“Whose turn is it?” the beautiful nymph called. Her skin was a pale blue and her hair was sparkling with pearls and curly from sea salt. She had just finished wrapping up the story of a girl who drowned to death, having been going around in a circle amongst the spirits gathered and swapping tales.
“What about you?” A forest guardian asked, a layer of moss sprouting from his skin and a deer skull perched pleasantly atop his head. He was pointing to a small teenage boy sitting on a rotting log across the circle who had yet to speak. The boy had a pair of sheep horns curling from his dark, wavy locks. But the most shocking thing about his appearance were the two empty sockets where his eyes should’ve been. The spirits all simultaneously wondered to themselves what his story was. The boy spoke in a clear, light voice.
“Once upon a time,” he began, “there was a boy born to a king and a queen.”
“A prince!” a nearby fairy squealed, wings fluttering in excitement. The boy nodded before continuing.
“His mother, the queen, was infamous in all the land for her outstanding beauty. Of course, her hair was soft and shiny, her skin was smooth and clear, her voice pleasant and enchanting. But there was one feature that made her more beautiful than any other: her eyes. They were an abnormal shade of blue, clearer than any body of water and bright and sparkling as sunlight on the waves. They were an unnatural but hypnotizing color that none had ever seen before. It was known far and wide, and had drawn many suitors before she married. But deep in her heart, she only loved one man. He was a prince from a neighboring kingdom, and the two had fallen in love as teenagers.”
“Ooh! This is just like a fairy tale!” the nymph exclaimed excitedly.
“They got happily married,” the boy went on, “and had a son, the boy. The first prince. The king and queen loved him more than anything, and he had his mother’s eyes.”
“It must have been a blessing from the gods!” a fox spirit proclaimed. The priestess who had called the spirits together turned to the fox and raised a finger to her lips, signaling to be quiet and let the boy go on.
“Yeah, well, the blessing didn’t last long,” the boy said somberly. “The queen died shortly after childbirth. Some unexpected complications. Soon after that, the entire kingdom was overrun with a terrible plague that killed many.”
The faces of the spirits began to fall one by one as the boy went on. The atmosphere grew colder and colder, the air around them even dropping a few degrees as he spoke.
“The kingdom, which had also seen the boy’s birth as a blessing at first, began to think of him as a curse instead. As he grew older and more unfortunate circumstances befell the kingdom, his status as a gift from the gods changed and he became viewed as a punishment from them instead. Despite the prince never actually doing anything wrong, for he was just a boy, public opinion of him only grew worse and the king was forced to keep him locked in a room in the palace for his own safety.”
“That’s awful!” the nymph cried with tears in her eyes. “The boy did nothing wrong! How could they blame him?”
The priestess again shook her head and hushed the nymph. “Let him continue. We shouldn’t keep interrupting.”
Sadly, the nymph quieted down. Although they were silent, the other spirits agreed with her. They couldn’t help but feel the prince’s treatment was unfair.
“The people didn’t think that way. They only saw a focus for their frustrations from the plague, the famine, and the conflict. A common object of hatred brought people together and allowed them to feel better about their own shitty lives, if even for a moment,” the boy explained without a trace of bitterness or discontent in his tone. He then continued once more.
“The only ones who came to see the prince were a maid who brought him food each day and his father, the king,” the boy started again, “The prince and the king had grown apart, however. The boy was upset his father had locked him away, but that was not the only reason. The king had many affairs since his wife had died, feeling empty and trying to recreate the love he once felt. But he would quickly get bored with his mistresses and move on to the next, unable to successfully replicate the feeling his first love gave him. Not only that, but the many affairs led to many illegitimate offspring, all who were treated better than the prince locked away in his room. The boy didn’t understand why his father kept coming to see him even as a teenager when he was clearly never happy to see the king. Besides, he had so many more well-liked children to spend time with, why visit the one who brought nothing but misery? Then one day, it occurred to the prince as his father sat across from him. The words that came out of his mouth made a chill run up the boy’s spine. ‘You know, you have your mother’s eyes. So beautiful.’”
The spirits all looked uneasily between themselves. They didn’t want to get scolded by the priestess again for interrupting, but the fairy couldn’t help but groan wearily. Regardless, the boy carried on.
“From that day on, the king continued to visit his son more and more, his mental state deteriorating with each day. The people of the kingdom began to call him a mad king, as he began to neglect them and act irrationally. No one knew why he was so holed up in his castle. They didn’t know of the prince, locked in his room and treated as an exhibit for his deranged father to stare at. Years before, the king had made an announcement of the prince’s death to the world. He told them that a terrible illness had swept him away from the land of the living, and that he was gone forever. The boy, of course, had no idea of this. He thought the people still hated him and that they didn’t want to see him. He thought that, as much as he hated his father, if he were to leave he would be stoned or stabbed or even kidnapped, but inevitably killed. He believed it all. Until one day, the maid who had been looking after him and feeding him all these years couldn’t take it anymore. She had grown old and tired, and seeing the king’s increasingly insane behavior, figured she had nothing to lose and told the boy everything. And so, they made a plan for the prince to escape.”
“Oh please tell me that he does!” a flower spirit pleaded, the flowers decorating her hair having wilted from listening to the boy’s story. The other spirits once again chimed in their agreement. However, with a glare, the priestess silenced them yet again.
“He made it quite far,” the boy told them. “He was outside the palace, having crept around using the maid’s instructions after dark. He used mostly servant passageways and was constantly looking over his shoulder and holding his breath. After many long minutes that felt like hours, he made it outside.
He was in the garden when it happened. Tiptoeing towards the edges, he could see the exit into the wilderness beyond. He had a small pouch of gold he was going to use to try and start a life in some village miles away. But once again, the gods were not on his side. A figure grabbed his shoulder from behind, and the boy whirled around in fear, expecting to see his father. Instead, he saw a boy he never met before.
‘Who are you?’ the other boy asked, appearing not much younger than the prince.
‘I’m no one. Who are you?’ the prince replied.
‘You don’t know me? I’m the fourth prince,” the second boy said.
Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.
‘The prince?’
Looking closer, he could see that this boy had some features that vaguely resembled his father.
‘Oh,’ he said.
His half-brother sighed. ‘You must be lost, but a servant can’t be wandering around at night like this.’
Afraid to speak again, the boy just nodded his head and turned to leave. But that was a mistake. As he turned, he finally made eye contact with the other boy, who gasped in realization.
‘Your eyes... you must be him.’
‘Who? I’m not anybody. Just a servant like you said,’ the prince hastily replied. He grew nervous when the other boy’s grip on his shoulder tightened. ‘Let me go!’
‘Brother, calm down,” his half-brother tried to say, but the boy was panicking.
‘I’m not your brother! I don’t know you! Please, let me go,’ he pleaded with tears in his eyes.
The other boy opened his mouth to speak again when they heard the footsteps approaching. Not just any footsteps, armor-clad footsteps. Guards.
‘Who’s there?’ a guard shouted, still some distance away. Luckily, the night was dark, and one couldn’t see very far without a lantern.
‘Quickly, get behind there!’ the fourth prince whispered, shoving the boy in the direction of a hedge. He ducked behind it right as the first of the guards rounded the corner.
‘My prince, what are you doing out here at this hour?’ the guard in front asked.
‘I couldn’t sleep, so I was going for a stroll. Sorry to alarm you,’ the fourth prince responded naturally.
‘I thought I heard voices,’ another guard said, not yet convinced.
‘I was talking to myself,” the fourth prince explained sheepishly, ‘saying some prayers to the gods and such.’
Eventually, the guards’ suspicions died down and they left the prince to his roaming. He was just the fourth prince, anyway, so they didn’t need to be as strict with him.
‘You can come out now,’ the fourth prince whispered to the hedge. Hesitantly, the boy peeked his head out and peered at him.
‘Why did you help me?’ he asked.
‘He may be my father, but the king has done nothing for me. He tossed my mother aside the second he realized she would never be your mother. Besides, your existence may be a secret to the outside world, but it’s not a very well-kept one within the castle walls. We’re still brothers, after all. I would never let something terrible happen to one of my siblings,’ he explained.
‘Why did you never try to help me before, then?’ the prince couldn’t help but ask. The fourth prince looked guilty.
‘I don’t exactly have much power in the palace. I’m only fourth in line for the throne, not including you - no offense. Also, no offense again, but I had never met you. It’s kind of hard to help someone you’ve never even seen. Sorry if that sounds mean, but the king is super protective of you, and I’m disposable. If I got caught, I have no doubt he could have easily gotten rid of me,” he said.
The prince could understand that, and so he really couldn’t blame him. If he were in his position, he’d probably have done the same.
‘Well, thank you for your help just now. I really can’t repay you,’ the prince replied.
‘No need. Like I said, we’re brothers. Now that I have met you, I promise to help you however I can,’ the fourth prince said with a smile.
The boy wanted to cry. He couldn’t believe someone he just met would be so kind to him, even if they were related.
‘I’m pretty sure I’m older. How are you supposed to protect me?’ the boy asked mockingly.
‘Yes, yes, you may be older. But I bet only one of us was trained with a sword,’ the fourth prince laughed, tapping the sword hilt strapped to his waist.
And so, the fourth prince escorted the boy out of the garden to the edge of the wilderness, where they went to say their goodbyes.
‘I wish I could go with you further, but I do have a place here. As awful as our father is, the siblings get along quite well. I wish you could meet them, but I know father would never allow it, or let you go.’
The boy also felt sad about this. He had always wanted siblings, and it was so lonely in his room with no one to keep him company apart from his maid day after day. But, he was also grateful. It may have been for a short while, but the boy was happy to have met his brother, and told him as much.
‘I promise, we can meet again. When my older brother takes the throne, I will come and find you. I don’t think it will be much longer now. The people are already turning against the king. You must survive until then,’ the fourth prince pleaded. The boy steadfastly agreed with tears in his eyes.
‘Before I go, tell me, what is your name?’ he asked.
Just as his half-brother was about to reply, he let out a choked noise that faded into a pained whimper. The boy looked down in time to see the glint of a sword poking through the fourth prince’s chest before being pulled out of his back. A dark red patch had formed as blood poured out, and the boy dropped to the ground along with the fourth prince’s body, desperately trying to press on the wound. But the blood wouldn’t stop flowing, the fourth prince only spitting up more as he tried to cough out a breath.”
“No!” the nymph couldn’t help but shout, salty tears pouring down her face. “I hate this story!”
Instead of shushing her like the previous times, the priestess patted the spot next to her, and when the nymph came to sit beside her she wrapped the nature spirit in her arms and stroked her hair gently.
“Please continue,” the priestess insisted, ignoring the sniffling of the other spirits around the circle who were also distraught. The boy nodded.
“‘I went to visit you and you weren’t there,’ a voice came from above, and the boy froze instantly with fear because he recognized it immediately. He had been so preoccupied with his half-brother that he hadn’t even bothered to check the identity of the one who stabbed him.
‘Father, what have you done? How could you stab your own son!?’ the boy cried.
‘He was going to take you from me,’ the king stated.
‘No! It was me who was trying to leave, he had nothing to do with it!’ the boy wailed, the fourth prince still in his arms. But he had stopped breathing, and it was clear to all that he had died.
‘Why weren’t you in your room?” the king asked as if he hadn’t heard him.
The boy was shocked. He knew his father was unstable, but he had never seen him like this before. It seemed like he had finally snapped. Suddenly, the king reached down and yanked the boy up by his shirt.
‘Answer me!’ he shouted.
‘Why were you trying to visit so late?” the boy asked instead, although he wasn’t sure if he wanted to hear the answer. It was the middle of the night, after all.
The king paused for a moment.
‘I was with a maiden, but I couldn’t feel a thing. She wasn’t nearly as pretty as you.’
‘Father,’ the boy wailed, gripping onto the man’s wrist that was holding him up, ‘do you even hear yourself?’
At that, his father threw him back onto the ground harshly.
‘What choice do I have?!’ he shouted. ‘She’s gone. I thought I’d never see those beautiful eyes again.’ He turned back to his son, staring intensely at him.
‘But you have her eyes...’ he said as if in a trance, reaching down for the boy again. But the prince flinched away. This clearly upset the king.
‘I’ll never go back with you,” the boy proclaimed. The king seemed to have lost all restraint, then.
‘You want to leave? You really are your mother’s son. Fine. But first,’ the man dropped his sword and pulled out a dagger, ‘I’m keeping these.’
And the last thing the boy remembered was the pain of the dagger plunging into his eye. The end.”
As the boy finished, still sitting on his withering log, the circle of spirits was filled with sobs.
“What an awful story,” the nymph complained again.
“You told a story about a girl drowning right before this,” the priestess reminded her.
“Yeah, but it wasn’t THAT SAD!” the nymph wailed. The other spirits chorused agreements.
“What happened after that?” the flower spirit asked, albeit warily.
The boy turned his gaping eye sockets towards her with a blank expression.
“He bled out onto the forest floor and died.”
No one was happy with that answer, but it wasn’t their story, and they couldn’t change it. Only the priestess looked satisfied.
“I’m proud of you all for sharing your stories today. It is important to embrace the past in order to move forward,” she said.
The boy with the horns turned to her, looking as though he wanted to ask something, but quickly shut his mouth.
“You want to know where he is, right?” she asked him as though she had read his mind. The boy nodded.
“Don’t worry. I’ve spoken to him. He’s waiting for you with the rest of your siblings. The two of you will be able to meet again soon,” she said with a smile. The boy looked relieved and, for the first time since they’d gathered, happy.
“Oh, and he wanted me to tell you that his name is Lucien,” she added on.
“Thank you,” he replied softly. He was staring at the moss beneath his feet like he was contemplating something, but the slight smile on his face betrayed his true feelings.
“Priestess, I’ve been meaning to ask you. What god do you serve?” the forest guardian asked out of curiosity. She turned to him.
“The God of Death, of course. See you next week.”