Leron woke up all alone in the Crescentian Palace, ball and chain still attached to his foot.
"Vladstin." His voice was scratchy and hoarse, and his throat hurts so much. "Vladstin!"
But the Vampire Lord who kept him hostage was gone.
Prince Leron dragged himself up, tripping several times due to his weak body and the metal ball restraining his legs. He persevered and kept walking towards the Crescentian Looking Glass, clasping the side of his neck near his collarbone with two new puncture holes and dried-up blood.
He was a mess, even his handsomeness could not fix his chaotic look. His dark hair was in disarray, his clothes tattered and grimy. He was starving and thirsty, and he was even more ghostly pale than before. The vampirism infection became stronger, all his bodily function was sluggish and his pulse beating slow.
Through sheer willpower, he managed to reach to the Looking Glass. The mist was still not dissipating. He hoped this means it could still work, because he is not sure if it only accepts Vladstin's blood or if it would also accept his.
"Show me.... Vladstin." He told the round mirror.
The image shifted from his reflection to the smiling face of a young boy. The child had sharp incisors, making him look particularly troublesome and mischievous. But he had a bright, sunny smile that made him appear as someone who has good intentions. He really was kind, he just likes to have fun and play tricks. He was sitting on a carriage, whistling a familiar tribal tune, his platinum hair swaying from the breeze outside the window.
This was the young Vladstin.
"No..." Prince Leron grasped at the mirror. "That is not what I meant. I want to see the Vladstin of the present...."
But the Looking Glass did not listen, and continued showing the scene of the young Prince of Crescentia.
"Where are we off to, mother and father?" He was kicking his feet up and down from his seat, excited. "Are we going to the Gisonblix Waterfalls? Have a picnic on the Turpentine Woods? Go hunting for rabbits?"
The mother and father that he was referring to had the same platinum hair and golden eyes.
"It's always with you and the rabbits." His father, the king sitting on his left, ruffled his hair.
"I love rabbits. Especially black ones, they're really rare. I want to have them as a pet, can I? Can I?" Young Prince Vladstin pursed his lips and pleaded.
"You know how much rabbits repopulate, they are going to litter the whole palace." The queen reminded him. "We have visitors all the time, we can't have them stepping on rabbit poo, won't we?"
"Hehehe, that would be really funny!" Prince Vladstin laughed.
His father chuckled too. "I agree."
"Lazar...." The queen said testily, giving the king a warning look.
"What, my darling Vanesda?" King Lazar straightened his queen's shawl, smiling sheepishly.
"Don't darling me!" Queen Vanesda of Crescentia scolded her own king. "It's because of your toleration that Vladi is growing to be such a hooligan. You should be teaching him good manners and to be benevolent to people."
"But our Vladstin is benevolent. He just likes having harmless fun, he is a child!" King Lazar waved away her worries, kissing her on the cheek. "You're a good boy deep inside, aren't you, my son?"
"Yep!" Vladstin replied. "I'm really good! I always help the needy when I see them. Can't I get a small reward for being good?"
"Not until you stop playing tricks to others." Queen Vanesda pinched her child's small, button nose. "And I'd rather you have a friend than a pet. Do you not like playing with the orphans that I introduced to you?"
"Nah, they're all great, it's just that...." Prince Vladstin fiddled with a stray thread from his shirt. "They're either older or younger than me. No one was my age or shares my interest."
"What would catch your interest?" His father poked him. "You are always changing your mind like the seasonal winds."
"Hmm...." Prince Vladstin thought carefully, rubbing his small, chubby chin. "If they're as cute as a rabbit, I might be interested in them!"
The King of Crescentia had a regal yet approachable aura, similar to his child. Even in his 40s, he maintained his good looks and strong vigor. His features were only the sharper side, and people might mistake him as cruel, but they would soon realize that this was far from the case. The Queen of Crescentia has a softer face yet you could tell from her stiff posture that she has a strict personality. Even so, once you get on her good side, she will soften up to you.
Vladstin was a perfect mixture of these traits. He has most of his mother's features and most of his father's personality.
The coach suddenly came to a halt.
"Help! Someone help me, please!"
The coachman quickly pulled at the reins and the horses neighed as the carriage came to a halt. The royal family inside was shaken, and the king held his son and wife protectively.
"What is the matter, Darex?" King Lazar demanded.
"There is a child on the middle of the road, Your Majesty!" Darex pointed his index finger towards the child lying on the dirt tracks.
Prince Leron now remembers this scene. This was the day of his 'exile'.
"Help me, please...." He watched his own younger self beg while curled up and rolling in the middle of the road. "I am so hungry and thirsty.... I can't walk anymore...."
The young Prince Leron was wearing a royal uniform with adornments made for a young noble, yet it was tattered and soiled. Dirt and grime had turned his white overcoat into ashen gray, and he himself looked like he had been rolling in dirt for days. He was wearing a single shoe. His beautiful raven hair was a mess and his upturned eyes made him look pitiful.
But this appearance was meticulously arranged all according to the Ilvedian king's plan. He never really walked for miles even though he looked like he did, he was dropped exactly at that spot to wait for the royal carriage to approach him. Then, the young Prince Leron used his acting skills and force himself to cry and wallow.
"Oh, you poor boy!" Queen Vanesda rushed to his side, her shawl with colorful patterns getting caught in the wind. "Who would leave a small child on his own here? Where are your parents?"
"My father.... exit...exer.... exa..." To the Crescentians, they thought the young Prince Leron couldn't remember the word, or he was too dizzy from the heat to remember it.
"Do you mean exiled, my boy?" King Lazar asked. "Are you a royal?"
"Yes...." Prince Leron lifted a brooch he was clutching with his small fingers. "I'm a prince...."
King Lazar took the brooch with the top view of a dragon on it, spreading its wings in a T shape.
"Ilvedia...." Queen Vanesda wrinkled her forehead when she saw the symbol.
Ilvedia had been Crescentia's enemy for thousands of years.
They had invaded Crescentia when it was still a tribe unaware of how the more refined society works. They had Crescentia under the palm of their hands for many centuries until the people fought back and reclaimed their nation, becoming an independent kingdom. They do not bear hard feelings and have forgiven Ilvedia, but they are aware of how envious the recent lineage of monarchs was of them.
Crescentia was near seas and mountains, making it rich in natural resources. Ilvedia also has them, but not as abundant. More importantly, Crescentia has many minerals and precious gems.
"Who is he?" Vladstin stepped out from the carriage, looking at the small child.
When the young Vladstin stepped out, he couldn't help but feel dazzled by the Crescentian prince's sudden appearance.
He had never seen such a shock of pure white hair before, and a prince his age that looked so refined. Vladstin has bow-shaped lips that made it look pouty whenever he was not smiling. He may not have an intimidating presence yet like his father, but his emotions were displayed raw in his face all the time, so you could easily tell if you have upset him.
"The Prince of Ilvedia." King Lazar said.
Prince Leron did not know what he was thinking at that time of an impressionable age. Surely, he knew about his kingdom's history with Ilvedia, his tutors had probably taught it to him by now.
He must have prejudice with him, knowing he was the son of the enemy.
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