“What was so important that it needed to interrupt my happy hour?” The mage was the first to blurt out anything in the circle of adults, all standing at their familiar gathering place.
“Well Sarah hadn’t told me she visited my sister awhile back, so when I asked about it, she told me about what happened. Basically found out the tower the sins used to live in is now empty.”
The elf laughed nervously as she could feel the various gazes scrutinize her action. “Well, that’s not the reason I wanted to call you all out here. You see, since that time and since what Adriana told me about what she found in the sewers, I remembered something I think we all overlooked, though it’s something only an Umbro native would know anything about.”
“Well, out with it, what is it?” The redhead was the only one brave enough to cajole the elf into speaking, although this bravery may have been the buzz of alcohol fueling her inability to gauge her peer’s reactions to what she said.
“Well, you see, Lucy apparently said that Jade was aided by another man named Monty. Since I don’t his last name, I can’t confirm this, but I believe he may be the long-lost prince of Umbro.”
“What would a prince be doing helping a thug like Jade?” The cleric decided to give Jessica a break and ask something in a less condemning fashion.
“That’s the thing, he was lost for a reason. Umbro got rid of the monarchy, so I guess he found work wherever he could, doing whatever was available.”
“So this Monty guy, is he someone of interest?” The dragoon wondered what a ‘lost prince’ would look like. All he could imagine was him wearing the queen’s dress, but it was all dirty.
“I suppose I should tell you guys the whole story. It’s the reason I asked you to come here anyhow. It’s also a long story, which is why I asked Jessica to bring a few drinks.”
“Oh, if it’s going to be longer than five minutes, you should have asked me to bring a couple of fridges worth.” The redhead received a prompt slap upside the head for her remark.
“Go on Sarah.” The rogue made sure no one else would interrupt.
“Not long ago, Umbro used to be ruled by a monarchy. The king was a calm and understanding man, the queen a passive and caring woman, and the child a playful but surprisingly mature boy. They were, by all accounts, a golden family; at least that’s the side most people want to remember.
Many generations prior, Umbro started trading with Pyora, primarily Coalago. Not only did Umbro receive many important goods and develop a healthier economy, the ideas of the city were implemented post-haste. Coalago is responsible for a lot of the inventions we have today, like bathrooms and a sewer system. The most important thing Coalago sent over, however, were ideas: new ideas for inventions, life styles, and most importantly, politics.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
Before the last king was born, people wanted something else, they wanted a democracy, believing monarchy was holding them back. This belief pressured the king throughout his whole life, growing worse and worse until he warped from a kind and considerate man to a tyrant with an iron fist. From what I’ve been told, if his father or grandfather had done this, it may have worked; unfortunately, the people had grown too relentless to control. The last king’s actions would be the final straw.
The king would initially do most of what was asked of him, but he would not relinquish the monarchy. The people wanted more houses, more wild animals taken care of, more imports. The king would deliver, though at a rate no one was pleased with.
The people began using Pyora’s currency over Umbro’s money as form of protest, so the king initiated an embargo on Pyora, which resulted in more protests. The king was angered at this, so he had his guards arrest the peaceful protesters. When peaceful approach is met by violence, violence sure to follow.
The citizens revolted in anger, a bloody battle ensuing between them and king’s men. Legend has it that only his most loyal of guards tried to fight the mob, the rest having joined the revolution after poor treatment.
When the battle was over, the king was torn asunder, his wife was buried in her own private garden, but the people took pity on the boy. Even though by this point he was now an adult, he never once acted against the people, his mother having at least had the guards burn houses of people she scorned.
When the new form of government took over, they kept the prince as a figurehead, his decision making always influenced by the majority. The citizens came to call him the puppet prince, taking pity on the man, even though he was still richer than the vast majority of citizens.”
“So, what happened to him? Sounds like he had a good life.”
“No one knows. While the family’s own personal matters aren’t well documented due to the dying interest for the monarchy, Monty was highly documented…well, until he disappeared one day. When he was around twenty-four, Monty vanished without a trace. No one really knew him personally, but those who documented him and asked him questions were clueless on where he went. Some think he’s now just a homeless person that nobody can recognize, others think he died somehow, and still others think he found a new home.”
The other five simply looked at one another, unsure how to react to the story. Matthew felt shivers up his arms and back trying to relate this story to Elizabeth and her mother. Brian was still wondering what the man looked like. Eric felt cold thinking about the king and queen’s fate. Adriana felt pity for the poor prince. Even Jessica was enamored with the story, the whole time looking at her first drink, unopened, in contemplation.
“It’s a lot to take in, I know, but I can’t imagine any other Monty working with him. Especially since this story took place twenty years ago. From what Lucy said about him, the brief description she did give, that she could give, he sounded middle aged. There’s just one thing bothering me about it though.”
“What’s that?” The knight asked softly, hugging his girlfriend who was shaking despite being the storyteller.
“Why?”