Writing Challenge 2015-12-10
Content: Has a Ruler
The mansion was eerily silent. Most people had fled the city as the army approached, but the royal family remained. There should have been some kind of movement, some sound. He started searching the rooms.
The surrender ceremony was getting ready to take place. The King and Queen should be here somewhere. He was certain he had seen his prince come inside.
A young man screamed.
Fear raced through him. “Trowa!” He ran toward the sound.
A man stepped into the hall, blood ran down his sword to soak into the floor.
He stopped and starred. There stood the young man he had raised, taught, and loved like his own son.
“What have you done?” he asked, as he watched with sick fascination, the blood drip from the magical blade he had crafted for him.
“Taken my destiny.” The man replied moving farther down the hall.
Reluctantly, he looked inside the room; quickly he turned away, trying not to retch. The twelve year old crown prince had been almost sliced in half. He turned his eyes to Prince Trowa and saw him enter another room. A woman’s scream followed.
He ran for the room. At first all he saw was pink lace, then the red pool of blood staining the pink carpet. As Trowa moved away from the body blood dripped on a stuffed bear at his feet. A nursery; this was a nursery.
His mind could not accept what was happening. His prince, the boy he put all his heart and soul in could not be doing this. It wasn’t possible.
Somehow he found himself standing between his prince and a cradle.
The Princess lay quietly, blinking up at them with large blue eyes.
“Step aside.” Trowa said.
He shook his head. “How could you do this? They surrendered, there was to be no bloodshed. No one needed to die.”
“You have read me the prophecy my whole life,
Born – Raised
Loved – Bound
For the kingdom
Trained – Bled
Conquered – Crowned
All that is left is the princess and her blood will make me king.”
The princess must have sensed the tension and started to fuss.
“I can’t let you do this.” He said, gripping the cradle.
Trowa lifted his sword, “Then you will die with them.”
Internally he cursed his own genius. The sword would protect the prince from any magic he could cast. The boy he loved would kill him to claim the throne. He closed his eyes in defeat.
“Goodbye Hatori sensei.”
Trowa gasped in pain.
Hatori’s eyes flew open to see a sword point protruding from the prince’s chest.
Trowa’s sword fell from his hand and he dropped to his knees. The prince slowly turned his head to see the man who killed him. “Miiiiiiinnnne.” He hissed in surprise.
Numbly, Hatori watched his prince fall to the floor dead. All the hopes and dreams he had invested, gone. How could he have been so wrong about a person? Had he been so blinded by the prophecy, that he hadn’t seen the real Trowa?
The princess quieted, Hatori looked that the child. The man was gently stroking her cheek.
Of course, he knew this young man as well. He had been raised beside Trowa. Carrying Trowa’s every sin; the whipping boy.
His gaze went back to Trowa. “What am I going to do now?” he asked aloud.
“Continue as planned.”
Hatori leaned heavily on the cradle. “How are we supposed to do that?” he asked in defeat.
“You will tell them there has been a tragedy. A soldier murdered the royal family, but the princess has been saved. There will be a royal funeral and then you will crown the new king.”
Still drowning in his depression, Hatori was barely listening, “and who would that be?”
Hatori’s gaze shot up, meeting a steady green eye.
For the last 15 years these two young men have been inseparable. He remembered ‘The Boy’ sitting quietly in class while the prince did everything but pay attention. Always he was there, like a shadow. But in all that time, he couldn’t remember ever meeting this confident gaze. No one spoke to ‘The Boy’, we pretended he didn’t exist. He didn’t even have a name.
“What- who should I say is King?”
Hatori gaped at him. “It would never work! Who would believe it?”
‘The Boy’ turned back to the princess who was cooing at him. “Why wouldn’t they? The prince did not lead the army. You met with the Generals. When has anyone ever seen him without me? When you call me Trowa, they will believe. Someday, when his parents are determined to visit this kingdom, if they say anything, no one will believe or care.”
He was right, it could work, but did he care anymore? What was the point? All of his hopes and dreams were dead on the floor. Why had the gods given him that damn prophecy? What good was it when it failed to come true? “That damn prophecy!” He cursed, “How could his own prophecy kill him?” His fists clenched in anger. It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t right.
“It wasn’t his.”
“Sensei, what was the prophecy for? You repeated it often and he became obsessed with what it meant for him. But why was there a prophecy in the first place?”
Hatori thought back, “To save a kingdom.”
‘The Boy’ nodded. “And so we shall.” He picked up the tiny princess. “For her.”
And that is where the writing challenge ends. But for me the story went deeper. So, here are just a few more things that were going on in my mind while writing this.
Hatori didn’t like it. He objected to it from the beginning. Beating one child for another’s mistakes was wrong.
It took everything he had to not intervene when the young prince spoke back to his father the king and the silent boy at the prince’s side was struck across the face, knocking him to the floor.
As much as Hatori detested it, he had to admit it was working. The prince had never been better behaved.
Unlike the rest of the castle, Hatori could not completely ignore ‘The Boy’. When he set up the school room, he made sure there was a desk for ‘The Boy’ as well.
One day ‘The Boy’ seemed to be struggling with the lesson and Hatori stepped close to look down at his paper. “What are you having trouble with?” he asked.
Trowa screamed, “No, Mine!”
Hatori stepped back as Trowa threw his arms around ‘The Boy’, pulling the child’s face into his chest. He glared up at his teacher.
“Don’t talk to him! Mother said he was Mine! I’m the only one who gets to hear his voice!”
Hatori stepped down the dim hall, headed for the library, when he turned a corner and saw two tall young men. Prince Trowa threw an arm around ‘The Boy’s shoulders and pulled him close. He spoke something softly into his captive’s ear.
‘The Boy’s face didn’t register any emotion, so Hatori didn’t know what was being said.
As he watched Trowa’s free hand reached forward to touch-
Hatori quickly pulled back around the corner. He didn’t want to know what was going to happen next. Feeling like a coward, he fled.
‘The Boy’ did have a name that only the prince used.