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Diary of a Hunter Prince
Part One
Being
the Tenth Day of the Blossom Time
Dear
small book given to me on the beginning of my seventeenth year in
this Third World,
So
what exactly is the point of a diary? My life is one of sharp weapons
and arrows. Since there is no particular war for me to enlist in, I
mostly go hunting. I prefer hunting the great cats of the desert as
there happens to be much more sport there. But anyway something
important came up soon after my big brother Zeno gave me this small
and completely unassuming little book. He gave one to Verek and
Deborah too. They happen to be my triplets. I am the oldest, then
Deborah and last of all Verek. I am the seventh child of King Maldirk
of the Glittering Island. But I am sure that is quite enough
introduction, it is time to get onto some important topics. Mainly
marriage. Now do not misunderstand me, marriage is a subject I
loathe. The older I get the more I try not to think about it.
Speaking of marriage, Zeno is married to Giselladona of Sandstorm
Lodge. They have a small mousy bit of a child. Not the most handsome
of children either. But he is directly in line for the throne of
Glittering Island so that is something in his favor. My sister Anne
is engaged to be married to the richest prince in all the Third
World. Prince Philip of Kildimere. We have yet to meet him. Most of
us have agreed that we will hate him. Poor Anne. But more on that in
a little bit. My second oldest brother, Yaron, is married to Alia of
Graystark. She is a fine lady and owns an island. My second oldest
sister, Beatrice, is yet unmarried and does not seem to have much of
a chance. But I totally understand that. She is the worst shrew to
have walked on the surface of the Third World. My third brother,
Xander, was presumed dead for half a year, then one day my dear
Verek, brought him home with a wife. A princess Anastasia. She is
quite charming. That is if you like to suck lemons. My third sister,
who also happens to be adopted, was married twice in her sixteenth
year. That seems to be overdoing it a bit, but how would I know. Her
name is Cassandra. We never see her anymore. But to hear the full
story you would have to ask Zeno, or Yaron or Xander, but they never
told me. Anyway, none of my younger siblings are married. But I
should mention that father disowned Fiona for not being a boy. Also
my littlest brother Terek, was kidnapped and my littlest sister Greda
ran away to find him. That was many years ago. But I may have
accidentally gone on with the introductions. What I meant to say was,
I started writing in this journal so I would not forget to tell
Deborah and Verek a single tiny incident of my trip. Yes, I Waylan of
the Glittering Island am going on a journey. It all started when the
ambassador of Kildimere came to see father about wedding arrangements
for poor Anne. Somehow or other, we got talking. One would never
think that a fop like him could have anything in common with me. He
was a tall perfectly dressed man with curled golden hair. Golden hair
is uncommon in the Third World. But there are some strains of it in
my own family. My hair is plain brown, thankfully. Anyway, Ambassador
Grant loves hunting. I happened to mention lions and he started
talking about the wonderful Crocodile Hunts in Kildimere. By the time
he had finished describing it, I was determined to have a Crocodile
skin cape for my wardrobe. I am not much into clothes, but I strongly
desired one of those articles.
“Your
royal highness.” Grant cried, “I would be greatly pleased if you
would return to Kildimere with me, and hunt the sacred Crocodiles in
the wonder hunt.” I said yes without even thinking of obtaining
father's permission. But in the end it hardly mattered, Madra thought
it was a splendid idea. Not the hunt, but that I was going to the
Capitol of Kildimere. She wanted to know what Prince Philip was like.
I think Madra was more concerned with Anne's happiness, whereas,
father was eager to obtain the wealth that the marriage would offer.
Anyway. I shall soon leave for Kildimere.
Happy
Birthday and many passing regards to myself, Deborah and Verek,
Myself
Being
the Fifteenth Day of the Blossom Time
Dear
Small book,
Few
can name worse fates than being draped over the splintering rail of a
ship, while heaving their insides out. I spent the entire voyage to
Kildimere in such a manner. It is no joke starving either. For starve
I must, since none of my food would stay where I put it. Ships
clearly had not been works of the good. They are the worst torture
devices in all the Third World. They go up and down, up and down,
until your insides are thoroughly churned. Once your insides have
been destroyed, your stomach rejects the rot and spits it out. At
least that is as good of a guess as I could come up with. My first
view of Kildimere was not very clear as my eyes were watering and I
could not stop retching. Grant stood at my side and patted me on the
back while describing it. He did not seem to understand that I had no
wish to hear about it in my present condition.
“Those
are the jeweled watch towers, forerunners of the Capitol.” Grant
cried, “Look over yonder my prince.”
“Mmmph.”
I gagged.
“The
beacon on the torch of the Neptune is always lit.” Grant continued,
“See the statue is built of solid gold and stands exactly twenty
yards tall. One of the finest wonders of the Third World. It is most
spectacular in the night. It lights up the entire harbor. During
celebrations and festivals the Druids will release floating lanterns
and exploding fire from the crown. It is surely a sight to see. One
day you must come for the Midsummer Dream Festival.”
“Blug.”
I choked.
“Ah,
yes.” Grant sighed, “All the girls wear white robes and pink
flowers in their hair. The boys all wear blue and wear leaf cone
crowns. Ahh... the dancing goes on all night under the star showers.
His majesty used to attend the festival, now-” Grant hesitated,
“Anyway, it does not matter. It is still a sight worth seeing.” I
lifted up my head.
“Wh-why
doesn't he attend anymore?” I asked thickly, my curiosity piqued.
“Oh
look, the Steward's Gondola.” Grant cried, either not hearing my
question, or ignoring it. But I failed to see the Gondola, whatever
it was. I was in considerable pain, attempting to stay upright.
Regards,
Myself
Being
the Seventeenth Day of the Blossom Time
Dear
Little Book,
Today
I felt much better and finally pulled myself out of the bed I had
spent all of yesterday in. I was eager to explore the city. I had
never been away from the Glittering Island before. I was curious to
know what a foreign city looked like. I was less pleased with my
costume. Apparently the people of Kildimere slept in long thin sky
blue dresses embroidered with gold thread in the shape of flowers. I
felt stupid. But nevertheless I pushed open the door and found myself
on a little balcony. There was a garden below the balcony. Red and
green vines hung off of walls and pillars. Strange flowers and bushes
lined the walks. Over the wall I could barely make out strange
pointed rooftops. It was indeed a strange place. But I wanted to get
out beyond that wall and see the city. Certainly the garden was
foreign enough. We did not have a lot of gardens in the Glittering
City. They were a thing for peasants to grow food in. Suddenly, the
door burst open and Grant entered, followed by a smallish boy of
perhaps six or seven summers.
“Ah-ha,
the prince of Glittering Island is awake.” Grant cried. He was
wearing a long tunic that fell past his knees. A tasseled sash was
tied around his waist. A curved knife hung in the sash. His
pantaloons were puffed out around his ankles and his red slippers had
curled toes. He wore a little silver cap on his blond hair. The boy
was wearing a similar outfit, except his feet were bear.
“Do
I got to dress like that?” I asked in horror. Foreigners were
awfully strange.
“I
assure you that this is the height of fashion.” Grant chuckled, he
pushed the boy towards me, “This is Hugo, he will be your slave
while you stay in Kildimere.” I scowled. I was independent and did
not approve of slaves no matter what my father thought. I figured
they were for lazy people. It is one thing paying a poor person to do
the work, but why would you let someone do it for free. Surely the
slaves had opinions. Hugo brought me my own clothes, much to my
relief. But then I had a hard time getting rid of him. He seemed to
think that he should be helping me get dressed. No one has ever
dressed me in their life and believe me, they will not be starting
now, no sir! But finally I got dressed and Hugo took me down a ten
foot wide staircase with carved rails. Huge tapestries of bloody
scenes hung along the walls. The room Hugo took me too was so big,
that it would probably take me ten minutes to run it's length. At one
end in the center was massive red and gold tapestry. Two enormous
thrones carved out of marble stood in front of the tapestry. The Left
throne was occupied by a tall man with long black hair. He was
dressed in fine court armor. A naked scimitar lay on his lap. A
jagged iron crown adorned his head. He was wearing a magnificent
golden chains and many flashing rings. So this was the much feared
and respected King Rushamorn of Kildimere. Grant was standing beside
the throne, whispering something in the King's ear. Rushamorn turned
his gaze towards me. I could feel the bite in his eyes, even though
he was so far away. Hugo poked me in the back.
“The
King.” he hissed. I would rather have been walking away from
Rushamorn, nevertheless I took a deep breath and strode towards the
throne.
“Welcome
to the Capitol, son of the Glittering Island.” Rushamorn said in a
cold clear voice. It was not very loud but it still seemed to pierce
me. I made up my mind that I was in the presence of evil.
“Your
grace.” I said with a Glittering Island style bow, “I thank thee
for allowing me to come to your amazing city.” I told myself I was
not flattering Rushamorn. The city was amazing, but that was hardly
Rushamorn's fault.
“You
please our person.” Rushamorn said coldly, “What request do you
desire while you stay in our city?”
“I
would be delighted to take a tour of the city?” I said.
“So
be it.” Rushamorn said, sounding like someone who was talking at a
funeral, “Tomorrow you shall enjoy the sights of our beautiful
city.”
Regards,
Myself
To Be Continued
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