I walked through my splendid castle. Or rather father's castle, but it will be mine one day. When he passes away. I watch my guards practice the ancient tribal fighting skill which makes our men far more superior. It was unusual that father was making them practice more but as always he had a plan. I decided to go speak with him.
"Father" I announced when I presented myself at the throne "must I practice jujitsu as well?"
"Yes, but not yet son...you are to young to fight. Wait until the ceremony" my fathers word was law. Whatever he says goes.
I spun around as the messenger, Zesna ran in looking tired and scared.
"What is it, messenger?" my father roared leaning forward in his snake skin and parrot feather chair
"War, sire" Zesna gasped "the other tribes are conflicting"
"Already?" my father cried
"What do you mean already?" I asked my father curiously. His face grew crimson red as he pretended he never heard me
"Send out the soldiers to stop the fights spreading our way" the king ordered. With that Zesna ran away leaving me and my father alone
"Why is there war father?" I asked
"Never you mind son!" my father then stood up and left his throne room looking nervous and worried.