"The Black Banner" -Evan Meekins    Prologue Prince Julius Hargren of Myradon ran through the lushgardens of his father’s palace. Still too young to be concernedwith the welfare and the future of his kingdom, Julius spentmost of his days acting like any regular energetic, curious boy,even playing with other common children.It was a very special day for the royal family. The Hargrenbloodline had been the rulers of Myradon, the Human kingdomof the land of Verden, for centuries, and today was Genetica, theannual festival celebrating their royal, historic lineage. In thecapital city of Micos, the noble families would join together foran afternoon of fine dining and entertainment, while all over therest of the country, the Humans would partake in an energeticcelebration.To Julius, the festivities in Micos seemed rather boringcompared with those throughout the rest of the country, but theboy had a knack for creating his own entertainment. Julius lovedto explore Micos. The city was an endless labyrinth of interestand discoveries, and no matter how many times he venturedthrough its white corridors or luscious gardens, now litteredwith the fallen pink cherry blossom petals of spring, Julius wasalways able to discover something new.***As Julius shrugged off his princely duties, he stumbledacross an entirely unfamiliar and dim district in Micos. Thefestive music died down and the granite pillars were replacedwith rotted wooden beams as he continued down narrowalleyways. Julius stopped when the light breeze froze to an eeriestillness. The scent of fresh flowers turned to mold, and thecolorful mosaics of honor and nobility were nonexistent. Rundowntenements were shadowed by its surrounding buildings,as if the capital itself wanted to conceal its existence.He felt a chill as he gazed upon one of the ominous structuresthat lined the dark alleyway, but insatiable curiosity drove himforward.Julius slowly approached the dark, dreary one-story buildingbefore him, his nerves propelling him onward more than pullinghim back. He laid his small hand upon the building’s rough,worn, splintered wooden door, and gently creaked it open, justenough for him to slip noiselessly through. The inside was bleak,almost deserted looking, and only one light guided Julius fromtripping over himself on the coarse dirt that coated the otherwisebarren floor. A flickering light radiated behind a doorway madeof a blanket nailed to both sides of the doorframe and drapedacross the entrance. It barely held together from the abundanceof moldy holes that seemed as if a bear had gnawed through it.Julius peeled back the curtain, and behind it sat a large,brutish figure hunched over a table. Julius stood in place andstared at the creature.It looked Human, but its disproportionately large hands andfeet made it seem as if it were from a different world altogether.The clothes on its back were thin, riddled with breaks in theseam, and had no sort of design to them.As Julius leaned closer to get a better view of his discovery,he shuffled his feet on the floor. Julius held his breath as thecreature merely turned its head and made eye contact. Fullyseeing its flat and broad forehead allowed Julius to recognizethe creature; a Roegan, a male one too.Roegans were the servants for the nobles of Micos, butanybody throughout Myradon with enough coin could buy oneto be their personal assistant or farmhand. Although universallyperceived as the lesser race in all of Verden, each kingdom dealt***with how they would be treated in their society individually andwith many differences.Julius, unlike most other Humans, felt the Roegans wereno different than any other being in the land. In fact, he wascurious about who they were and their style of life, but wheneverhe tried to converse with a Roegan, they would either slink awaywith their heads low or be violently pushed away by guards. Theonly Roegan that did not shy away from him was Ayla, his bestfriend, but she didn’t count. No, Julius wanted to talk to anadult Roegan, one that had lived long enough to tell an actualstory, and in that building, almost entirely alone, he had his bestchance of doing it.Julius opened his mouth to speak to the Roegan, but theRoegan hunched over the table even further, as if he wasashamed. Julius approached him, hoping to ease his shame, butjust as Julius was about to place his gentle hand on the Roegan’srugged shoulder, the front door slammed open and shouts rangout through the hallow tenement.Palace guards stormed the room, and the Roegan livened uptheir shouts. He stumbled out from his chair, knocking it overin his haste, and scurried over to the dark corner of the roomfarthest from Julius, where he huddled and trembled in fear.The guards tore down the curtain to the room, and one ofthem picked up Julius and started to carry him out. At the sametime another guard, a tall, muscular man with a dark red goatee,made a beeline for the Roegan.“How dare you kidnap the King’s son!” barked the guard. “I’llhave you hanged for that!” Then he beat the Roegan, punchinghim until his wounds burst open and blood leaked into a smallpuddle around his decrepit body.“NO!” screamed Julius, as he wiggled his way out of theguard’s grasp and pounded his fists on the red-haired man’sbackside. “You can’t do this! He didn’t even know I was here!”Tears streamed down his face as he pleaded for an end to thesuffering.The guard ignored his efforts and continued the brutishonslaught as the others struggled to maintain control of the boy.“Stop!” a powerful voice rang out, and the world stoodstill. The guards rapidly lined themselves on the edges of the***room, and even the Roegan, bloody and beaten, tried to standat attention. The man from whom the shout echoed out strodeinto the room, helped the Roegan to his feet, and orderedthe commanding guard to escort the Roegan to the hospital,ensuring that he receive the utmost attention and care.The Roegan tried to say “Thank you,” but only blood spurtfrom his mouth, concealing his words in a flow of crimson.The man, Julius’s father, took his son with an arm aroundthe shoulder. No matter how many times he saw it, Julius couldnot help but stare at the magnificent golden ring with a hexagonof triangular rubies, the Hargren royal crest, on his father’sfinger.“It’s time to go home, Julius,” the King said, and they walkedout of the tenement and back to the royal palace in silence.Once home, the festivities had not stopped; the winecontinued to pour, the band never missed a note, and evenJulius’s father did not stop speaking to the crowd. It was as ifthe world was oblivious to the horror that had just occurred,like it did not matter. For Julius, though, it was as if his life hadstalled and turned upside down.He could not take part in the festivities, for in every Roeganserving mead or escorting a noble, Julius saw the image of thebeaten Roegan—helpless, innocent, and bloody. He could neverreturn to the carefree childhood that he was blessed with for somany years. He could no longer take his future responsibilitiesas the next king without care or importance. The life he had justfive minutes ago had ended.Julius was no longer a boy. Now Julius was a prince.