Lord Raven stood atop his tower and looked down on the city. He could trace his lineage back a long way. His office building was a castle of steel and glass, but his ancestors had reigned from towers of stone.
He reflected that his role was not so different from his forebears, although he preferred the term Magnate to Warlord. The city certainly smelled better these days.
He gave himself a moment to imagine his descendants standing on taller towers, presiding over grander cities. He never considered that somewhere in the labyrinth below was a boy who would be king.

Thanks for reading! You can support me and find links to all my other work via my Linktree!

Advertisement