Fantasy/Aphro/Locked to peacedrop
Once upon a time in a large Kingdom, there lived a boy with a big dream. He one day wished to become a knight in order to protect the King, Queen, their people, and their only child, Princess Euphemia. He remembered the first time he saw her as a little boy when he stood in the crowd during a speech given to them by their King. She had been standing off to the side behind him looking out--and Zack Fair, poor peasant boy that he was, had never seen a girl so beautiful.
The older they got the more beautiful she got, and he could never do anything but marvel at something he thought to be quite impossible, and that was of course her growing beauty. He thought of her often, trained hard and worked hard, and was incredibly helpful to the lower class people, of which he lived amongst all his life.
When he grew older (to the age of twenty-two) he had become a bit of a swordsman and actually carried a large sword on his back. He had taken all of his life savings and what his parents had left for him before passing and gone and bought this large, heavy weapon. He had trained with it and gotten used to its' weight; by now it was as much a part of him as any limb or hair upon his head.
His hair was long; it went a little past his shoulders and a spike for a bang hung over his forehead. He was tall and well built, though all one could see were how toned his arms were as he had managed to make it up to the middle class by now--no more Kingdom slums for him! Sighing softly, the young man steps out a bar he was privy to frequenting and gave himself a good stretch.
Now what was there to do...?
The older they got the more beautiful she got, and he could never do anything but marvel at something he thought to be quite impossible, and that was of course her growing beauty. He thought of her often, trained hard and worked hard, and was incredibly helpful to the lower class people, of which he lived amongst all his life.
When he grew older (to the age of twenty-two) he had become a bit of a swordsman and actually carried a large sword on his back. He had taken all of his life savings and what his parents had left for him before passing and gone and bought this large, heavy weapon. He had trained with it and gotten used to its' weight; by now it was as much a part of him as any limb or hair upon his head.
His hair was long; it went a little past his shoulders and a spike for a bang hung over his forehead. He was tall and well built, though all one could see were how toned his arms were as he had managed to make it up to the middle class by now--no more Kingdom slums for him! Sighing softly, the young man steps out a bar he was privy to frequenting and gave himself a good stretch.
Now what was there to do...?