Grå
Doors creaked open as a figure, tall and slender, stood in the open passageway. His piercing green eyes stared blankly into the darkness of a once beautiful room. He stepped into the cold, damp room with an almost disgusted look on his face. He scanned the room and saw broken chairs, papers strewn about, curtains and tapestries torn to ribbons, it looked as though a fight had taken place and yet there was a weighing sadness in the air. The figure reached down and picked up a paper that caught his eye. It had no significance what so ever, but it was the handwriting that really drew him in. The careful strokes of each letter and the gentleness of it all brought his to smile. He was alone in his world, totally alone. That insolent brother and his wretched father cared not for him. The only one who did, doesn't care for him any more. He dropped the paper and just stared at the mess before him. His smile quickly faded and it was replaced by a toxic anger that just seemed to radiate off of him. He sighed and then began to head for the door. He pulled it shut as he exited his room that no one had dared enter since his departing oh so long ago. The rage the radiated off him was enough to change his once beautiful emerald green eyes into toxic green pools of enraged jealousy. "A welcome fit for a king." His words were sharp as he spoke to himself.
