NIGHTMARES OF THE PAST
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Residential Bed Chamber of the Second Crown Prince,
The Western Wing of the Imperial Castle,
Capital City of Tronder,
Kingdom of Velicia,
Early hours of the morning,
The Eighth Day of the Month of November,
Thirty Third Year of the Reign of King Jesse Crestings
The hour was early, but the sun had already risen to the skies, showing that it was past the time one should duly wake up.
Prince Rayzenn Crestings awoke in cold sweat, with a throbbing head ache commanding his senses. He held a hand over his hot temples as he sat up in bed and looked around the haze of a vision that composed the contents of his richly furnished chamber, breathing heavily.
He was lost in the trance between a dream and reality, the way one would feel after being awoken harshly whilst in the middle of a nightmare. It had been a terrible episode that he was experiencing every night, his sleep plagued by recollections of the news of his mother's death from years ago.
Because the affair had been a murder, the idea that his mother could still have been alive and the pain she must have endured in her last moments would haunt him every night. The way physicians had flocked in research over her body that had returned from the Celeste Clan and had found that she had been choked to a brutal death.
Since birth, he had been excessively close to her and had built a fair share of memories that could not be dissolved at the prospect of her sudden demise.
His father, King Jesse Crestings, had always been mildly sick, and further engaged with royal duties during the hours he was not under rest and medication. He was a kind and gentle father, but not a man with much time for love and family, be-cause he had to bear the weights of both crown and sickness.
His mother had been a competent queen, providing for her sons what they lacked in love and discipline and also in handling journeys to the farther provinces of the Kingdom.
One such had been the fatal occasion of her meeting with the Celeste Clan, after years of cold wars, where the Queen herself paid them a personal visitation for reconciliation.
It had been as per plan that Rayzenn would accompany her as well, for he had been seventeen and his mother had wished for him to see a worthy young damsel to be betrothed to in the tribe of healers. But he had found an excuse to slip out of the journey and was left to receive only her blooded mortals and a lifetime of regret and grief that he had failed to be there for her in her last excruciating moments.
Now, guilt never failed to cripple him. It had been ten years since the murder of the royal lady, at the hands of a clan marked for healing. And yet, Rayzenn had not healed the slightest from their doings.
His dreams still contained news of his mother's death since ten years here to fore. His brother had been two decades and year old at such time, betrothed to the Princess of their neighbouring Kingdom. The word of their mother's passing had been brutal on the brothers, but Prince Francis had his fiancée's company and letters to soothe him, while Rayzenn had been left to mourn by himself.
His recovery had not come, for even that very night, he had dreamt of his mother's spirit haunting his castle, calling his name, knocking his walls and asking him to join her on her embarks to the Celeste Village and for vengeance or reconciliation.
There was no point in avenging her death, for the entire clan had died at the fangs of the beastly hounds shortly after the murder. And further, he knew that in fair judgement, his mother was not the kind of soul that would wish for revenge, but would probably have forgiven her killers.
But the nightmares did not cease.
Once his consciousness was within his dominion, and the morning had settled into his room, he recognised the sound of his butler knocking at the door and calling his name.
"Weston", the young Prince called back, raking his dishevelled, dark hair back with his hands.
"Your Majesty, the Regent Queen requires your presence at the Banquet for breakfast", the butler informed, holding his poise.
"I will be in attendance", Rayzenn said, voice still dripping with drowse, yet authority.
He was tempted to roll back into the folds of his bed and succumb to slumber, but his royal duties would not allow such misbehaviour. After all, there was already a grand amount of tension in the imperial castle regarding his reluctance towards marriage. The last thing he could afford was more issues of misconduct mounted against his crown.
Further, sleeping again would only call back the nightmares he was desperate to avoid. He was accustomed to scheduling most of his duties and outdoor errands to the nightly hours in order to hold them away.
The Prince rose from his perch at the edge of his bed and knelt by the rim, for a moment of prayer. He was far too spent to be proceeding with the new day, after barely sleeping a proper amount of rest the previous night.
However, there was a curious sort of energy and excitement he had that morning, for going about that day. It was probable that he felt the exhilaration colouring his cheeks due to a certain chance encounter during the previous night's duties.
The prince began to freshen up to be presentable for all that would await his schedule. Then, before stepping out of his chambers, for a brief moment, he cast a quick glance at his reflection on the vanity:
He made a brisk gentleman of tall stature, robust build, slick long and jet black hair tied at his nape, passive green eyes with dark rings beneath them for lack of sleep. Those were signs of tiredness testifying that he had spent nights in both duty and sport of his choice.
Then, resuming his calm poise, he pushed the doors and their curtains and made his way down the castle's hallways and staircases towards the Banquet hall. His men would be outside, waiting for his call so they could set out.
But before that, Prince Rayzenn knew that the Regent Queen wished to have a word with him, if she was waiting so patiently past breakfast hours to meet him, as Weston had mentioned.
Shortly after the Queen's throne was empty ten years ago, Aunt Eliza, his father's sister, a woman that had abdicated queenship, renouncing her claim on the throne, at a young age for reason of her early widowhood, had returned to their land to fill the position of a godmother, although she was hopelessly lacking.
The young Prince had always taken to care for her the way he would his mother, but there were attributes he could not overlook. Everything she asked of him to do had been excited by good intentions, but she was a woman of character that would force her wishes on his life by provoking it to happen as per her will.
She would not pay heed to his reasons or his emotions in the matters. It was solely the fair intentions for his future that she held that she would be concerned about.
And if Aunt Eliza had a moment of conversation she wished to have with him, the dark haired young man knew that he needed to be careful.
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