standing there with unimaginable power in his hands. What he did with it, only souls could tell.