My story begins years before my time, when the great red Sun peaked high in the sky and shone its burning rays over the desert-swamped kingdom of Mendessa.
In those times, the beasts of legend that once threatened the lands deteriorated at the hands of man, whose weapons had finally gotten the better of them. Chupacabras were imprisoned and tamed by the king's men into hounds that hunted in favour of their masters' cause. Atotolins were hunted with great difficulty, shot out of the sky and ravaged by the hounds. Cipactli were rounded up at all water sources and killed by the dozens until none were left. And in charge of it all was the great King Andres II, an esteemed and ruthless leader.
But even after this cull, Mendessa remained under the threat of a feathered serpent - the last of its kind - and its thirst for revenge threatened to devour all that King Andres held sacred; Mendessa, its citizens, and most importantly, Andres' daughter, the beautiful Princess Josefina.
When the last of Mendessa's cattle was no longer enough to satisfy the beast's insatiable appetite, it seemed the end was near. Despite their efforts, many tried and failed to destroy it, and in a desperate effort to buy time, the king and queen decided the only way to save their people was to sacrifice their imprisoned. But soon, the prisons emptied, and the serpent hungered for more.
With no other choice, King Andres proposed a ballot, in which one citizen would be randomly selected each day to be sacrificed to the monster. It was with a heavy heart that he nominated himself into the ballot, too, to stand alongside his people.
After weeks of sacrifices and many lives lost to the wicked creature, King Andres' fears came into fruition, and somehow, his daughter's name was not only inserted into the ballot, but taken out of it. Despite her parents' and subjects' protests, Princess Josefina nobly accepted her fate, and went to meet the feathered serpent in the final hours of the summer solstice.
The burning Sun sank into the sand, hiding from the serpent that slithered out of the golden grains, and as it was finally obscured by the land, the princess came face to face with the feathered serpent. It bared its bloody fangs and hissed as though it preferred its food afraid and powerless. The princess closed her eyes, refusing to give it the satisfaction of watching her shake. The night sky fell fast, darkness seeping in. The princess waited, heart in her throat.
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She opened her eyes.
A bloody pound of flesh fell on her feet, heavy and warm. A crimson river spilled out, drowning her sandals. The blood was so heavy and plentiful that she had to wade her way through to avoid being knocked to the ground. Her vision was blurred, and for a moment she feared that the blood was her own - not blue, as her subjects conspired, but as red as any other woman's.
Her legs buckled, unable to push any further. Before her head soaked with the blood, it was caught. A poisonous stench woke her conscience, and before she knew it, she was staring up at a handsome young figure, clothes splattered but his face unafraid.
The hero, the courageous Duke Santos of Elijandri, had slain the feathered serpent, and thus brought the end to Mendessa's suffering.
Princess Josefina fell instantly in love with her saviour, and in the autumn, in that bewitching season where golden leaves showered the city streets and the Sun found its mercy, the two were married.
Duke Santos continued his bout of adventures in the west, being hailed across Elijandri and Mendessa alike as a luminary, crafted by the Sun itself, and while the eventual death of King Andres II devastated the kingdom, the newly-crowned Queen Josefina and her beloved King Santos were greatly welcomed and adored.
But King Santos' adventuring would soon come to an end, as Queen Josefina, once believed to be infertile, fell pregnant.
Instantly, a change flickered in the king. He grew more and more cautious by the day, his brave rebelliousness falling to the shadows as he built greater, higher walls around the kingdom. His trust grew thin, questioning anyone and everyone who may pose a threat to his unborn child. Some feared the paranoia would madden him.
Once his son was born, the heroic king became an overprotective pacifist, sheltering his child from the world. Although some questioned his ability to co-rule, the era of danger had long passed, and the story of a ruthless daredevil pacified by the birth of his child was a wholesome one that people gravitated to.
They said the baby prince was a saviour of sorts - a symbol of the peaceful times ahead. They said the king's softening was the will of the Sun. They said the king was enchanted by the baby's charm, and thus the prince was given the nickname "Prince Charming".
Prince Charming.
A name I sought to reject. A name latched onto me from birth.
I am Prince Andres III of Mendessa, son of Santos.