Countless years passed.
Lands, property and even people were conquered, lost and reconquered by different opponents.
Generations were born, fought and died.  The pains and pride of the parents transferred to the children and so it continued.
It would happen occasionally, that a child would be born to one of the four rulers, that did not understand or agree with the fighting.  However, if they attempted to seek out a peaceful solution, they would quickly meet an untimely demise; either at the hands of an enemy assassin, or those of their own people.

The world was on the brink of complete annihilation. 
The four rulers and their houses came together to attempt a parle at the request of the King of West.  His son was of the peaceful persuasion and had convinced his father to attempt to strike an accord.
The venue was to be set in the ruins of an ancient castle that resided at the Central Point, where the four kingdoms met.  It was owned by no kingdom and had been used as neutral meeting ground since the wars began.  The only time any person came within fifty miles of the ruins was when a brave ruler would try to heal the wounds that scarred the lands. 
Four broken wings stretched a short way into each kingdom.
If you were to stand at the pinnacle of the central tower, you would be able to lay your hand in snow whilst feeling the hottest sun on your face, pluck a blossom from the climbing vine and blow seedlings away on a fresh wind. 
The castle itself had little more than the foundations that had once supported it with a few arches and columns here or there, as well as the over-grown gardens that stretched out like roots into the realms.  The only place to have no clear borders between one kingdom and the next.
As each kingdoms rulers and courts arrived, tents and pavilions were erected in the appropriate parts of the ruins.  At the centre of the area lay the lower walls of a large chamber, most thought to have been used as a ball room or banquet hall.  Around this room were stationed guards.  Shoulder to shoulder they stood, there were so many.  All official communications took place within this circle of warriors, any unofficial communications between escorts and companions were strictly prohibited. 
This was the one rule that was quickly broken.
The servants hastily established a secret community for trade and information.  However, as far as their rulers were concerned, such things did not exist.
The son of West, Bernard, was hopeful for the parle.  He was convinced that his father could broker the start of a peaceful conversation.
A series of sit down talks were arranged, the first of which, only showed how little any of the Monarchs were willing to compromise or sacrifice for the sake of a treaty.  In attendance, were the rulers and their partners, one member of their council and their descendants. 
Each family had only one child.
West and North had sons, Bernard and Bud.  Bernard was distinguishable by his overly bushy beard, far too long for a teenager, whereas Bud was known by the scar that cut along his cheekbone, supposedly attained whilst chasing bandits through some woodlands one night.
East and South had daughters, Solaris and Pixie.  Solaris bore the Royal tribal tattoos of a sun and water, symbolizing the possession and need of her country, whilst Pixie had the pointed ears of a rare bloodline that existed throughout her homeland.
It was she, daughter of South and youngest of the four at the age of sixteen, that listened little.
What she saw were four old, bitter, power hungry dictators who had no intention of giving up their desire for the world.  She also saw a son who truly desired peace as well as two young people, who spent the entire session stealing glances of one other, whilst they thought that no one was looking.
Pixie had the purest heart of anybody, not just present at the meeting, but of the whole of the four kingdoms.  She did not hear what the arguments of their parents were, she did see an opportunity to forge new unions.