The Last Heir, FanFic Options

[redsrock]

I hope you all enjoy the story and as always please leave feedback or a word of wisdom. I'm always looking for help and suggestions.



The Last Heir

CHAPTER ONE

The goblins were rushing in through the barn door, but they had no clue I was sitting up above on a rickety plank, ready to jump down and slay the evil beasts.

With my trusty spear in hand I dove down from above and struck one of the monstrous creatures to the floor. The others shrieked loudly as they charged me, but it was of no use. My skills in battle were envied by all and matched by no one.

One by one I sliced my way through the goblin horde until only the chieftain stood before me. He held his magical battle axe in hand with a furious expression, but I knew his intimidating stature was unreal. He was truly afraid of me and wanted nothing more than to run back to his smelly cave, but alas I was guarding the only exit out of my barn.

Slowly I walked towards the monster and as I inched closer and closer I began to see the sweat dripping from the chieftain’s face. His hands that were clutched tightly around the axe were shaking wildly. He stood no chance.

“Lukas, have you finished cleaning the barn yet? Supper is almost ready!”

At the sounds of my mothers shrill voice the battle ended and suddenly I was unfortunately sucked back into boring reality.

“Not yet mother, give me another ten minutes or so…”

I quickly took the broom I was holding and started sweeping the floor because I knew it was only a matter of seconds until my mother came to see what the matter was. She told me to clean the place an hour ago but of course like usual I had dazed off into my own fantasy land.

“LUKAS! Will you please clean things up quickly? Supper is just a few minutes from being ready and you’ve barely even started! What have you been doing in here all this time?”

Sure enough she entered the barn with the same stern expression she gave me every time I angered her, which seemed to be often.

“I was fightin’ the goblins mama, I had to protect our barn from the enemy,” I said with a sly smile about me.

My mother hated it when I pretended to be a knight or a warrior, or whatever... For some odd reason she becomes very infuriated whenever I did so.

“Lukas, you’re fifteen years old! When are you going to grow up?” She said with her arms folding firmly across her chest.

“Fine, fine, I’ll clean the barn, it shouldn’t take too long!”

“The next time I catch your mind wandering about when you’re supposed to be doing chores you’ll get a whipping you’ve never imagined before.”

I simply rolled my eyes as she walked away. But of course she wasn’t yet finished with her tirade. “And stop pretending my broom is some kind of weapon!”

“I can’t help it mama, I’m gonna be a knight some day!” I chuckled back.

She grunted loudly and finally ended the argument with a threat I’ve heard millions of times before, “You break my broom and I’ll break your legs!”

I always laughed loudly at that one, for my mother wasn’t abusive as some kids’ mothers were. She would never lay a finger on me, besides my constant spankings of course.

Come to think of it, I’d hate to see what she would do if someone ever did laid their hands on me. It sure wouldn’t be pretty, I know that for sure. My mom is extremely protective of me.

I think that’s why I am home-schooled. She probably doesn’t want to even think about me being whipped by the school’s headmaster, which I am almost positive would be a daily activity. She’d rather do that herself…


Two hours later I finished sweeping the floors and bundling all the hay. It took me longer than I expected and mother wasn’t too thrilled about the delay.

“Sorry mama, it took me a bit long than I thought it would. Mama…?”

I yelled a bit more but was never given a response. My immediate answer to the silence was that she was most likely outside watering our garden and picking any already ripe vegetables.

So I threw off my work clothes and bundled into a pair of comfortable pants and an unbuttoned shirt. I went into the kitchen to see two plates resting on the table. One was full of cold food and the other was almost entirely eaten.

I walked over to the front door and poked my head out to see where mother was. I saw her standing just a few feet away from the porch. That’s when I saw two men in shiny silver armor standing next to her.

I walked outside to greet the men and I noticed she was sobbing.

“Who are these people mama, and why are you crying?”

Without giving me an answer she threw her arms around me and began to cry even more than before.

“Mama, what’s wrong?”

One of the men in armor spoke up with a deep and serious voice.

“Son, follow us into your house. There are some matters that need to be discussed.”

I was speechless. I didn’t know what to say. My mom took me by the hand and led me and the other two men into the house, where we all sat down at the kitchen table after she cleaned it.

“Lukas, do you have any idea who your father was?”

“Umm…no sir, I do not. Mama told me he passed away when I was still a baby.”

The man looked over to mother and she started crying again, this time thankfully a little quieter than before. I hated seeing her cry; it pained me more than anything else.

“You father was Martin Septim, son of Uriel Septim. Do you know who any of those two men are?” The man asked with a sterner tone.

“No sir, I’ve never heard the names before,” I said sheepishly.

Again the man looked over to my mother, this time with sheer anger. I was almost afraid he was going to yell at her but he turned his attention back to me.

“Your father and grandfather were rulers of the Empire Lukas. Surely you’ve of the Empire, haven’t you?”

I nodded. Who didn’t know about the Empire? Even we, on this small island hundreds of miles from anyone else, know about them. But was this man serious about my father, and apparently my grandfather, once being rulers of the Empire?

“Martin and Uriel were both recently slain recently. Your grandfather was assassinated by the culprits and Martin sacrificed himself to save Cyrodiil. You, Lukas, are the heir to the throne.”

I was stunned beyond belief. Surely I was dreaming right? Perhaps I had fainted from the barn’s heat and I was imagining all of this? Surely I had to be, there’s just no way in the world any of this could really be happening.

“I’m sorry sir, but what are you talking about? I think you have the wrong person. I’ve lived here all my life and I highly doubt it’s possible that I would be related to any Imperial Kings.”

“Ah, but it is Lukas, what your mother has apparently forgotten to mention to you is that she was once a caretaker for the Chapel in the city that was once Kvatch. She happened to have a “small” mishap with Martin and that brought you into this world. Your mother fled the country and brought you here. And since you’re Martin’s only heir that makes you’re the rightful king of Cyrodiil.”

I looked over to my mother and she was able to nod her head slowly. I was the King of Cyrodiil? How could this be? I’m only fifteen years old!

“We’ll give you about an hour to get your stuff together and then we set sail for Cyrodiil where you will take your place at the throne, though it won’t be as glamorous as you might think. A war has just been won, but don’t worry, I’ll explain everything on the way.”

Things were happening so fast I didn’t know what to think. I was looking back and forth between the two men and my mother, then the next thing I knew I was toppling face first towards the table, and then everything went dark.

[The Metal Mallet]

And now things get a little messy, and crazy, and possibly dangerous. I'm eagerly anticipating how these problems will get looked after. Continue whenever you can.

This post has been edited by The Metal Mallet: Oct 14 2007, 03:55 AM