Just after taking my bath, I went downstairs to check my phone, hoping to find a message from Vicki with the address. I had a strong urge to save Marvel, and there was an unexplainable connection I felt towards her.
I waited for a while, but Vicki hadn't sent the address yet. It was almost past 11 pm, and I started to wonder why she was taking so long. Could something be wrong? Should I call to check on her? These thoughts crossed my mind, but I decided to hold off on calling for a little longer.
Restless, I stood up from my roller coaster chair and paced back and forth in my living room. Suddenly, my phone rang, and I hurriedly checked the caller ID, only to be disappointed. It was my granddaughter, Jasmine. I let the phone ring for a few moments before answering.
"Hello, Jasmine," I greeted her.
"Hello, Grandpa Useless," she replied. Jasmine, my favorite grandchild, was only seven years old but had a deep understanding of the importance of family. She would call once or twice a day to check on everyone, and her love for family always warmed my heart. Sometimes I wished I had a sister, brother, or even a daughter who cared for me as much as she did.
I had four half-elder brothers, including Kenneth, the first son of my father and the possible heir to the throne. Kingston was the second son and my father's favorite, resembling our grandfather in appearance. Kennard, the third child, was known for his wisdom and intuition. He was the people's choice for the future king. Kane, my immediate elder brother, was the most handsome among us but carried a deep resentment toward our mother for his existence.
As a prince, my name was Keagan, but my father always called me Useless. I couldn't say much about myself at the moment. I felt a sense of sadness being the only one left alive after so many years, but I would never forget that I was Prince Useless, the one favored by the gods.
"Jasmine, it's late, and you should be sleeping. I know there will be public holidays tomorrow, but..." I began to say, but she interrupted me.
"Early to bed, early to rise, I know, Grandpa," she finished my sentence. "Grandpa, I was expecting you yesterday as you promised. Why didn't you come?"
I giggled, touched by her innocent inquiry. "I'm sorry, my little dove. Grandpa was busy yesterday, and today I had a long day, so I couldn't stop by your house."
"Okay, when should I expect you? You haven't finished the story about the ANCIENT VAMPIRE, and you promised to tell me a new story about The Four PRINCES AND USELESS," she eagerly asked. Before I could reply, I heard her mother's voice in the background, scolding her to sleep. I didn't even get a chance to say goodnight before the call ended.
Taking a deep breath, I felt my cheeks turn slightly pink. The love of a child could turn even the most boring and frustrating day into a sweet one. How I wished I had known my grandfather. I was told he died at the age of 62, a prudent, honest, and brave man. He passed away after sustaining injuries from a war against the monster tribes. He left behind one daughter and one son.
His son, Prince Kansas, my father, later became king after the death of his sister, Princess Seff, the warrior princess who fought alongside her father and fell in battle against the monster tribes. Rumors suggested that my grandfather's death was due to the shock of losing his daughter and not the injury he sustained
Turning away from my phone, I heard it beep. I rushed back to check and saw a message from Victoria.
"Here is the address. Make sure you come back to me alive. If you encounter any difficulties, call me for help. Take care, my buddy."
I chuckled, dropping the phone on the shelf. I went back to my bedroom and brought out a wooden box from under my dresser. Dust covered it, and I quickly dusted it off and opened it. I have had this box with me all my life. It's my most precious possession – my late mother's box. It contains the only belongings of hers that were given to me. Inside it, I kept my royal armor, the same armor I wore hundreds of years ago, and a magical sword that was used thousands of years before I was born.
I kept precious belongings inside it, some collected from loved ones and some from fights I have won.
While dusting the armor, a piece of the emblem fell off. I squinted my eyes to take a closer look.
"Wow, I have been looking for you everywhere," I said to myself as I crouched down to pick it up. It brought back memories, and tears rolled down my face. It has been over 200 years, but it still feels like yesterday.
How painful it is not to see a dear one after they die. I wiped my face with a royal cloth after wearing my armor. I placed the box back, planting a kiss on it. I have this feeling that today is my last day on earth, and if I must die today, it must be in a place where I am most powerful – the sea.
Surrounded by water is a shipping yard, fenced with barbed wire and iron gates, with security cameras everywhere. It seems almost impossible to get through the gates as guards pace back and forth, left and right.
"There must be a way to pass these guards without being spotted," I thought to myself, looking around for a solution. Then I saw a fishing van approaching me. I hurriedly rushed in and knocked the driver out, making sure he doesn't regain consciousness in time. I had to freeze his hands and feet to the floor.
I quickly drove towards the gate. Upon reaching the gate, there was a checkpoint where the drivers would be checked and the truck inspected before entering the shipping yard. I was asked to turn off the engine and turn on the interior light, which I did with much tension.
One of the officers asked for my clearance document. It was not difficult to find as it was already placed on the dashboard of the truck. I handed him the file containing the clearance ID. Unbeknownst to me, the driver was a French man. The guard saw his name and recognized it, speaking in French, "D'où venez-vous et où est votre carte d'identité?" (Where are you coming from and where is your ID card?)
I was confused at first; I didn't understand French. "What did you say?" I mumbled. With a frown on his face, he asked again, this time in English, "Where is your ID card?" I got scared. 'It must be in the driver's pocket, shit!' I thought to myself. The question came again, and this time, the other guards approached us with their guns and torchlight, wondering about the delay.
I opened the pigeonholes and saw an ID card. Without wasting further time, I handed it to him without checking if the name matched the one on the clearance paper or if the photo matched my face. Luckily for me, the gods were on my side. The image on the ID card was old and in black and white.
He handed the ID card back, and I said, "Thank you," wearing a warm smile. However, he looked at me suspiciously and asked why I was wearing armor. I quickly came up with a response, "Oh, it's for a historical reenactment event we're having. We're honoring our ancestors who were warriors, and I wanted to pay tribute to them."
"No, it's not yet Halloween," he said with a serious look.
I smiled even more and replied, "Well, in our tradition, we have a special day to remember our ancestors, and it's not necessarily on Halloween. Today happens to be that day for us, and we wear our ancestral clothes to show respect and ward off any family bad luck. It's an important tradition for me."
He still seemed skeptical of my explanation. "Wait here," he said firmly. He jumped down and took my clearance paper inside the security room for further verification. My heart started racing faster than before. I felt like my plans were being jeopardized by the guard, who was taking his job too seriously in the middle of the night. I had hoped to drive in peacefully without any investigation. Each time another guard approached the truck, I plastered on a fake smile, hoping to maintain a façade of innocence.