Chapter 15: 1:

The kingdom of Valencia, one of the five great nations on the Nevarian continent . Having most of the continent’s major trading route across its land, it has amassed an over-flowing amount of  for its people.

In the past Valencia has had its own shares of wars, but always seems to get away usually unscathed or better of than where it started. The country soon acquired the  nickname The Lucky Isles due to its good fortune.

However as the years passed the name "The Lucky Isles" remained but the reason for why it was called that became "lost" and by lost I mean sealed away in books which no one bored to read.

It didn’t take long for rumours to spread about Valencia and about the life of luxury that every citizen could afford for themselves and in time people began to convince themselves that Valencia was called the Lucky Isles because the Land was blessed with otherworldly luck some believe the land was blessed by the gods themselves others had just as wild theories.

But they all could agree on one thing, that whoever resided in Valencia would gain immeasurable favour in all their endeavours and riches beyond

This altered version of history made several people from around the world to be convinced that their lives would be better off if they could just get unto Valencia soil and so it began.

First the borders started becoming overwhelmed and the application process began to tarry, then slowly paranoia that Valencia didn't want to share their luck with others set in. People started trying to cross into the country illegally going around the border.

Those that were caught were publically punished for their crimes to deter others from doing so but it only fuelled the paranoia.

Then it happened, The paranoia reached all time high, people stopped caring about the law or consequences and even gave up on reason. No one could have predicted what would happen next within a week, they broke through the borders and within a month, the outsiders were pillaging the streets as they made their way towards the capital.

"The Invasion" that's what the historians called it and that’s what people will remember it by, but the name does nothing to describe the horror that befall Valencia, there was blood on the streets, Screams of terror and agony filled the air, flames roared to the skies, mayhem and destruction covered the entire kingdom, no where was spared as the outsiders pillaged and looted everything in sight. It was one of the worst times to be in Valencia at the time for a resident anyway.

There's a saying that goes "opportunity strikes but once". Without proper documents getting past the Valencia border would have been impossible for a young orphan such as myself luckily for better or for worse there was no border to stop me during the Invasion. I snuck in quite easily after the initial horde of outsiders broke through the borders and while the remaining frenzied outsiders hurdled towards the capital where they were eventually cornered and slaughtered, I headed towards the slums, the one place where hungry mongrels would avoid removing all suspicions that would have been placed on me.

It's been five years since then, Five years since I incorporated myself into the kingdom as a citizen or in all modesty a decent resident. I'm not so narcissistic or self entitled to believe that I'm so special that I am the only one to escape the fate that awaited the "invaders" but I figured the reason why I haven't heard of any other survivors is the same reason why no one else knows that I'm an invader, if anyone else knew then everyone who mattered would know and then its game over.

Why would I risk my life on such a risky gamble? Did I really believe in the lore of the "Lucky Isles" like the other mongrels? Well no, I knew the facts but there is always some truth to rumours aren't there? The Kingdom of Valencia had something I wanted, My object of desire resided deep within the Pagoda palace in the capital of Valencia, The throne.

 

I had always wanted to visit the Pagoda palace, The palace itself can covers over 178 acres of land it's essentially a city itself and surrounded by numerous beautiful gardens. Fantasizing about walking down the palace's courtyard observing the beautiful gardens dressed in the regalia of the Valencian royal family, wearing the crown and have a procession behind  had become a re-occurring dream of and a favourite pass time of mine, everything I have done for the past five years has to have this dream of mine fulfilled.

However, for all the times that I fantasized about walking down the palace's courtyard and entering the royal chambers with a royal procession following, I never once imagined it like this.

Feet and Hands bound in metal chains, surrounded by the palace's guardsmen and chief warrior guarding the rear, with scowls and visible signs of disgust being hurled my way by the palace staff and maidens it was definitely not the way I had imagined my royal procession.

Nevertheless a dream is a dream, a procession is a procession and a goal is a goal achieving them is all that matters really, even if the royal procession is for your own execution.

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