Year-long NaNo discussion

Many years ago the royal family was massacred, leaving their murder as the only heir. But those inside the castle know a secret, the youngest of the princes still lives and will soon come of age.

Ray is the greatest illusionist in the realm. He can vanish in the blink of an eye, escape out of any prison and trick the most brilliant person. When the prince comes to his village, asking for help to reclaim his crown, Ray is reluctant. Even as a small boy, he made it a point to stay out of politics. As his father used to say, ‘politics are more dangerous than eating a sword'.

But when every eighteen-year-old boy in the kingdom is being put to death, Ray knows he can’t stand idly by and do nothing. The only question is, will his best act be enough to bring the prince safely to the throne? Or will the kingdom be doomed to more blood shed?

With the help of a retired royal guard, the local blacksmith, an energetic boy and an illusionist, Prince Balenty may have a chance of surviving. But without their help, he won’t make it to the castle alive.

I honestly love this! You've taken a common plot and given it your own touch. I would definitely read a novel like this.

Oceane wrote: "I honestly love this! You've taken a common plot and given it your own touch. I would definitely read a novel like this."

Thanks! :)

Rough first draft of chapter 1:

Ray sloshed the ale around in his mug, trying to decide if he should finish with or without the giant bug at the bottom. He was distracted from his own thoughts, when a gruff looking man, donning a tunic with the royal chest entered the tavern followed by two of his fellow guards.
“I’m a Royal Guard,” the leader spat at the barmaid who’d just been finishing with another customer. “And you will treat me with the respect I deserve, Woman!” With that he shoved her against the counter. “Now, get me my dinner.”
On second thought… Ray would drink his ale, he’d found a better use for it, bug and all. He stood up and turned towards the guards, then before any of them had even noticed him standing there, he threw the contents of his mug at one of them.
The guard he’d hit with the ale swore as he stepped back and flung the ale from his tunic. “What the Draven do you think you’re doing?!”
“I’m sorry did I get that on you?” Ray asked, sitting the mug back down on the counter. “I had meant to throw it out on the road with the rest of the sewage, not that it matters. It does appear I have thrown it with the scum after all.”
“Are you call us, the King’s Royal Guards, ‘scum’?” he snarled, glaring at Ray.
Ray just stood there and smiled back at the man. “If you couldn’t hear me the first time, maybe I should have poured it in your ear.”
“By my king’s honor, I will not take this from a peasant!” he spat, drawing his sword. “Where’s your sword, boy?”
Ray laughed. “Where’s your honor, or your hair for that matter?”
The bald guard turned bright red. “I shall strike you down, like the dog you are!” With those words, the Royal Guard lunged at Ray.
Ray side stepped it with ease, then spun around, stepped onto a stool and onto the top of the table. All around them the tavern guests retreated with their food and drinks to the side of the room to watch the spectacle.
He turned towards the guards stand around the table where he stood and he smiled at them. “You can surrender now, before any of you gets hurt. What shall it be?” The words were barely out of his mouth, before the guard jabbed at him with the tip of his sword. Ray shrugged. “Fight it is.”
He leapt up, just as the guard swept at his legs. A fraction of a second later, Ray came back down on top of the guard’s sword, yanking it free from his hand.
“It would appear I’m the one with the sword now,” Ray said, bringing his right leg up. He slammed the sole of his boot into the guard’s chest and threw him back and off balance. The fool tripped over a stool and fell to the ground.
With one glance around, Ray flipped over the table, grabbing the halt of the sword as he landed on his feet on the other side of the table. He twisted around and brought his sword up, just in time to block the second guard’s sword above his head.
“Well, hello,” Ray said, kneeing the guard in the stomach with his favorite poleyns on. The guard doubled over in pain as the metal slammed into him. He shoved the guard back and turned towards the side. Ray bent back as the third guard’s sword swept over his chest.
He was standing back up a moment later, and blocked the guard’s next attack.
After a few strokes it was quite evident that Ray was no novice to the sword craft. Only seconds had past when he had the guard in full retreat, pressing him back further and further.
A knife seemed to appear in Ray’s free hand from where it had been in his belt. He spun around and threw it at the wall. It embedded deep into the wall and through second guard’s thick tunic, pinning him there. All while still keeping his defense up against the third guard.
Ray faked a faltered move, and allowed the guard to try and thrust his blade into his stomach. But when he did, Ray brought his sword around and yanked the guard’s blade from his hand, causing to fly across the ground and under one of the tables.
The next second he withdrew something from his jacket. It looked very much like a sugar cube, but it was far from it. He crushed it in his hand and smiled at the guard. Quickly, he blew the powder into the guard’s face, causing him to cough before his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he collapsed to the ground.
The last guard standing, kicked out at Ray and caused him to stumble back and trip on a stool.
He fell, rolled across the ground, sprang up, and lunged at the guard. Ray hooked his leg around the guard, twisted around and brought him to the ground.
Ray dropped down on the top of him, and shoved his knee into the guard’s chest, causing him to cry out in pain. But he just ignored him, as he took the guard’s bag of coins and tossed it to the barmaid. She caught it and smiled at him.
“I suggest you don’t come back here again,” Ray said, turning back to the guard as he shoved himself back his feet. “I’m here quite often. Now, take your friend and get out of here,” he said, nodding towards the still unconscious guard.
The guard nodded, scrambling to his feet and hurried to the other guard’s side, dragging him out of the tavern.
Ray let a moment elapse. Before he moved over to the guard pinned to the wall. “Hold still,” he ordered, gripping the knife, he yanked it out and released the guard. “Now, go. Before I decide to use this knife for a more lethal purpose.”

Once he was sure they weren’t coming back, Ray moved back towards his seat and swung himself back onto the stool. He’d barely made himself comfortable, when the barmaid appeared with a plate of meat and bread.
“Oh the house,” she said, with a wink as she pushed to towards him. He smiled and thanked her, before he began to eat. He was only sitting there a moment, before he was no longer along and a man appeared beside him.
“Ray,” the man said, sitting down next him.
“Harther,” he mumbled, without bothering to look over at the older man. “What brings you to this side of the village?”
“You do.”
Ray raised an eyebrow and turned towards him. “Now how did I do that? As far as I recall, I haven’t been spoken to you for these past months.”
“You just took on three Royal Guards!” Harther said, grinning. “Aren’t you at all afraid they’ll come back?”
“What? And have to admit that they were bested by a ‘peasant’ without a sword? I think not,” Ray said. “As an ex-guard yourself, you’d think you would know that.”
“Yes, that is true,” he said. “Tonight is not the only thing I came to speak with you about. Can we speak somewhere more private?”
Ray glanced around him. Sure there was quite a lot of people still there, but most of them were too deep in the bottle to be a problem and those we weren’t, he doubted cared about what they would be talking about. “Whatever you have to say can be said here,” he said, biting into the meat. “I have nothing to hide.”
“It was not your sake I was suggesting it,” he said, glancing over Ray shoulder.
Ray turned and followed the man’s gaze. As he did so, a cloaked figure came forwards out of the shadows and gave them a nod. Strange. But they’d grabbed his attention.
Sighing, Ray gathered up his plate and called to the barmaid, “Hilly, can we use the back room for a moment?”
She turned towards them and nodded. “Anything for my favorite customer.”
With a nod of thanks, he lead Harther and the cloaked stranger into the other room. It wasn’t big, but there was enough room for the three of them. “Alright, what might this all be about?” Ray asked, turning towards them as he lean against the wall and started eat again.
Harther nodded to the cloaked stranger. “I am Prince Garth,” he whispered, glancing around the small room before pulling his hood down. “The lost prince.”
Ray laughed, shoving a piece of bread into his mouth. “That’s a good joke, mate. But I wouldn’t suggest becoming a jester.”
“What? Do you not believe that a prince could hide among us?” Harther asked, his face hardening.
“I didn’t say that,” Ray said, tossing his now empty plate away. “But why here? Hatter is but a small sea shore village, not quite the place for a noble to grow up.”
“I was the Captain of the former king’s guards…”
“I’ve heard the story, Harther,” Ray said, cutting the older man off. “What does any of it have to do with me?”
Harther seemed taken aback by his harshness. “I’m getting to that,” he responded sharply to Ray. “Garth was sent with me, to protect him. To keep him safe until after the day he was to come of age, that day has now come and gone. It is time for him to reclaim his rightful place as King of Shenock.”
Ray sighed. “Even if this is the truth, what does it have to do with me?”
“We want your help.”
“Doing what?”
“Getting inside the Palace.”
Getting inside the Palace? Was he joking? He was the ex-Royal Guard, not Ray. He laughed and shook his head. “I would be no help, even if I wanted to help, which I do not.”
“I too have heard stories, but about you Ray,” he whispered. “You’re quite the escapologist, we could use your help.”
Ray shook his head. “I don’t get involved in politics.”
“What was that, but ten minutes ago?” Garth asked. “You utterly humiliated those Royal Guards!”
“That wasn’t politics,” Ray said. “Insulting the King’s Guards isn’t quite that same thing as over throwing said king. I am not a rebel, nor do I wish to be.”
“I never seen anyone do what you did tonight!” the Prince cried. “You took on three Royal Guards without a second thought, and you won!”
“It was nothing,” Ray said.
“Yes, it was. You stood up when others would back down.”
He sighed, he did not doubt the boy was indeed Prince Garth, but that was beside the point. “I’m an illusionist, not a soldier. I do not join fights I cannot win.”
“The way you fought tonight had nothing to do with illusions! And I don’t believe there are many fights you would not win.”
“I did use an illusion,” Ray said, grinning. “I was the illusion. They looked at me, and only saw a peasant without a sword or anything to defend himself with, not someone who could best them.”
“Ray…”
“If this was all had to say, there is no reason for you to stay any longer. Good evening, Harther, your majesty,” Ray said, opening the door to the back room. “I wish you well on your quest.”
“Maybe Harther is wrong about you,” Garth whispered, standing beside him. “Maybe you’re just a drunkard who does stupid things, and does not care about anyone but himself.”
“If you change your mind, you know where to find me, at least until the end of the week,” Harther said, looking at him sadly as he pulled Garth through the door. “Please, at least think about it.”
Ray did not respond, as they both walked away.