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[here-is-a-story]

The Road Ahead (finale to the Prince and the Physician)

Once the Physician could kneels by the Prince and hold onto him, he did the first thing that sprang into his head. He held him tightly against his chest and hummed a familiar tune, a song famously sung by the Queen before her passing. Not many people knew of her talents or her past, but she grew up as a simple maid, working around the castle wherever needed, and eventually captured the King’s attention with her beauty. Everyday as she’d tend to her chores she could be heard with a tune, as if music just came from her core, and when she came with child, she would sing to him every moment she could. The moments before her passing at childbirth, she would sing the Prince her song, with a simple, “Remember our songs my dear boy. They will hold you key.” 

The Physician himself was only a babe when the Queen passed, but even he could see the impact her music had on the castle staff. Even around the castle with the silence, it was like everything went dull. When they were older and after a day of training the Prince showed the Physician a treasure he’d found. His mother’s songbook with that same note to him. “Remember our songs.” 

He picked the first song he could thing of, and hummed the melody, and with time, the Prince came to relax. But even after he’d relaxed the Prince was no where near being good enough to move. So he sat and waited, holding his Prince. 

“My legacy means nothing anymore. This kingdom, this crown, all of it lays on bloodshed of beings who deserved better.” The Prince whispered when he regain his composure. His voice was fragile and airy, as if a ghost had sat in his lap rather than a man. “How am I meant to rule a kingdom and be a proud leader when everything we are is lies.” 

The Physician looked down at the Prince and couldn’t speak. A display of magic so wild and terrifying, an inner storm and all he could think to say was, “We need to be moving, we’ll need a good enough story before the High Council comes for...whatever those things were.” 

The Prince let out a dry laugh and looked up at the Physician, and behind those eyes was no man he’d ever known before. He was a shell of the man he knew, someone who was broken and suffered in pain, as if centuries of torment had filled his being. His face was covered in scratches, probably from going through the glass windows and being dropped into the cave. He stood and carried the Prince at his side, and slowly they walked into the sunlight. The 

The Prince hesitated at the entrance, looking around and holding onto himself. He knew what he had done in a moment of anger, of pain. Magic was forbidden in this kingdom, and there was no one to help him. He was a stranger in his own skin, and deep inside himself he could feel the change of his core. He teared up and stepped back into the cave, a cold front quickly starting to take over the surrounding area. So the Physician moved quickly and pulled the boy into the sunlight, and hummed him the song again. He looked the Prince in the eyes, and after a moment he joined in. Together they went through that melody, the Prince singing the words from memory, and eventually the cold faded away. A warmth came forth instead and a gentle breeze came through the village. The Prince, with his eyes closed, continued the song, and in a moment of beauty, wildflowers swept through the air, swirling around them both. He opened his eyes and let out a soft smile, looking around him and feeling that power in him respond to his words. 

Our Songs. It had all made sense now. Had his mother known what future lay ahead for her son. She left a songbook behind, but what if it was so much more. In a memory the Prince remembers wanting a music lesson, wanting to remember his mother in more than an old painting and stories. He was given the songs of their kingdom, of the wars and victories they conquered but his father forced him out of them after one lesson.

He was forced out of this recollection by shouting and the thunder of footsteps, for coming their way was a mob. They brandished weapons, swords and daggers, torches and pitchforks and they seemed angry. He could hear them from his spot, but then could feel something deeper. He could sense sadness and anger, then he heard them. 

“Where are the foul beasts!?” Oh no. They were looking for him.

He grabbed onto the Physician ready to run, not many people this far from the square and kingdom knew the Prince’s face, and he didn’t exactly look dressed for the part. But when he went to run, he was met with resistance. He looked to the Physician, ready to make a protest, and could only see his face with an unknown expression. He then was grabbed and held tightly, being shoved toward the crowd.

“Witch! We have a Practitioner in our midst and he must be eliminated!” shouted the Physician. 

The Prince’s heart went cold and he froze. No. No this couldn’t be. No we were taught stories of the evil of magic and witches but no, that’s not me. The Prince tried to speak but his throat just closed up as the crowd got closer and this betrayal held on. For while they had loved each other, known each other better than anyone, they’d been taught their morals. Magic was evil, it’s wielders were only worse. Corrupted by the forces that posses them, nothing but devils waiting to destroy the kingdom and create chaos in their wake. And that was all the Prince had done. Without even thinking it he’d killed a King and countless of the best warriors of the kingdom. Warriors who dedicated their lives to him. 

In that moment all they could do was stare at each other. The Prince, heartbroken and betrayed. The only person he could trust having decided he would be better dead than a witch. And the Physician, with tears in his eyes, of hatred and anger, of fear and worry. All the Prince could do was stare, but he refused to fall apart, not again. 

Remember our songs. But this was not his mother. From his core came something more, an echo of an ancient chorus. In this moment it was like he understood. People who had a connection with something greater, persecuted because of that. Inside of him was a history of tragedy and betrayal, treachery from humans who were scared of what they didn’t understand.

How right they’d be.

The Prince ripped himself out of the Physicians arms and turned toward the hoard that gathered a foot away and he opened his mouth. And in that moment it was like a door was opened. Within his mind was generations of ancient texts and knowledge, but none of it made sense to him. He was never much of a studier but instinct was best, and so he let out a cry. Of pain. Anger. Vengeance.

And at his call, the world responded. The earth beneath their feet rumbled and the winds picked up. What was a gentle breeze was suddenly a gale storm, and the rumbled soon erupted into just a nonstop quake. The Prince continued his cry and from within him came the cold again. The mob never stood a chance for what came next. The cold came at such force the villagers were frozen to the ground, crying out in pain at both shock, and feeling their legs break once they stopped but the ground didn't. Then came the monstrous hoard. Only now they came with true purpose. None of the villagers had even a moment to shout as they were torn to bits, their blood bathing the earth. His cry died down as he turned to look at the man he once loved, and laughed. He soiled his trousers. The Prince could feel nothing anymore as he looked at his Physician, the man who showed him love, who he opened himself up to, who he cherished more than anything. The man who was so ready to turn him over to a crowd ready to tear him to bits. He stepped forward and held onto his face, grabbing him by the chin and staring into his eyes.

That was his favorite thing about the Physician. How his eyes were a dazzling mix of sea green. When the sun would hit them at just the right angle they’d become just like the ocean, and after long nights together he would just stare and get lost in them. And in this sunlight here he was again. Lost in those sea green eyes. He opened his eyes and just let a tune ring out from him and he held onto the Physician. He held on as his eyes widened and he held onto his own throat gasping for air. He held on as water came from his lungs, falling and soaking them both. He held on as his eyes begged and pleaded for him to stop, as the fear consumed him. He held on until the love of his life went limp, and only then did he let go. He turned his back on the scene in front of him and stared at the forest surrounding them. Further ahead would be another village. Beyond that was his kingdom. He closed his eyes and felt the warmth of the sun and the creatures retreated within him once again, and he walked. 

I will never forget our songs. And soon enough, neither will they. 

[here-is-a-story]

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you simply, without problems or pride: I love you in this way because I do not know any other way of loving but this, in which there is no I or you, so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand, so intimate that when I fall asleep your eyes close.

— Pablo Neruda, Twenty Love Poems and Song of Despair

[here-is-a-story]

It’s Rewind Time

Let us go back for a moment, before our Prince and Physician were born, generations before their kingdom was forged. You see s mentioned before the land beneath this kingdom, was a nexus. This meant that this place held a powerful connection to nature, to energy, to the universe. To those who understood these things, they could do magnificent things. Being capable of creation, of healing, they had an innovation unlike anything ever seen before. However in these tales we always have conflict. While a normal nexus offered a boost in power, giving life to many magical species, this one was something unlike any other. Some say this nexus isn’t just a connection to the Other world, but is a door itself. Knowing what would happen if the wrong people got in (or out) a barrier was put up to make sure no one could find it. But people always find a way. Certain humans heard rumors of the power in this land, heard of what could come through, so they invented tales. They believed if they could take this place, they’d become something beyond natures laws, possibly beyond the scales of the gods and spirits. The funny thing is no one ever eyes the signs, they always want to see the good in others. The beings who held the land opened their barriers to strangers seeking refuge. The forest held its dangers, and they had no problem offering their protection. But their kindness was quickly met with betrayal. The cycle of civilizations. To offer peace and willingness to create a better world, to be broken by those who are driven by greed. They were forced to open their barriers, to change their magic ad twist it, and a sole man declared himself king. Using methods indescribable, deep beneath the earth, under the dungeons, they were locked away for their power. Eventually many of them chose death over serving a cruel man. Only one woman remained at the end. She was looked to as a leader, but even she couldn’t handle the constant abuse and strain that was forced on her and her magic. On her last day she made a decree.

Let the king and his people enjoy their time while they have it because they will soon have nothing left. A day will come when a child is born at the dawning of a new age. An age where magic would come to their world, to give birth to her kind once again, but be fearful because with the humans and their twisted ways, it could be the key to their conquest, or their downfall.

The stars were never studied in depth a century later during the birth of the Prince. If they were, then maybe it would’ve been noticed the Harmonic Convergence taking place. Universal and planetary energies aligned, at the exact moment the Prince took his first breathe. Only those outside the kingdoms walls and protections could feel what had taken place. The queen passed due to the power from her son. His first act of life was taking another, and his father feared for his son. He didn’t believe in such superstitions but what if they held truth. At that moment the king rounded his servants and demanded any and all evidence of magic existing to be locked away and sealed in the castle. The last bit of magic felt from this kingdom was when a charm was used to bind the doors shut, keeping anyone locked out forever. Beyond the doors that the Prince would stare at as a child, sat power. A power that sat inside of him, never knowing what he could do. And with that was locked their history. A history was built on lies and treachery and bloodshed of the innocents. Now sat a child at it’s center. This brings us to the day of the Kings death.

You see the King, however suspicious was not stupid. He would make trips beyond his kingdom, visiting elders in the forest or any creature, to determine if his child was the one, and where his path lay. He raised a loyal boy dedicated to his kingdom, but something was off about his son. While he had gone on his journey, the Prince made his way to examine the doors, feeling that humming in his bones. All he wanted was to see beyond the door, to know what was so scary about these artifacts of history. He believed that the Natives of this land peacefully let the humans in and then took their leave to continue being nomads. And here’s a quick lesson. A dam is built to only hold so much water. And time does quite a thing to a dam that is never checked upon. The Prince was both dam and water, power building inside him his entire life, but never being tapped into, never used. He knew that he was a persuasive man, but sometimes he wondered. As he stood at the door he just wondered. With a desire he heard a deep moan and click come from the doors. He reached forward and for the first time in his life, the doors opened. And for the first time he saw what his legacy was. He saw what was left behind of these so called nomads. He saw weapons and blood, he could feel the anguish and pain that sat in the air. It was like it swallowed him and. He fell out of the room and ran for the throne room. He stumbled upon his father and ordered the guards to leave. The King had returned, a nymph having felt the energy within the kingdom change. It was here the Prince heard of a prophecy. Here he learned that he was solely a weapon in the game among men. Where in truth, he was a monster just waiting to be discovered. When the Prince tried to protest, threatening to leave, the King made his mistake.

He told his son that if he dared leave his Physician would pay the price. He knew what they were doing and what they were. To the King this was just a new layer to the game. However he was checked in his last move. The Prince held checkmate. Blinded by rage, edged on by his father, and his pain inside him, the dam finally broke. And edged on by the nexus beneath him, his power came to life. From him came beings unseen, monsters of nightmares and hellish worlds. This Prince was not just a magical man, he was a Nexus being himself, calling forth ancient power from this world and the Other. The King saw his mistake firsthand and paid the price. The thing about being not human is that time means nothing, but pain means something. And these creatures were angry for what these humans had done. But after watching his father collapse the Prince regained some composure, and with the dam now gone, he only knew instinct and fled. The shadows and creatures carried him away, and in the cave they sat.

And here they were. Protection the Prince who could give them life, and give them this world again. They followed him ad his instinct, but in that moment all he knew was pain. When the kings guard showed to save him, they were a reminder of the corruption of his kingdom, of his father, of what they created. Everyone else who followed, who was foolish enough to take on these creatures was a threat to the Prince, so they dealt with the rest. When the Physician arrived, it was the first time they detected something kind, something that resonated with the Prince, and he was allowed to pass.

[here-is-a-story]

I’m sorry...

The young man stood at the edge of the cave, and just from where he stood he knew something dark sat in this cave with the Prince. Unlike many of the people who took on this task, he didn’t just charge in sword raised and battle cry ready. Instead he waited, watching and listening, waiting and thinking like he had been trained to do with medicine. He closed his eyes and listened. It was almost like the dark force was all that was hear, no wind blew, no birds dare sing, just his breathe, and the echo of some growl and whispers from the cave. He held a dagger close to himself, his knuckles turning white, but he just held up his shield, and took a step forward. As he kept walking, he could just feel how absurd this all was, he was no knight no warrior, not even a brawler. He was a physician. He didn’t fight battles and end life, he nurtured the broken and gave life back to them. It was in his nature to fix things, always following the call of his kingdom. But this was a fight he had to dive into.

You see our little Prince and the young Court Physician were raised together. The young physician needed to learn sooner rather than later how to treat the wounds of battle, how to spot what was fixable and what was lethal. The young Prince had a kingdom on his shoulders, and knowing this had seen far more gore than many children ever would. It was in this space that they would meet. While the king was being treated, a grave injury from which he recovered, the Physician held onto the Prince, telling him of how his father was the best in the Kingdom, possibly the whole world. The royal family wouldn’t admit it but they’d basically been in debt to the healers. While out exploring the castle grounds the Prince noticed a group of bullies taking on the young Physician, stoning him for being weak, knowing he could never fight. The Prince, feeling as though it were his duty, walked up brandishing a dagger, warning the boys that if they dare come for the healer again, they would face the wrath of his dagger. It was unknowingly an empty threat, the boy had barely begun his training, but not wanting to risk it, they ran. From that day forward the two boys were bonded for life. The Prince would either bring the Physician everywhere, or he would sneak out of the castle to play games with the boy. When they ran through the fields and did simple work such as picking herbs or making salves, it created a peace in him he never knew before. For the Physician he could do nothing but smile at his friend in those moments. In these moments he wasn’t the brave fearless prince with a kingdom on his shoulders. Just another boy much like himself. And the Prince was glad for that, to breathe freely and know the peace of simple life. On other days the Prince would drag the Physician to the stables and training grounds. He tried to teach him the ways of the sword, and though he learned a skill or two the Physician was never comfortable. He instead grew better at wielding a shield, to protect and guard would be better in his eyes. Though playfully annoyed, the Prince obliged, and together they would practice. Back and forth blows would go, sword on shield, until they flowed like a singular unit. For years these routines went on.

But that wasn’t the only thing to change. They had spent years together, almost a decade together before they realized what had been growing. One would glance at the other for a second too long after training sessions. After the Prince would begin fighting real battles and returning to his Physician, he’d longingly smile and make jokes while being chastised for being injured. There would be those touches that lasted too long to simply be a check-up, but worked more as a grounding presence. A way to say “I am here, you are here, and we are alive.”

They would spend many nights on horseback running to a small field they located, creating a space for themselves. It was in this shared space, where one wasn’t a Prince, the other wasn’t a Physician, that they shared a kiss. It was in this space that they then shared many nights together, watching the sunrise wrapped in one other, where the Prince handed over a dagger. It was special made, embedded were jewels and runes. It was to protect the Physician should he ever need it.

“If the time comes where I fall in battle, or I cannot protect you, wield this and show them how much more to you there is. Show them that fire that I’ve seen burn inside you. For you are my heart, and without you there’s no telling what I would become.” That was the last thing the Prince had told him before he had been taken. So now he wielded this dagger into the darkness, ready to show these shadows what happens when you messed with his Prince. He walked and walked until he could no longer feel the sunlight on his back. He took a flint and lit his torch and at that moment, they descended. He could hear the low growl and moans of these creatures around him, and as he raised his torch he saw what he believed to be a face. It moved quickly enough to extinguish the flame, and soon he was plunged into darkness. He held the dagger tightly, legs and hands shaking. He should turn around and run for it, let himself live another day. But no. He had to save the man he loved. He needed to say it once. He knelt down and while holding his shield above him, attempted to light his torch again. After no luck he dropped the shield and then at the first spark of light, grabbed the shield and held it up. He felt something slam him into the cave wall as it collided with his shield and he dropped the torch. He screamed at the air and lifted his dagger ready to strike, when suddenly the room ent quiet. The Physician opened his eyes, to a monster in front of him going still. It didn’t stare at him no, rather it looked at the dagger. He let out a breathe he didn’t know he held and saw his own breathe in the air. He slowly moved the dagger and it’s like the creature followed it, as if it never had seen a blade before. He pushed the dagger toward the creature and it receded, choosing to step away and look at the man behind the dagger rather than attack. With some unknown bravado the Physician kept his back to the wall and walked deeper into the cave. How curious.

But only more and more curious would the cave become. The roaring and moaning he heard outside was non-existent once inside. Instead it was like, they were crying? He stepped over armor and bones, terrified beyond belief but confused more than ever. More and more monsters would rush from the darkness at the sight of his torch, but in seeing his blade would wail and cry, choosing to float in place rather than attack. He’d walked for who knows how long until he could hear it. Crying. Human crying. He turned his head, and lifted the torch to a solid wall of darkness. But he just knew on the other side of this was his Prince. His lover. He had to make it through. So in one hand he held his dagger, the other his shield was strapped to his arm and the torch high he ran in. The wall, despite looking solid, melted around him, and it felt like he dove right into ice water. All at once he was hit by pain, by grief and sorrow. He could do nothing as he felt this all run through him, loosing himself in this anguish, pure agony rushing him. But then all at once it was gone, and as he opened his eyes there he was. My Price. But it couldn’t be. These monsters weren’t holding him here. He looked around and saw no evil witch, no demons, no cages or chains. It was simply the Prince on the ground. Surrounding him were the shadows. No, they didn’t surround him. They poured from him. There was no monster, it was the Prince himself.

[here-is-a-story]

To Find A Lost Prince

Weeks had passed and the kingdom was on the verge of collapsing to those who watched close enough. The council put on their best brave faces and acted as best as they could, but even they couldn’t silence the whispers of the villagers outside the kingdoms gates. People who were previously given protections due to their king, now faced the full wrath of the forces against them. Many unfortunately were slaughtered that first week.

However after two weeks had passed, the Prince had been located. Travelers looking for refuge stumbled upon a cave, where his cries and screams echoed off the walls from the darkness. The brave souls attempted to push forward for assistance, but were soon met with great beasts made of shadow, like the ones rumored to have killed the King. They quickly turned back, and alerted the council of this location. The eldest member of the council, the leader of the Kings guard made his way to the cave to verify these claims. The boy was like a son to him, having never grown a family of his own. As he neared the cave all he could hear was the screams of anguish. He called out for the Prince but was met with a roar of some unknown beast. Witchcraft. Sorcery. It had to be. After the king outlawed the practice of the Craft from his kingdoms, many practitioners took issue. You see the Kingdom itself sat at the center of what many would call a nexus. Underneath the land sat untapped magical potential, boundless magic that kept their kingdoms protected since its foundation. Many attempted to take down the kingdom, wanting to claim that power for themselves, to strike down the mortals who would dare ban them from what belonged to everyone. But then there were those who paid the price. Simple practitioners, who had just wanted to help the people. Healers and guardians would walk around the square offering their help to those who needed it, and occasionally pulling off antics to play around with the guards and wildlife. After some unknown incident, an old king had outlawed magic, and to this day the kingdom hasn’t felt it since.

As the Council gathered around after the Prince was located, they began to think. Was this a rogue practitioner? An angry witch? A vengeful spirit that returned from beyond? Something far more sinister from a place of unknown horror? No one knew what to do except take their arms, and take the Prince back themselves. A dozen of the best fighters in the kingdom had been recruited. The villager who found the prince was paid handsomely, and those who took arms would be rewarded even more. They’d gone with whatever knowledge they’d had on magic and demon work. Men adorned themselves with silver and iron weapons, wore their armor and chainmail, hidden beneath necklaces and charms branded with protection symbols and strength boosters.

None of them would return.

A month would pass before progress was wait. Countless warriors, men and women, anyone who would dare take arms were slayed. Until one day a young man stepped forward and offered his sword. A son of court physician, never trained in the battle field, his only talents being to heal the injured; to heal life not to take it away. But he was raised alongside the Prince. Due to how often the King would needed medical aid after battles, the two boys grew up together, the Prince learning basic aid while the Physician took up a shield rather than a sword, looking to defend and protect rather than attack. Many thought he was made, his own father pleaded with the boy to not go, knowing deep within his son would face the same end as all the others had. But he refused. He would find a way to save his friend. And that is how he ended up where he was, at the entrance of the cave.

[here-is-a-story]

A Prince in Crisis

Our Prince grew with time, and though he learned to control his urges, he never stopped wondering about what was behind those doors. As time went on, the king had to prepare the Prince for when he would retire, and the kingdom would be passed down to him. His father would tell him of the stories of the evil in the forests and that would lurk beyond the castle walls. He’d hear about the evil that the fairies were capable of, how grotesque the ogres were and how easily a  witch would kill him without a thought or second glance. It was during one of these sessions that the bells rang out an alarm throughout the kingdom. The kings guard ran from their posts towards the throne room, and couldn’t believe their eyes. The king lay across the floor. In pieces. Hundreds of pieces. The hall was decorated in his entrails, his legs lay at the entrance to the room, his torso at the foot of the throne, his head was impaled on a chandelier, and his intestines were dropped on the curtains. But as they gathered themselves and got into position, they realized quickly, where was the prince. They rushed the room, and noticed the great glass window above the throne shattered. They didn’t realize it at the time but as they rushed the room, their armor let off the faintest hissing noise, with small puffs of steam rising. As if they’d been too hot when they entered the room. Claw marks littered the room and even closer, scratch marks followed. Witnesses from the town square said they saw the prince was pulled through the window. They say some creature made out of shadows seemingly appeared from the air, and with a screech unlike anything of this realm, dragged him through the window. Servants in the hall could hear the struggle of a fight. The king’s sword made its familiar hum as it was pulled and then hearing his cries of anguish and suffering as he was torn. 

Now the kingdom lay with many issues at hand. Their king is murdered. The heir to the throne is missing, kidnapped by something evil, something dark. The kingdom was in chaos at this moment. Who would rule them? What would this mean for the prince? Would anyone find him? The head of the kings guard and many other officials in the kingdom took charge of the kingdom as a council, putting out a prize for anyone would could either find the prince alive, or bring them the beasts head. If the worst was to have occurred, then whoever was brave enough for the task would be awarded the crown. Who will dare take this task?

[here-is-a-story]

Here is a story, where the biggest threat to a kingdom, was the kingdom itself.

Once upon a time, there was an old kingdom as there always is. In this kingdom, the people lived in relative harmony. There was the occasional threat of famine or invading armies looking to take their land, monsters that lurked at night, and dark magic being cast to harm them but as I said, relative harmony. Through all of this was the royal family, an ancient line of kings and queens dating back to the days of creation, who tasked themselves with guarding those unable to take care of themselves or their own families. They held ancient knowledge, tomes locked away with practices of the mystic arts, ancient artifacts created by a variety of creatures from all realms imaginable. Then came a time where there was a young boy, the prince, who was just so unlike the others. You see where his family despised magic and feared the threat of impending doom if they were to face such forces, he was intrigued. His entire life was spent wandering the castles, but the entire time all he wanted to do was go beyond the one door he held no access too. A boy with all the power in the land and all he wanted was the one thing he couldn’t have. He couldn’t explain it but something sat just in the pit of his stomach, and at night it would come into his dreams. This longing, this echo, a desire to delve into what hid behind those doors. To know what came from other worlds, to know what those worlds held to offer for this one. But like many of the villagers in the square, he wasn’t aware that his destiny didn’t sit behind that door, nor did it lay on that throne he was being prepared for. No sadly for our prince, his destiny was a fate some would never wish upon their worst enemy. His fate would leave him longing for these days in the castle, eagerly running through the halls and training with the guards. He would never again know the same joy that would blossom in his chest as his nursemaid would bring him his favorite pie on his birthday ever year. He would never again know the love, of family, of friends, of his kingdom again. But let us save that story for another day.