I should have known not to go.
By the time I had actually arrived at the lavish tent, I realized I did not want to see him. My father had called upon his personal guard to fetch me, ordering them to say it was a mandatory command. In reality, the madman merely wanted to talk.
I could feel the eyes of his guards observing my every move as he sat me down. The old captive Ravenman we had caught all those days ago had now been turned to a servant. Tired and clearly brimming with fear, he poured tea for my cup and ale for my father's cup. That was, until my father snatched the entire bottle all for himself. Disgusting.
"I underestimated you," my father began after chugging down half the bottle. "You are perfect for this endeavor. You are a wonderful asset to this army."
"I try my best." Perhaps it was smart to just nod. What was smart to do in this case?
My father looked at me with a grin. "You proved more worthy than that of your brother. If only he could see you now." His tone was almost concerned, but there was always something... odd.
"He was a proud warrior," I replied, trying my best to keep my tears in check. "I am not a proud warrior, father. A wise strategist, maybe, but not a warrior."
My father was absent to my emotions. That was lucky. "Oh, but you are. I hear from everybody of their admiration to your... leadership." He said it as if he despised it. "After all, you are a son of the great new king!" The man laughed. It seemed he was almost proud of me.
For a split second, I had let out a small smile as I tried to keep it all inside. He's a madman, remember that he's wrong!
"I appreciate, it father, but I must keep going-"
"Oh, but what for?" Father's eyes began to glimmer. His teeth were now exposed as his gentle smile turned to a creepy grin. "We need to drink and feast for this occasion. It's about time you learned the ways of Strix ruling."
With a snap of a finger, the old man approached the table, each shaking hand carrying a cup of wine. He seemed more distraught than he was earlier, looking me straight into my eyes with a look of... fear.
As the old man had set my cup down, my father's had tipped over, spilling over his gown that he wore.
"I apologize, your grace-"
"You useless old geezer!" The hands of my father had struck the old man's cheek, sending the frail man to the floor. "Take him away! And give a damn blanket!"
Immediately, the guards came to take the old man away. As quick as he could, he had slipped to my feet a piece of torn parchment from his pockets as he was dragged away. He did not resist. It was soon that I would hear the cracks of whips... but there were no yells nor cries.
By that point, my father had left to fetch himself a napkin as he no longer had a servant. By then, I carefully bent over and picked up the note.
Do not drink.
Why would I not drink it? It was wine from the barrels nearby-- the finest of wine we could find --and it was deemed safe by the old man himself.
An outline of ink seemed to seep through the parchment. As I turned it around to see what was written, every hair in my body had raised and stood in fear.
Poison.
My eyes widened as the worst scenario was in fact confirmed. I would die if I drank it. Even if I hadn't met the man before, I knew he was just as spiteful to my father as any man and that he was bound to truth more than any man would be. As quick as I could, I crumpled up the piece of paper and kept it in my pockets before father had returned.
"I am so sorry for that unfortunate... slip." His tone was was beginning to slip as well, as the excitement of killing me began to seep through. "Where was I? Oh, right! We shall drink for your success, my boy!"
With a gentle motion, he carried his cup to the air. I carried mine to play along, trying to lower his guard. My eyes were fixated on him and him only as he looked upon me with a sinister grin. Finally, his eyes began to glow red.
"Cheers to my son!"
As he drank his cup, I took mine to my lips.
Before he could put his cup down, I threw the cup at his head. He stumbled and fell to the ground as I made my way to the exit of the tent. His guards remained busy taking the old man away, and here was my only chance to survive.
I rushed out of the tent, my heart beating out of my chest as I heard my father's yell for his guards to chase me down, claiming I had tried to murder him. I made my way past the barrels of wine as I pushed off the bottom barrel to block their path.
Left, right, another right, then a left. My mind had been driven to panic already as I passed the tents of napping soldiers, their slumber suddenly disturbed by the yells of men.
After that, I had finally lost them, only for a moment, and I continued to run, heading straight to my tent and taking whatever I could on a small pouch as I hurriedly ran to the woods nearby, taking with me nothing but a sword, a pouch of gold heads, and three loaves of bread.
In the distance, I could see nothing but flickers of light from the torches amidst the dark night headed my way with a man's stern voice leading them all. he howled orders at them that made my spine chill. The command "Find the traitor and slit his throat!" filled the air as they got closer.
I did not know these forests, but this was my remaining sanctuary left to survive. I could never return to the camp. I would die if I did. I have no other choice now but to move in deeper until I could find a village.
The gold would only last me a few days. I needed to find aid. It was like an irony to my very identity: A born son of a traitor hailed as a prince now wanders the forests searching for his enemy's aid. if anybody were to identify me, I'd be dead as well.
I am no longer a prince. I am no longer a warrior. I am but a boy sent to exile.
Hours before...
I heard far too much already.
By the time I had entered that tent, they had already stopped their dialogue. There he was in the flesh-- the Rebel King and his guard --both with their voices low and in a whisper.
"Do you have what I asked you to bring?"
"Yes, your grace," the soldier replied, taking from his pockets a vial of liquid with a green tint.
The king examined it, taking in a sniff as he grinned in approval. "Where did you get such a rare liquid, soldier?"
"The Ravenman's old books, just as you told me."
"You returned those books, soldier? Just as I told you?"
The soldier nodded in response. "Yes, your grace."
The king's smirk was subtle but quite noticeable. He set the vial down on the table as he moved ever closer to his shelf of wine. By this point, our supply was already low, not because of the men, but because of his nights chugging a bottle of wine down his throat. It still struck me at the time. What would he use it for? Who would he use it for?
"And another thing," the king began. "Bring me that old man. I will need someone to blame in any case they find this act... disloyal."
The soldier gave only a nod as he made his way to the tent's exit. I had already gone away a great distance from the tent to make sure I was not caught. If anything, I wanted to find a way out. I stepped over barrels and feces on my way, making sure not to be seen by the guards that partolled the area.
I did not use lanterns, nor did I light myself a bright torch. I used only the light of the moon that shined above us all-- blue and majestic, partnered with the subtle sounds of men's chatter. Left, right, right, and left again, my mind remarked as I gathered my courage to move into the forest. By the time I reached the first line of trees, something had urged me to stop.
"I cannot." My voice was frail and my lungs deteriorated from the physical strain. My mind fought against my heart. Then I remembered him again-- the boy at the hall. The boy will be poisoned. Either way, I will be blamed for the deed, I thought to myself.
I hesitated for longer.
"The boy will die if I leave him alone." My heart went with my code of ethics rather than what my brain would've done. Run, it would've said.
I hesitated again, but not before taking another step.
Much longer and he will die, my heart began. "He doesn't deserve to... he is but a child with an evil father," I muttered, my eyes gazing at the dimly lit camp behind me. "Just how I was an awful father to my own."
Hesitated more... I no longer did.
I turned around to see what would become my grave. Each step felt as if my body became heavier. The world seemed to not only shake but also warp the closer I got to my doom. My hearing was muffled, with the voices of the men around me turning into gibberish. Even the very command of the soldier I saw to follow him to the King's tent was almost inaudible for me. I already knew what he wanted.
Closer. They dragged me by the arm towards the tent hurriedly. Closer. My senses had already begun to heal, and my vision was clearer. Here. At last, I arrived at where I needed to be... where I should have been a long time ago.
I was never a great father to my own son... and now it is too late to be one to my boy. Death hath separated us a long time already. Now I must meet with my young boy in paradise and save the last hope of this wretched house...
I do not desire freedom any longer, for what does a man gain with freedom when the guilt and regret wallows in his heart? Now I have personified this very question I asked the Ballister prince on our meeting... and here I am now... living by my own tongue.
Even now as I lay on a wooden floor, my back splintered and my body exposed to the open and bleeding, I manage to form a smile. Now you no longer need to fear, my mind began, for your duties are now complete.
I stare up into the sky, blocking out the remaining noises of the night as my ears are only filled with silence. The dark sky of the night would've looked as depressing as it always was, but tonight? Tonight was different. The sky was lit by the moon, and the stars with it. Her shine reminded me of one of the only things that comforted me: a simple verse from the book I used to read:
Little dove, little dove, fly high little dove
Your days are great but near
May the moon give its shine all the stars there in the sky
Your eyes now filled with tears
Thus has come, little dove, when your wings are gone
Your honor great and strong
Now I say my final words, the same as what the moon reminded me of. I take in my last breath and let it out, my eyes remaining open as I admire the skies, waiting for the gods to take me to paradise.