Long ago, in a land far away, there stood a huge castle.  It was built from huge, pale grey stones, with large, stained-glass windows that let in light of gold, red and blue.  It stood on an island which sat at the meeting point of three great rivers. .
    The castle was known as Ise-Galer; which, in the old language, meant ‘house of the storm,’ and it was the home of the Milessi’s, the kingdom’s royal family.  The royal family was made up of the twin King, Brecht Milessi, the queen, Panini Milessi, and their three sons, Davian, Jonu and Jace, aged nine, seven and five, respectively.
    The royal family was well loved. The king was respected for his kindness, and the queen for her intelligence and wisdom.  As a twin, Brecht and his brother, Alderbrecht, had been expected to fight for the title of king. Many other kingdoms and empires had been waiting for a war, so that they could make money from selling weapons, or maybe even steal a bit of land from the kingdom of Milessia.
    However, something happened that surprised all these other empires and states and kingdoms.  Something happened that shocked them.  The one thing they had not expected or planned for, was the depth of love that the twin brothers had for each other.
    Instead of battle, the twins ruled the kingdom together for many years.  As the kingdom grew richer and more prosperous, other states and kingdoms grew poorer and more desperate.  Alderbrecht, the more warlike of the two, but still very kind, created a federation, an organisation that would protect weaker kingdoms from the bigger, greedier nations.
    One day, in the large throne room where the Milessi brothers would met with the people of the kingdom everyday, Alderbrecht turned to his brother.  They were seated on the special twin thrones that had been made by their mother, who had always known that her two boys would never fight each other for something so pathetic as mere power.
    ‘Brecht,’ he said, with his dark grey eyes sharp, and his heavy, black eyebrows knitted in a frown.
    ‘Yes brother?’ Brecht turned to his sibling with a smile, his dark golden eyes and slightly reddish eyebrows raised and a smile on his lips.  Of the two, Brecht was always the one to make jokes and take things less seriously.
    ‘Things must change,’ Alderbrecht said.  These three simple words changed the kingdom, and the world, forever.
    ‘I have seen many things through his federation. I have seen mighty warriors come from the lowest born families in all the nine kingdoms.  I have seen that great kings and queens become corrupt.  I have seen them become dangerous to the very people they are supposed to protect.’  Alderbrecht spoke quietly, powerfully.  His grey eyes almost glowing silver in passion.  
    The great hall became quiet.  His voice was low, but it filled the room.  People were silent, mesmerised by his words.
    ‘Most of all, I have seen that too much power in the hands of only a few people can lead to terrible consequences.’
    He spoke passionately to his brother.  He told Brecht of countries where little girls starved in front of palaces where huge, fat men ate the best meals, and blamed the poor for their plight.  
    He told Brecht of places where children worked down deep holes in the ground, or in wooden huts, from morning till night, sold into slavery by desperate parents to greedy business people.
    He told Brecht that the world was becoming a darker place, and that the two brothers were obligated to show the world some light.
    Brecht listened, his smile fading into concern.  When Alderbrecht finished speaking, Brecht grabbed his twin brother’s arm and whispered.  ‘What shall we do brother?  How do we fix this?’
    Alderbrecht finally smiled, and patted his brother’s bearded cheek.  ‘We change ourselves first.’
    Thus the kingdom of Milessia changed.  Within five years there was a congress, a meeting place of common people to discuss problems in the kingdom and present solutions.  The roles of the twin kings changed.  They now presided over the decisions that were made by the congress.  They no longer made laws.  These were made by the judges’ council.  The kings no longer ruled in the same way.
    One thing did not change, and Alderbrecht had been insistent on this. On issues of war and peace, the twin kings had the final say on any decision.  The kings were still in charge of the army.

    So the kingdom grew.  Just as Alderbrecht predicted, other countries began to copy Milessia’s system.  There were still those rulers that refused to share power, and punished their people for daring to even dream about freedom.  However, these rulers did so with increasing fear and worry.  For Milessia was now known as the kingdom of silver and gold.  Partly because of the wealth that came from intelligent people flocking to the kingdom with their ideas and inventions.  Partly because of the appearance of its rulers, the twin kings; one with eyes of gold, and the other with eyes of silver.

    ‘Things must change.’  These words became the motto of the new Kingdom.  No longer did old and pointless traditions hold sway.  Thanks to the Milessi brothers, new ideas poured through the farms, the shops, the sheds and the schools of the land.
    Everything changed, and that included the brothers.  Some changes are for the better, and some are not.  Alderbrecht grew restless.  With every story of a hungry child in a foreign country, or a foolish ruler bullying his people, his heart grew more and more troubled.
    Perhaps Brecht might have been the same, if not for the appearance of a young woman.
    One summer season, in the twenty-fifth year of the twins life, the Milessi brothers were attending a party thrown by one of their older relatives; their uncle.  A man who had not been too happy with some of the changes the brothers had made, and had taken every opportunity to tell them so.
    The brothers had arrived at their uncle’s grand house, set beside a lake stocked with fish and in front of a first famous for its juicy fruits and berries.
    As always, the brothers had tried to avoid spending too much time alone with their uncle, a large man with a great red beard and pale, fish-belly skin.  They loved him, but he tended to complain a lot.
    As always, their attempts to avoid their uncle failed, and the had to listen politely as the older man moaned about how much better things used to be when people knew their place.
    ‘I wonder if he will complain about the fishing law.’ Whispered Alderbrecht, during a rare break in their uncle’s ranting.
    ‘What fishing law?’ Brecht replied.
    ‘Whoops, sorry. Forgot to mention that.’  Alderbrecht smiled, and winked.  That wink make Brecht’s stomach drop. It was the cheeky wink that Alderbrecht gave whenever he had planned something that would annoy his twin brother.
    ‘And another thing,’ their uncle started saying.  ‘This new fishing law is ridiculous! My family has been the sole custodians and fishers of this lake since, well, since forever.  Brecht, you’re the law maker, aren’t you? Can’t you sort this nonsense out? I don’t want commoners sticking their poles into my lake!’
    Alderbrecht giggled. Brecht glared at his brother and sighed.
    ‘Well, uncle, I am the one in charge of supervising the laws, but the congress actually make the laws.’  Brecht began.  His uncle started to speak, but Brecht spoke over him quickly.  ‘However, dear uncle,’ and here, Brecht smiled at his twin, who suddenly looked nervous.  ‘Fishing comes under the same rules as hunting and war.  And my dear brother Alderbrecht is the one in charge of that.  Why don’t you speak to him about it? I’m sure he’d love to hear all of your thoughts about the new law.’
    Alderbrecht stared at his brother, unable to think of a way out of this trap.  His uncle swooped on him, linked arms, and marched him to a large window that overlooked the lake.
    Brecht chuckled to himself, and wandered around the great house, speaking to a few people and generally relaxing.
    After an hour, Brecht found himself being jabbed in the back with a wooden fork.
    ‘Thanks a lot,’ Alderbrecht groaned.  ‘That was the most boring hour of my life.’
    ‘Serves you right,’ Brecht responded.  ‘You started it.’
    The two started bickering as if they were young children again, and not the kings of a wealthy nation.
    It was then that the brothers spied a young woman with darkly curled, raven hair.  She was a servant, walking among the guests with a tray laden with delicate meats and spiced treats.
    In that room there had been many other women, all wearing expensive gowns and glittering baubles in their hair.  Yet the brothers only had eyes for this one young woman, whose simple trousers and white shirt could not disguise the natural intelligence, beauty and grace that she possessed.
    Almost at the same moment the brothers had turned to each other, to tell their twin about this woman.  Almost at the same time each one realised that, for the first time, he was in love, and that his twin brother, the closest and most important person in the world to him, was in love with the same woman.
    They stared into each other’s eyes for a long moment, the sound of their uncle’s whinging fading into the background, eyes of darkest gold locked onto eyes of darkest silver.
    Brecht opened his mouth to speak, but Alderbrecht shook his head.  He turned and walked out of the party, leaving Brecht alone with their uncle, who was now complaining about the rudeness of the younger generation.
    Brecht was torn between following his brother, and speaking to the young lady.  His decision was made for him when she appeared in front of him, her large, dark eyes fixed on his, waving a plate of food in front of his face.  He had asked her several questions, which she had answered carefully and respectfully, watching his uncle out of the corner of her eye.
    Brecht spoke to her for what felt like a few minutes, but when he looked up, he realised that most of the guests had left, except for a few annoyed looking young women who were glaring in obvious jealousy at the servant girl.
    ‘What is your name?’  He asked her.
    ‘Pannini,’ the servant answered.
    ‘Your surname?’ Brecht added.
    ‘I have none.  I am Panini,’ she replied.
    ‘Surely you must have a surname, your father must have had a name,’ Brecht had said, and then regretted it when he saw the combination of sadness and anger on her face.
    ‘I have no father, only a mother, who felt so shamed by my birth that she named me after the goddess of sorrow.  Now I am my own person.  Without mother, without father.  Just myself and my wits,’ it was the most she had said, and when she finished, there was a gasp from others in the room.  She looked around at the people who were standing there with shocked expressions, and she did not appear to be worried.
    ‘Your highness,’ she said, with great dignity.  ‘May I be excused?’
    ‘The kingdom is not what it once was, Panini.  There is no law that stops you from leaving.  No law that stops you from speaking your mind to anyone, be they king or beggar.’  He stepped back and bowed.  ‘My carriage will await outside, Panini.  I would like to discuss some matters of a personal nature with you.  If you are willing to listen - and listen is the only thing that I would request of you - please allow my driver to bring you to the castle.’  Without looking to see whether she was interested or not - he was afraid she might have that same, uncaring expression that had been turned on the rest of the nobles - he hurried outside.  He unhitched one of the team of four horses, and rode quickly to the castle.
    As his horse pounded over the drawbridge, Brecht felt a series of emotions that he did not know how to deal with.  The foremost was the fear that his brother would be angry with him.  Only just behind that was the fear that Panini would not take the carriage, and would never be interested in anything he had to say.
    Alderbrecht’s smile was the first thing he saw in the courtyard, under the flickering light of the torches.  His heart leapt in relief, and then sank as he took in the rest of the scene.
    Alderbrecht had his field mail on, boiled leather armour that protected from the stray arrows of bandits.  His horse was saddled for a long journey, with packs that no doubt contained dried food and other bits that were essential for surviving outside of the city gates.
    A contingent of his soldiers, ten hard men with scars and cold eyes stood to attention behind him.  Alderbrecht leaned on his horse and waited for his brother.
    Brecht jumped from his mount and approached carefully.
    ‘Brother?’ Brecht said.
    ‘Brother.’  Alderbrecht replied, moving from his relaxed position to grab his brother in a bear hug.  ‘Listen, he whispered into Brecht’s ear.  ‘Things must change.  They always do.  I knew this day would come, for either or both of us.  I never imagined it would be like this.  I saw her.  Her eyes, her beauty.  She is perfect.  And she is yours.  I am a warrior.  The federation needs me to be a fighter.  I cannot be both the fighter and the husband.  That is your role.  I have not spoken to her, so I pray the pain in my heart will not be as bitter as it could be.  Look after her.’  Alerbrecht stepped back and patted his brother’s shocked face. A crowd of servants was gathering, wondering what the commotion was so late in the evening.
    ‘I hereby renounce my crown,’ Alderbrecht shouted, his voice booming throughout the courtyard.  ‘A letter has been penned and will be delivered to congress by morning.  I am but a prince, and a servant to the warrior reagent, King Brecht.  Long live the king!’
    There was a muted response.  Alderbrecht smiled sadly.  ‘I’m sure they’ll be more enthusiastic in the morning,’ he said.
    ‘Why are you doing this?’ Brecht hissed.  ‘Why are you leaving me?  I need you.’
    Alderbrecht shook his head.  ‘No, you don’t.  This will be good for you.  Trust me,’ he gave one last, sad smile, and leapt onto his horse.  His silver eyes did not meet the tear-stained golden gaze of his twin brother.  He and his men thundered over the drawbridge, and disappeared into the twinkling lights of Ise-Sale, the lower city.
    Brecht managed to blink his tears away, and turned to walk slowly towards his apartments in the castle.  A sound of wheels rolling over drawbridge made him turn around, his confusion and hope making him think that his brother was returning.
    Then he remembered that his brother had ridden out with no wagon.  He saw his own carriage roll up, and a young servant woman with dark wavy hair stepped out.  He looked at her.  She looked at him, a concerned frown on her face.
    He would never be able to say why he did what he did.  He did not know how she would react.  Still, he burst into tears and collapsed into her arms.  This small, servant woman held the large king in her arms, and comforted him as troubled-looking servants tip-toed around them in the ever deepening darkness of the night.