The Frenalose Galaxy Collection - The Crown of Crime
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It simply won’t cease. The haunted man runs and thrashes around and claws at his self. His nightmare refuses to release him. His sleep won’t end. He can’t find the peace that his body needs to continue its survival. His body runs awkwardly, and he struggles as if he’s on the bottom of a murky, viscous lake. He clearly watches the haunting scene unfold around him. His old, lifeless friend sits behind him. He must run faster. A sound echoes from behind him. It is the fall of a corpse onto its side and the knock of an old crown onto the ground. Just as the man abandons all hope, and accepts the death that surrounds him, his vision simply yields, and his consciousness floods into him abruptly. He wakes, yet he can’t completely abandon what he’s seen and where he’s been. His legs and feet continue to jerk and shift as if he’s attempting to utilize them. He claws at the naked side of his waist. "My sword," he mutters strangely. "Why can’t I draw my sword?" His dripping body slowly begins to understand its state. His heart is racing and his lungs burn as his hyperventilation can’t fulfill his body’s need for air. "Meekil," a drowsy, feminine voice states from beside him. "You’re simply having a bad dream." The sounds of feverish breathing continue to permeate the area as the light of a new dawn casts a small beam of light through the window into the room. "Meekil?" the woman utters as she sits up and places a hand on the tense, pulsating back. "The crown of crime shall fall," he states absently through some labored breaths. He glances at his roommate as he says, "I can’t calm myself down." He struggles to regain control of his strained self. His eyes are wide and threatening to leap from their sockets. The room rests in tranquil opposition. "I was there, Chel. It wasn’t a dream. It was a vision. I was watching something terrible happen. It was right at dawn. I could see the light of day trekking over the land as I heard the crown strike the ground. I believe the king of the City of Crime has died, and I wasn’t able to fulfill my obligation to him." "I told you in the beginning that your commitment was foolhardy. Though you’re a prophet, you can’t expect yourself to be able to foresee everything, and you don’t owe that man anything." "Why was I able to watch it while it was happening?" "You said that you could see dawn in your vision, right?" "Yes. It was at the first light of day." "Well, then you weren’t watching as it happened." "Yes, I was. Look at the light coming into the room. The day has just begun." "You’re forgetting that the City of Crime is far to the east. Their day started a while ago. You were watching something that happened a couple hours ago." "No," the prophet states as he thumbs his long blonde bangs away from his eyes, "I’m sure that I wasn’t watching something that had already occurred. Perhaps it was prophecy. Maybe I saw what will happen at the beginning of tomorrow." He reaches over to the nightstand. His hand crawls past the pot of purple flowers and grips a small tome beyond it. He opens the dark-brown cover and draws a quill pen from its station within a tomato. He extracts a vial of ink from the drawer and uncorks it, and he quotes the prophecy before he writes it down. "The crown of crime shall fall as kin performs regicide before the time of dawn. The crown of crime shall pass to another as the destiny of an innocent disturbs a kingdom." The ink falls upon the blank paper and gives birth to words. He blows on the words before he seals the ink vial and returns it to its drawer and sets the open book on the small table beside him. "I saw the aged king dead," Meekil states emotionally. "I had to run somewhere, but I didn’t know why, and my body wouldn’t move per my commands. It felt like the friction of the wind was terribly amplified, and I could hardly fight my way past it." He unknowingly scratches at the side of his naked waist, which is red and irritated, as he describes how he knew that he’d probably need to ready his sword, but he couldn’t draw it from its sheath. "I fear that if you hadn’t woken up when you did," Chel sobs, "you may’ve had a respiratory attack. You need to rest up, eat, and clean yourself and then go for some blood-letting." "There’s no time to waste. I have to send a messenger to the City of Crime first. I may yet repay my debt to King Gabel." "What do you mean?" "I’m going to let him know that this is his final day, and he needs to enjoy it to its fullest." "Are you sure that’s a good idea?" Chel asks. "Regardless of whether it’s a good idea or not, it’s what I’m doing."
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About the Book
“The crown of crime shall fall as kin performs regicide before the time of dawn. The crown of crime shall pass to another as the destiny of an innocent disturbs a kingdom.” -Meekil A prophecy foretells of an unfortunate incident that will affect an entire kingdom. An innocent is tragically destined for a guilty cataclysm. The Crown of Crime is able to stand apart from all other stories, yet its characters are prevalent in the other books of The Frenalose Galaxy Collection. It conjures adult themes, yet it’s as suitable for children as a common children’s rhyme. It is a simple, sinister story and a complex, intriguing tale. The lessons that it contains are timeless and extensive and powerful.
About the Author
Michael believes that all of us have a complex, detailed story within us that develops from an early age. His creativity effortlessly guides his readers in an escape from reality while including knowledge and lessons that are relevant to the real world. He has allowed his imagination to flourish and create a captivating location with enamoring, believable characters with entrancing tales. Michael Peterson splendidly alters, adds to, and reinvents the ideas, characters, and face of fantasy.