The Legend of Mor'du

Come on, then! Let me guess.

You want to be smarter? Taller? Faster? Breathe underwater?

Able to fly?

Read minds?

Great strength.

Which reminds me.

The prince! Tell it! Tell it!

Aye! I'll tell you a tale,

but it's up to you whether you heed the words, or not.

Not far from here,

there was a prosperous, flourishing kingdom.

Ancient kingdom! Ancient!

Would you let me tell it?

It was ruled by a king whose wisdom was equaled by the love of his people.

The King had four sons,

each gifted in his own way.

The youngest was wise.

The third was compassionate.

The second son was just.

And the King's eldest son was strong,

but he mistook great strength for character.

One dark autumn, the King grew ill.

On his deathbed, he proclaimed the crown would not pass to the eldest,

but that he would divide the rule.

That the combined gifts of the brothers would make an even greater kingdom.

But the eldest son felt disgraced.

Believing that he alone should be the sole heir,

a seed of selfishness grew in him

like a poison.

To his brothers he declared his claim, and demanded their obedience,

shattering the bonds of their brotherhood.

Words turned to war.

Brother fought brother,

and the fate of this great kingdom was forever changed.

The prince commanded a powerful army,

but the battle remained a bitter stalemate.

Starving for a victory, the prince cursed his fate.

He stalked the woods,

coming to rest within an ancient ring of stones.

The will-o'-the-wisps appeared,

drawing him, guiding him,

to the edge of a dark loch

and a tiny cottage far from the shore.