The two dynasties of Heartfillia and Dragneel had been at war for what seemed like forever. Both kingdoms had powerful forces, and they were evenly matched in battle. The war had gone on so long, in fact, that no one seemed to remember why they were fighting in the first place. But that never stopped them.
One dark, cloudless night, the fighting reached the capital of Lord Igneel Dragneel's kingdom. The members of the court ran this way and that, screaming piercingly as Lord Jude Heartfillia's men cut them down. Lord Igneel's men tried their best to keep them at bay, but there was little they could do.
The enemy soldiers were confident in their victory, until the king himself decided to join the fight. Their cheering died in their throats. Lord Igneel was a tremendous fighter, and not only did he have skill with the sword, his magic combined with this so that he could strike down twenty men at once, with both sword and fire in his hands. It was this power that had earned him the nickname 'The Dragon King'.
With a mighty roar worthy of his name, Lord Igneel drew his sword and charged the enemy. Soldiers ran screaming in terror, fleeing for their very lives. The battle was over within a quarter of an hour. The king stood panting, relieved that his city was safe, and more importantly, his son was unharmed…
A page ran up to him, face white as a sheet.
"My lord! My lord!"
"What's wrong? Has something happened?"
"It's your son, milord, Prince Natsu! He has been taken by the enemy!" Igneel's usually ruddy face turned pale. He dropped his sword with a clang. But it was not just the news that had struck him. A soldier, taken for dead, had, with the last of his strength, thrown a dagger at the king's back. Lord Igneel fell, still weeping for his eleven-year old son, whom he knew he would never see again.