The future king Walt

This story begins in the struggling nation of Beckelhem, a land once great but now weakened by poverty, illness, and corruption. Its current king is a greedy tyrant, caring little for the people and allowing the nation to fall into decay. But I, Walt Earfelt, am destined to become its king one day, though I don't know it yet. Right now, I’m just a 14-year-old boy trying to survive in a world where survival itself is a daily battle.

Let me take you back to how it all started. It’s a story that doesn’t begin in a royal palace but among the ruins and rubble of a desolate land. My older brother, Stephan, is my rock. He’s 17, only three years older than me, but he’s had to grow up fast—faster than anyone should. Both of our parents died a few years ago, victims of the sickness that ravages this land, and since then, Stephan has been the one looking out for me. He’s the closest thing I have to a father, and in many ways, he’s my hero.

We live in a place that’s hard to describe, a mixture of hope and despair, surrounded by the broken remains of what once was a prosperous kingdom. There’s grass and stone everywhere, and rubble from buildings long abandoned. This is home to around 12 other orphans like us, kids whose lives were also torn apart by disease and the harsh realities of living in Beckelhem. Here, if you get sick and you’re poor, there’s no help for you. The current king has made sure that only the rich can afford medicine, and the rest of us are left to fend for ourselves.

Most days, we make the best of it. We’ve built a small community among the ruins. There’s a certain freedom in having nothing to lose, and even though life is hard, we try to find joy in the little things. We make music with whatever we can find—pieces of trash, old cans, and broken tools. It’s not much, but it’s ours, and it helps us forget, even if only for a little while, how tough things really are.

One night, we were all hanging out, doing what we usually do—banging on makeshift drums and laughing. We must have been louder than usual because the village on the other side of the fence heard us. The village is about 100 feet away, close enough that we can see them but far enough that we don’t really interact. We didn’t think much of it at the time, just kids having fun, but apparently, our noise disturbed the wrong people.

What we didn’t know was that someone had put in a noise complaint to the royal guard. And in Beckelhem, when the royal guard gets involved, things tend to go bad quickly. Suddenly, there was a loud bang at the back of our place. It wasn’t our property, so technically, we couldn’t stop anyone from coming in, but the noise startled us. We froze for a second, and then, out of pure instinct, we ran.

Looking back, running was probably the worst thing we could have done. The guards shouted after us, their voices harsh and threatening: “If you run, I’ll consider you an enemy—king’s orders.” But we were scared, too scared to stop and think, and we didn’t fully understand what that meant. We thought they just wanted to scare us, to chase us off like we were rats scurrying out of the way.

But we were wrong.

The royal guards in Beckelhem don’t make idle threats. To them, an enemy of the king is to be dealt with swiftly and harshly, no questions asked. As soon as we started running, we sealed our fate. I could hear their footsteps pounding the ground behind us, getting closer and closer. My heart was racing, and all I could think about was finding a place to hide. Stephan was right beside me, his face tense, but he didn’t say a word. We both knew that stopping wasn’t an option anymore.

We darted through the narrow alleyways between the crumbling buildings, trying to lose them in the maze of rubble and debris. But the guards were relentless. They were faster, stronger, and better armed. I remember the fear coursing through my veins, the sound of my own breathing filling my ears, the distant shouts of the guards behind us. It felt like a nightmare, one where no matter how fast you run, the danger is always right behind you.

Finally, we reached the edge of our little makeshift home, the point where the ruins met the forest. We thought we could lose them in the trees, but as soon as we reached the clearing, Stephan suddenly stopped. I didn’t understand why at first, but then I saw it—a group of guards had circled around, cutting off our escape. We were trapped.

The leader of the guards stepped forward, his armor glinting in the moonlight. He was tall and imposing, his face hidden behind a helmet that made him look more like a machine than a man. “By order of the king, you are under arrest,” he said, his voice cold and emotionless. I felt my knees buckle beneath me. We had no chance against them. Stephan stood in front of me, trying to protect me, but I knew there was nothing he could do.

That night changed everything. The guards took Stephan and me away, separating us from the other orphans. I don’t know what happened to the others. They might have scattered, or they might have been caught too. But in that moment, all I could think about was my brother. He had always been the one to take care of me, and now, it seemed like even he couldn’t protect me from the harsh realities of the world.

We were taken to the capital, a place I had only heard about in stories. It was beautiful, in a cold and distant way, with towering walls and grand palaces. But behind the beauty, I could sense the rot—the corruption that had brought Beckelhem to its knees. The king, I knew, was the source of it all. His greed had drained the nation of its wealth, and his cruelty had left its people broken and hopeless.

As we stood before the royal court, I realized just how small and powerless I was. The king sat on his throne, a gaunt man with a twisted smile. He looked down at us like we were insects, unworthy of his attention. But there was something in his eyes, a flicker of recognition when he looked at me. I didn’t understand it at the time, but it was the first hint of what was to come.

“You,” the king said, pointing at me. “There’s something about you. What is your name, boy?”

I swallowed hard, my voice barely above a whisper. “Walt Earfelt.”

The king’s smile widened. “Earfelt? Now that’s a name I haven’t heard in a long time.”

I had no idea what he meant, but I could feel the weight of his gaze. There was something he knew, something about my past that I didn’t yet understand. And in that moment, I realized that my life was about to change in ways I could never have imagined.

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And so begins my journey—the journey of how I, Walt Earfelt, would one day become the king of Beckelhem. But at that moment, I was just a boy, scared and confused, with no idea of the destiny that awaited me. Little did I know, my path was already set, and the events of that night would shape not only my future but the future of the entire nation.