Where he came from, nobody knows. Prince Loki found him washed up on the shoreline near Akra over seventy years ago. It was clear he was not of the Five Lands– his skin was a silvery white, his hair flame red. At first the Tamrin Prince Royal thought him drowned. Loki brought him back to his friend’s castle. There he lay like a dead man for five days while the healers did their best to revive him. When he awoke he claimed to have no memory of his origins or what had happened to him, except that his was the blood of Kings. Loki took to him, including him among his age-companions. And the rest, well the rest is written in the history books.

That was a sad day for Tamra. One wonders what would have happened if Loki had decided not to ride along the sea shore that day or if he had missed seeing the figure washed up amongst the storm rack, covered in seaweed, sand and foam. It surely would have saved a lot of heartache and bloodshed. Perhaps the proud kingdoms of Mokka and Shanta would still stand. Perhaps the Nolmec invaders would have been repulsed and sent back across the northern seas. Who knows?

Though one thing is clear, I would not be here to reflect on it – for the blood of the Nolmec and that of Akrad himself mix uneasily with Tamra in my veins and those of my sister. Yet I cannot help wishing that the prince had not ridden out that day.

[Add sound of waves and sea gulls – when click on image of seaweed]