The moon glowed brightly among the stars. The place was pleasantly quiet. It was one of those days where Alexander wished would never end.
He was the son of the king. He was of royal blood; but he never felt treated as such. Indeed, he was the king's son, but he was never recognized nor granted the title of a prince; for he was also the son of a lowly woman. His father, King Ramil, bore him out of a prostitute; an affair so scandalous that his real identity was never revealed to the rest of the kingdom, except those who were in the palace. He was only introduced as the king's nephew.
He sighed as he remembered his childhood. Those awful days that made him wish he was never born. For a time he grew up in a brothel, where his mother works. He didn't know who his father was at the time. She was always busy 'working' with all sorts of men, most of whom end up drunk. Working was the word; he didn't want it to be called in another term. Every night he would be in his room, hearing the moans coming from every corner of his room. Sometimes, it was screams of agony. Then in the morning he would often see his mother covered in bruises.
Although it was his mother who looked after him, she never treated him as her own son. She never hurt him physically, though, she just simply ignored him. She would just leave him food on the table and a few coins, and then left him to do whatever his business is.
Oftentimes the other children would spend their time tormenting him. They would occasionally call him names, insult his mother, and insult him for having nothing. As a child he would often end up crying. One time, when he could not take it any longer, he went to his mother to comfort him but all she said was, "It's the truth, isn't it? It was not their fault for being honest."
The abuse continued as the years went by, and he got used to it. However, this was not the case for the other children. It seemed as if they got tired of tormenting him with just words; they started beating him to their heart's content. They would drown him to the river, throw him stones, or just fairly beat him. One roguish act, however, changed the setting.
It was afternoon and the sun was high. He was 15 at the time of the incident. He was walking down the streets when he was cornered by usual bullies. He was of average built, but he was outnumbered and the bullies were much more muscular than him that they were able to take him to the forests with ease. There, they attempted to do numerous tricks on him, and at last when they got tired of him, they had him buried to his neck with the intention of leaving him to his fate. Alexander didn't remember much of what happened after; only that he was feeling extremely angry. All the years of torment, hatred, self-pity, and all the other undesirable feelings and memories finally took a toll on him. Just as he was about to pass out, he heard their screams; all full of agony, pain, and they were begging for mercy. He felt satisfied; deeply satisfied and pleased, and then he passed out.
The next day, he woke up to find his mother talking to an unusual man. He was wearing a knight's clothing which he found strange because people who serve the king directly are not allowed to take a step on 'filthy' places. The man turned to him, introduced himself as Meynard, and then instructed him to pack valuable things. When he asked why, he simply said that he was going to stay under his father's watch. Alexander looked back at his mother, but she only avoided his gaze and left the room.
Her approval didn't matter. Leaving that place sounded like a dream. At once he packed all his belongings, never wondering where they're going, or why a knight would bother to fetch him, then left the brothel.
Hid amazement when he reached the palace was beyond measurable, and his delight when he met his father was beyond anything. He thought he found his safe haven. But now, after five years, he realized that the place he is right now is no different than the one he was in before.
His thoughts were startled when he heard rushed footsteps breaking the tranquillity of the place. He was at the back of the palace, away from the embroilment of the palace. Just as he was about to take another step, the servants arrived.
"What's going on?" He asked almost immediately.
"The king has asked for your presence in the throne room." One of them answered politely. When he asked why, however, he received no answer.
It was unusual. For five years, the king has only asked to see him twice. The first one was when they met, and the second was when they bid Theodore goodbye as he was about to set sail. Now, he has called him for the third time.
As he walked down the hall, he couldn't help but think of his elder brother. Unlike most siblings, the both of them were indifferent from each other. From the moment they first saw each other, Alexander felt the tension between them. Theodore didn't like his presence. In fact, he hated his very existence. In spite of this, Alexander still cared for his brother. He wondered what had already happened to him and frequently, though secretly, prayed to the gods for his safety.
When he reached the throne hall, he was surprised at the heavy, grim ambience of the hall. Naturally, the place would always be filled with cheerful music and laughter, even without a special occasion. Now, not a single face can be seen with any signs of happiness.
He walked towards the left side of the hall. As he walked, he noticed the familiar built of the man who first brought him to the castle. His head was bowed as he kneeled. Alexander looked for his brother, and fear slowly crept into his heart as he noticed that the men present in the hall were companions of Theodore, and only a few of them had returned. His brother was not among them.
He was eager to ask. He wanted to know what happened. But it was royal etiquette that one must not speak before the king does. His father, unfortunately, was deep in his thoughts.
Finally, without looking to anyone, he spoke, "Where is the Crown Prince?"
It was Meynard who answered, "We landed unto an island, Your Majesty. We were only seeking shelter. We thought the natives had welcomed us, but they attacked us in our sleep. We managed to escape and run to the shore, but they were still able to catch us." He paused shakily, before continuing, "His Highness ordered us to go to the boat, promising that he will follow. But the island chief stabbed him in the back. The rest of us were left with no choice but to flee. Forgive us, Your Majesty, for failing to protect the Crown Prince. I will pay for it with my life."
The room was suddenly filled with an eerie silence. No one dared to make a single sound. Alexander looked up to the Queen Claudia. If Theodore somehow hid his anger towards him, the queen made sure that every second of his stay at the castle would be a living hell. Still, he couldn't help himself but the feel sympathetic towards her. She didn't show any emotion, she never did except for her hatred towards him. But deep down he knew she was in pain.
Alexander then turned his gaze towards Meynard. Somehow, he found his words to be dubious. He didn't know why, but he was certain that there was something that Meynard refuses to say.
Then suddenly, the king stood up. Unlike a while ago, his eyes were full of fury. King Ramil was known to be one of the gentlest rulers among the continent, but now it was as if that gentle ruler was replaced with someone that Alexander couldn't recognize.
The king breathed a heavy sigh as he closed his eyes. Everyone waited for an order, but he simply dismissed them. "Tonight has been very dreadful for all of us. Regardless, I still wish to create a wise decision. The Crown Prince has been killed viciously. We will not stand by. But for now, you may all leave. Be warned, for whoever will spread the word about the Crown Prince's fate without my orders shall pay dearly." He paused for a while to catch his breath, and then ordered Meynard to follow him before leaving the hall.
As Meynard left, Alexander eagerly followed and cornered him. Meynard was taken by surprise, but Alexander didn't care. He wanted to know the truth.
"What do you want?" Meynard asked. Like the most of them, Alexander knew that Meynard wasn't also fond of him, but neither is he.
"What really happened," he said, making sure he emphasized every word, "We all know that Theodore would never risk his life for anyone. Not that he's selfish, but we all know he's a coward."
Meynard laughed mockingly, "You speak as if you know what truly happened. But come to think of it, Prince Theodore wasn't just somebody. He's the legitimate son of King Ramil, heir apparent to the throne of Ashcania. Let's say that he really didn't die to protect us, but did you really think I would tarnish his name because it's the truth? His dignity and honour is as dear to me as life." With those words, Alexander dared not to answer. "What truly happened doesn't matter. What matters most is we avenge his death, whether the ones who killed him should truly pay or not. Prince Theodore's defeat is the defeat of all of Ashcania. Do remember that." And with that, Meynard took his leave.
That night, Alexander was bothered with Meynard's words. The people who killed Theodore might just be innocent, for whatever reason that he's yet to uncover. But his father would surely want to punish them.
He tried to put his mind to ease. He shouldn't care. He did not even know those people. He just prayed that he would never get involved.
But this was not the case, because the next morning, the king immediately called for him and his orders were clear.
Alexander would set sail immediately and travel to Deria, where he is tasked with avenging his brother's death by executing the murderer and enslave the people.
He pities the people, but his eagerness to prove himself was greater. With a heavy heart, Alexander obliged.