My father, the king, is sick. I held his hand as the open window brought in a clean breeze and washed out the scent of death. A beautiful birdsong, seemingly containing magic, entered our ears as I smiled at him. His face seemed to grow much more vigor as he listened and he sat up from his bed with ease. It truly was a miracle that I witnessed.
When the bird left, he collapsed on the ground and his ruddied cheeks paled again. His skin looked like ashy death as he was carried to his large and intricate bed of silks. My brothers gathered in the room barely containing delighted smiles, ready for our father to leave them the kingdom from his deathbed.
My hand squeezed his comfortingly. As we were all gathered together in the room, the birdsong echoed through our ears once more, and my father quickly called for us to go out and collect the bird for him. It had been years since he was so spirited, so my brothers, thinking it was their best shot at collecting the throne, raced as quickly as they could to the spire the small golden bird perched.
They were too eager, as I watched them both almost fall off of the castle many times as they pulled one another back and used body parts as stepping stones. They were heinous with their greed. When they got to the top, the bird flew away as quickly as it came, and we watched it go into a tree.
"My son's, if you bring me that bird you will inherit the throne."
At these words my brother's eyes blurred over with desire and they both fumbled for the door. But at his instruction, my eldest brother would be the first to leave, and a day later my second brother should go, and I would leave last.
I kept hold of my father's hand, like I had many nights before. I was only sixteen this year, and would be setting out alone. My eyes kept wandering out into that dark forest through the night. I could almost hear the shrieks and cries of night beasts. I could easily imagine them eating away at my flesh.
I felt a soft and leathery hand touch my own, and my eyes, in the same blue color as my father's, met his. I had woken him from his slumber as my hands squeezed his too tightly. The hand that patted my own didn't feel the way it used to, just a few years ago.
That witch had cursed my father due to jealousy. She wanted him to be her own, but he was a king, and married. My eyes flashed with rage when I remembered her. She was so hateful. My father whispered something barely audible, and I leaned closer to his voice.
"Ambrus, it will be fine. The worst you have to fear is your own self. Be cautious and kind and you will prevail."
I felt a warmth pool in my eyes that I hadn't in many years and I nodded to him. We both fell asleep that night feeling at peace. When we woke to the cocks crow, my eldest brother was leaving. He said nary a goodbye as he went to fulfill his lust for a throne. I stared at his retreating back and felt a bitterness well up inside me.
He was our father. He deserved our respect and care for raising us. He worked so hard to make sure we knew how to be the best we could. It seemed I was emotional these days, because I felt a deep resentment toward my eldest brother at this moment.
My father started to eat his meal with shaky hands as I stared at him with trepidation. The soup shook precariously in his hold. I would take it from him, but as a king, he had much pride and would not accept the help of others so easily. Many times, had he burned his own lap as he tried for a mouthful of food.
He always stubbornly refused help, "If I can't do this by myself, what kind of king am I to try to protect my kingdom and keep our home prosperous?" He had asked just last year, four years into his curse. He had two years until the curse would kill him, but he would not accept the witch as the queen. She was much too unfit to care for the people.
I watched him eat, ready to intervene. His eyes held such a smile that could almost collapse the world as he successfully took a bite. He steeped some bread with the rich soup and took a large bite that I suspected he might choke on. When he swallowed it down I smiled in relief.
I stayed by his side, reading documents and helping my father pass laws and bills that should keep the country in order. That day was such a regular and harmonious day that I could only feel the small bit of nagging dread in my heart as we spoke. I slept by his side once more, and we woke to a similar situation.
My brother left with only word from the steward to say his goodbyes. It would be a very tiring journey, I thought as I looked at the tree in the distance. My heart thumped in my chest with anxiety. It felt much further away than it truly was. I could see smoke from my first brothers fire.
The dying coils rose from the gentle greens and into the clean blue sky, making a beautifully ugly mark of where he was. I was sure that the bird must've been chased off far away by him by now, and if not, it would be. My second day of waiting was practically the same as the last.
My second brother had also made camp in the same place and through the day I watched the fire die again. He also seemed to pack up and leave. I was the only one left to see the bird come from the tree and approach the tower as they both left. I spoke to my father about my needs to go through these places.
The next morning I set off with my steed and hound to find the bird. I led the way and we settled where my brothers had for the night. The forest air was colder than the castles, but not by much. I couldn't see why they would camp in a place with so many boulders, but it was sufficient enough with the premade fire and blockage from wind.
I slept much better than I expected, and used my learned archery to bring myself and my dog a deer for breakfast. I salted it and roasted it on the premade spit. While I was cooking I saw a fox come through. Truly an oblivious one that didn't notice us at all as it looked around.
It then jumped in the water and splashed about. When it stepped and made a specific sound, it seemed so self satisfied in the way it held itself as it played. It climbed out of the water and froze, seemingly realising that I was there for the first time. It didn't even look up, it seemed to be preparing itself to run, but after no loud noises it looked up at me.
A pair of pale violet eyes met mine. They were simple, but clever, and much too wise for what it was. It flinched when it met my eyes, but seemed to calm itself just a bit before looking warily at everything I did. It seemed to know the fickle nature of humans, but I was still amused by its childishness from before.
I spoke to it, knowing it wouldn't really understand what I was saying, but probably know that I meant no harm by my tone. I offered it a bit of meat, which it seemed very surprised to receive. I gave it a gesture to eat and it kept one eye on me and my dog in particular, who was much too busy munching on a chop to notice it.
It seemed to be female, based on it's frame, but I couldn't quite tell. I watched it eat, feeling a little connection form between us and felt satisfied. This interesting creature was amusing to watch, and I felt a bit sad to think that I would have to leave it. I wanted to watch it for a while longer.
It's behavior was like that of a small child. I couldn't help but want to pat it's fluffy little head. The stories of foxes stinking didn't seem to be true, as this one smelled like damp dirt and green plants. When it finished it's meal, I got the shock of a lifetime. It spoke to me in a calming voice that was almost like a child's, and changed into a human.
He didn't seem surprised when I fainted. He also didn't seem very weirded out when I woke up. In fact, he packed my things and put the meat in a way that would dry it cleanly and quickly. His face lifted in a smile when I gave him some meat, too, and I took a moment to observe him.
Those violet eyes were now the commonly seen color of roasted meats. His hair was similar to what it was before, but longer. It wasn't short, nor was it long. Of course, I assumed he must be a he because of how well and easily he wore men's clothes. He seemed so natural in them that I wasn't sure he was truly a fox.
We then started our journey, as he insisted that the bird was in the Red King's garden. I could only listen and go along with it, because it was my only lead. He brought us along the trail and pointed out what was poisonous and what wasn't. The way he said it so casually, and the way he did everything so easily made me feel a bit inadequate.
He was such a perfect traveler, but I was just a prince. I couldn't survive a week on my own, and even that week was a stretch. I was only useful to take care of hunting and riding, as I had been taught to do with the other young noblemen as I grew. I was quite proud of my proclivity for hunting, because it helped me improve my skills quite quickly.
My eyes wandered the forest as he pointed out an edible moss to me. It took us a while to get to the first town, but he made us ride straight through instead of making camp. There were many uncomfortable nights that I experienced sleeping on the ground, and I even tried to sleep in a tree like the fox. Arpad, as I called him, seemed to laugh at me after I couldn't get comfortable.
There were times that he would just laugh at me when I did something inexperienced, but he would always patiently teach me afterwards. He wasn't trying to make fun of me, he was just someone who liked to laugh. I realised fairly quickly, though, that he was not as simple as I perceived him.
He would sometimes make decisions that were much too mature, as his eyes seemed to suggest. I liked his eyes, that were a soft violet, but he refused to show their true color to me when he was human. He took us to a beautiful city, that had plentiful food and drink. They had lovely houses and Inns and restaurants and bars.
We went into an inn that seemed particularly warm, and Arpad breathed in as he entered as if he was going home after a long day. He knew this place, I found, as he ordered a specific room and used hidden footholds to make his way to the beams on the ceiling. I put myself in the bed and fell asleep almost instantly.
I slept like a rock, and when I woke the next morning under the morning sunbeams, Arpad had a light smile on his face that seemed to always be there naturally. He was staring at the people below, observing them and how they interacted. When I sat up, he moved from his place and waited for me to start heading downstairs.
He seemed excited for something, as he directly ignored the crowd and went to the front counter. The man was saying something strange, "A beautiful Faerie, with flaming red and black hair like that of a fox! Her eyes were the most lovely and gentle purple, like the flowers of winter in the north called foxglove! She was graceful and elegant, and her skin was so clean and supple!" As he spoke of her skin, he made a curvy shape with his hands.
I didn't like the way he was describing this woman as nothing but looks, and I also noticed Arpad stiffen. I decided to have the man appraise her quickly. His next sentence made me grab Arpad's arm and pull him forward, "She looked like the fox goddess of old religions. The hair matched what I saw..." He muttered to himself.
I called out in a loud voice, so he would hear over the jeers, "My friend has hair like a fox, too, but that doesn't mean he's a fox deity!"
Arpad stiffened again and the whole crowd's eyes turned to us. I was angry at this man for speaking so vulgarly, but I was also curious if he would recognise my friend as the person. If he did maybe we could figure out this young man's intentions and add him to our group. You can never have too much help.