Prince Edmund

At the darkest hour, I take my gaze towards the sky. The night is concealed, even the moon seems to be under tempestuous clouds. The insects make their music, as a breeze chills my being. The cold itchy grass I lay on seems to make me shiver even more. I’m anxious for Frank’s arrival which should be any moment now. If all goes well.

I guess I feel this way for I know this is the calm before the storm. Regardless of what happens tonight, I will be forever changed.

It’s a scary thought, but tonight is inevitable. I have planned it for years; I have craved this very moment. It feels like today I’ve finally found the path that was meant for me, I feel like my hands and my fate coexist.

And I know that tonight specifically is the night, the stars have shown me that. To the point where my planning and contemplation was all futile, as it is being handed to me on a silver platter. I told Frank just a few days prior to let me know whenever he gets a letter for the King (being he is his courier). But who would have known that a letter of seemingly upmost importance arrived from our spies centered in Edessa. A letter that my father specifically told Frank to bring to him the second he received it, which excuses entering his chambers in the middle of the night. The whole Kingdom is visiting Hypnos, the stage has never been set grander.

If there truly is a divine, if there truly is a purpose for us to exist. A reason that actually means something; that makes us mean something. Then this night is mine, it was written by something higher than us and I am just following my destiny. Otherwise, it is all naught, all of it.

Rustling of leaves and branches alert me up, as I pull my dagger out of its hidden sheath. Frank pops out, smacking the branches around him creating unnecessary commotion.

“Edmund, Edmund I have the letter!” he says much too loud. He waves it at me, as I see its manila envelope and its giant red royal seal.

“Shut up Frank, you’re going to wake up the whole castle.”

“Right, right sorry. I am just excited; your father has been talking about and anticipating this letter for weeks. I wonder just what it can be.”

“Yeah, I get that but if it’s so important we should be quiet. I don’t think the King want’s every human in a kilometer radius to know.”

“Your right, your right got it. I can do discrete.”

“But you know I’m also just so nervous, about going to the King’s chambers at this hour. I don’t even know what to expect” he adds.

“It will be fine; I don’t see him at this time much either, or at least for the past few years. We will just do it together.”

He grabs my shoulder with his large hands, a bursting smile laid over his face.

“Thanks for coming you know; I feel a lot better since you will be there. But how come, you never seem interested in my duties before?”

“I am not really; it’s just this letter seems to be big. I want to be there with my father. I want him to seek my wisdom, and I want to prove myself to him.”

“You will Edmund, and the King is already so proud of you. He has nothing to worry about, the Kingdom will be in good hands one day. He knows that, everyone does.”

I offer him a smile back alongside a nod, as we exit my courtyard and walk through the large halls of the castle. I feel the eyes of the each painting we walk by beaming on my back, along with the knight statues which for the first time seem menacing.

I am letting my fears get the best of me, my irrationality is just a byproduct of that. But my fears are by no means doubt, uncertainty is the one thing I don’t have rushing through me right now. With each step I take, I am just that much closer to destiny, to my eternal victory. It can be overwhelming though, which is perfectly normal.

It’s a part of being human, we have these limits on our skills and our ambitions. They all have a hour glass on them, and useless internal foes. It’s what separates us from the gods, and when one loses sight of this fact, then one loses themselves. All the intelligence and cunningness they

possess, all that they were once were is reduced to nothing. Power, greed, lust, things such as that can corrupt one and those who fall prey to them shall always face their demise. But sometimes it is inevitable, and that is what makes it all so harrowing.

Tonight is no night for this, my days of a thinker mean nothing now. All they have done is dissuade me from the path I am on, and I shall not let them any longer.

Whatever guards we see let us pass easily as Frank waves them off with the letter, and the fact he is alongside the Prince makes us all the more harmless. We get to the front of the Chamber doors, as 2 top rank royal guards stand in front with their weapons pointed at us. Frank seems a little uneasy, but they do this as a formality more than anything. If they thought something was actually a threat then 100 soldiers would be here before anyone even got to them.

They open the doors, as we enter the sitting room where 3 beautiful young maids sit, ready to do their job even at this time. Two of them get up and leave towards the King’s chambers, seemingly to let him know of our presence while the other brings us wine. I politely refuse, as Frank accepts his glass pink faced even before drinking.

We take a seat, until the two maids return as they say the King will be out shortly. Me and Frank get up, as we expect the meeting to occur in his throne room like every other meeting.

“No, your highness, your majesty has declared for the meeting to happen right here. He said the letter is of upmost urgency, and he wants to read it right now. It can officially happen with his advisors afterwards.

“Oh, okay” Frank says after bowing back to the maids as they leave.

I feel something crack inside of me, like the first topple of a domino, or like the first wrong step on ice. This wasn’t part of my plan; this room is too intimate. It has too many memories, too much worldly attachment.

How can I do it in the very room I was raised in. My mother will see it too, she will see it with her own eyes.

I can’t do it anymore, not like this. The price is far too heavy, and the reward as grand as it is cannot heal the hole this will create. Frank urges me forward, as we sit down again on one of the larges sofas. He seems tense too, but he does not have the eye of the storm in him like I do.

Just what do I do?

I must be patient for another day, but this was supposed to be the one. The fated encounter, the inevitable triumph. It doesn’t matter if the setting has changed, I will do it all the same. But can I? I can say whatever I want, but when the time comes will I be able to go through with what I have planned, will I be able to forsake all that I know?

The King comes out with his sleepwear still on, garments more ostentatious than some houses in Agacia. My mother follows, as she gives me a warm smile. Me and Frank stand up, as I walk to my father as we share a hug.

His smell has always been the same, its loud but warm scent. He towers over me in height, I always wanted to be taller but I never quite got to his level. We part as I look up to his aging face. There seems to be genuine joy in his eyes, joy to see me. His well-kept bread has traces of grey in it, and his hair is long and messy from his sleep.

I see my father every day in his royal attire seated on his throne. We eat dinner most of the time, I am with him for all his duties, I have the seat next to him for any function. But I haven’t seen him like this in so long. Ever since I moved out into my own part of the castle it’s like I forgot he was my actual father. He’s just seemed like a cold-blooded conqueror for so long, but as I see him now, he seems so much weaker and so much more human. He seems like my father.

“Edmund, I’m glad you’re here too son. To hear the most favorable news from our messengers.”

“I wouldn’t miss it for anything father” I say while giving him a polite bow.

I hug my mother too, as she lovingly kisses my cheek before patting down my hair. Frank stands to the side awkward with the letter in his hand.

He bows down to his knees, and holds the letter in the same motion one holds a sword while getting knighted. My father moves to get it, but I snoop in and pick it out of his palms first.

“Here my son, let us read it” he says with his hands stretched out and waiting.

A familiar image comes to mind, of me and him in this very room. His face is much younger with much more life. His smile reaches all the way into his eyes, their brown color wide and pure. His hands are stretched out in the same way, but this time he’s asking for my hand and I give him it as he swings me around. The windows are open, as the day’s sun lights up the room, and I fly through the air. My mother is there too, as she claps and laughs along with us. I feel free again, I feel happy. My shoulders feel lighter, I feel like I am exactly where I want to be.

But then just like that, the King is awaiting the letter. Because ever since conflicts have arisen in the Kingdom with other tribes and lands, ever since he has made me be there at his right hand. It’s like he is no longer my father, and I no longer his son. I am just a knife, a knife he is sharpening so his legacy can live on through me.

He doesn’t care about me, he would be just as happy with any son, even happier if the son was more skilled then I. He brought this upon himself, he made me a weapon and I am just going to do my job.

I take the letter and place it in the pocket of my robe, my father’s face turns confused.

“Edmund dear?” my mother says but I take a step back.

I turn and walk in front of the door, blocking the only exit. If my father were to scream guards would come, and there would be much too many for me to handle. But if I slayed the King, then they would dare not for then I shall be King. I shall be the Supreme Ruler of Agacia.

I stare at the curtain to my left; I almost laugh since I have seen its use so many times before. 24/7 ever since I was a child, a guard resides behind this same curtain. An extra precaution, that usually has merit but not against me.

I unsheathe my dagger, and stab it through at the height of what seems like his neck would be. I hear a squelching noise, as the body of the guard thuds to the floor.

I hear my mother’s gasp, as she stares on shocked and confused as tears already begin to well up in her eyes. Frank is similar, as his gaze darts from the body to me, as if he was trying to figure out why. But then I look into the eyes of my father, and immediately I know he is much too wise to not realize what this means. As unforeseen, as cruel as the betrayal is my father recognizes it in a second. My lips curl into a smile, in a way I feel proud of my father. For he has seen the darkest part of man numerous times, so the sight is habitual now. He fears it not, he will just do what he can to keep my mother and his throne safe.

“I am sorry father. I truly am. I wish things could have been different, maybe in another life without this wretched curse that is imposed upon our family.”

“You speak as if your hand is forced. That is a poor excuse for comfort in the sin you are about to commit. This is all in your own hand, not fate not desperation” he says.

“What do you know about me father. You never did care about how I saw things.”

“You are no tragic hero; you are doing this off of your own accord Edmund. Do not fool yourself.”

“How dare you, what do you know. I say what do you know.”

I point my now blood-soaked dagger towards him, the anger surging through me. How can he put this on me? It was him, he made me a killer, he made me ambitious.

“All I ever wanted was your approval, as a father not a monarch. I wanted you to be proud of me for who I was, not for my skill on the battlefield.”

“Edmund, please what are you saying” my mother starts her face featuring an uncontrollable number of tears. I keep my eyes on my father, if I think too much or get distracted, I am not sure if I can do what needs to be done.

“It’s okay, he is not going to do anything” my father says while comforting my mother who immediately sobs into his chest.

“Right Edmund?” he asks me.

“I have to kill you father; I want to kill you. I want to put this dagger through your heart, I want to step over your dead body and pick up my crown. I want to sit on my throne, and do a much better job as King then you ever did. I want to honor the poison you put into me, by utilizing it far grander than you ever could.”

“Such strong words, which you wrongfully utter before such an unnoble act. Can you even kill me? Do you even have it in you? If you did son, then why haven’t you done it already.”

“You don’t know what I can or can’t do. You don’t know anything about me. You just know how to utilize me; you know me the same way I know this dagger.”

“But I do Edmund, you know I do. You can’t do this, how is this any different from that Prince. I know you see his eyes Edmund; I know you remember his face.”

Hes trying to get into my head, he wants to manipulate me just like he always does.

“Silence you old fool, your words do nothing to me. Stop wasting your breath, make amends with the lord. All the sins you have committed, it might even just be futile to.”

“Oh, my naive boy. You talk about sins right when you have a dagger pointed at your father. If I go to the underworld, I will be doing none but saving you a seat.”

“Shut your mouth! I am nothing like you, you are a monster inside and out. You made me this way, I didn’t even want this, none of this. I tried so hard to win you over that you made me think I wanted it” I say.

“Edmund please just listen to yourself. You are not even making sense; you are blinded by your emotion and rage let’s just discuss this calmly. Do not do anything rash, we can still go on from this” he says.

“Rash, do you think this is rash. For the past few months, I have thought about nothing but this. Every time I saw you, I yearned to put this dagger into you. This same dagger you gave me. With the same emotions, with the same lust for power you taught me.”

I feel my eyes water, but I cannot waver. This is my night; it has to be.

“I am not killing you; you are killing you. You are the plague, me trying to get near you did nothing but infect me” I say.

He lets go of my mother, who falls to the floor in her fit of tears. He puts both his hands out as if he was showing me, he has no weapon. He used to approach me just like this, as I jokingly appeared afraid before he would pick me up and we would wrestle. Why can’t things be like that.

The tears are pouring out now, each time I wipe them two more drizzle out. But I let them, I can’t do this. This isn’t who I really am. No matter what he has made me into, I was never born to murder. I wanted to read every book published, I wanted to be like all the other normal kids. I didn’t ask for this, and I am not going to choose it right now.

He betrayed me, and he is my father and I had no choice but to betray myself. But if I do this, if I succumb to evil in such a manner, then it will be far too late for me.

My grip on the dagger wavers, as he continues to move closer towards me. I don’t even bother to wipe my eyes anymore, I feel done with it all.

He embraces me and suddenly I am seven again with a scraped knee, sobbing from the pain. He is whispering how getting hurt is just a part of life, and it makes us stronger. How falling down is a good thing, as long as we are able to get up after.

But the next thing I feel is the floor, as I am slammed into it. Reality comes crashing down on me, as I hear the bone of my right arm crack as my father stomps his foot on it. Agony fills my mind, as my dagger falls out of my hand. I roll over on the floor, wanting to grab my arm but scared it can somehow make the pain even worse.

I don’t even know what I am here for, or who I am. All I can feel is pain, unbearable pain and the weight of an abominable force on top of me. I feel something crash against my face, once twice and it just feels warm so warm. A woman is screaming in the background, but all I can feel is pain. Make it stop, just make it stop.

I know I need to fight, but what is the point. I can’t do anything, I can’t feel anything. I deserve this.

My father pushes off of me to stand, as I see him holding his dagger. He points it to my neck, and I close my eyes awaiting my death. I welcome it actually, maybe I can finally be free. Maybe I will wake up in a place where I don’t have to be this anymore. A place where I am not myself.

“You disgust me” he says.

While staring down at me, his height making him seem unreachable. As if I am on a total another level from him.

“I gave you the world, anything a man could wish for. You think you could be King” he says, as he spits on the floor next to my head.

“You think you could be like me? A King is a man who is willing to destroy the world if that is what it takes, he is willing to destroy himself and those around him. A King is only loyal to power, a King only loves power. Just what were you? An heir, that is it. It is only my cursed luck, I was looking for an Alexander, and I got a Homer.”

“You wanted love from me, but I wanted to show you the true world, I wanted to show you what was worth loving. In 200 years when you are nothing but dust, a father’s love for a son won’t matter, the fact that you were happy won’t matter, nothing will. The only thing that remains, the surest thing that even the divine cannot ruin is legacy. Your memory and impact will remain. So, what better impact, what better memory then being a powerful King?”

“I just wanted to make you something that mattered, while you fret about childish things. You never grew up; even now I am looking at a child. Which makes this hardly a loss. I can replace you Edmund, it will be like you never existed. I wish I realized sooner that you weren’t fit for this, that you didn’t have what it takes to be a King. My time would have been spared; my efforts could have been elsewhere. You are a disgrace to the very blood that you now spill over the floor, and I want you to think about that as I kill you.”

I could get up, but what is the point. Tonight, is not my night, this world has nothing for me. I want to die; I want to die by the same hands that killed me all those days ago. What sweeter melodramatic ending is there, like we are characters of a tragic play.

Life is just a tragedy in it of itself. Even the Greeks had happy moments before the inevitable came. I just wish I could drag this demon with me, now that would be a fitting end. I stab him, as he stabs I.

People lie, you don’t see happy things before your death, you see glimpses of everything you tried so hard to avoid. I see the walls of a beautiful castle getting ripped apart by cannonball fire. I see the life leaving the eyes of a young child who was already crying while fighting. I see the dead corpses my father’s army danced and sang on. I see skewered bodies hanging over my head. I see prisoners who came back home, and how they are not even a fraction of their past selves. I see my father with disappointment in his eyes, as he urges my mother away from me to kill me.

This isn’t my fault; I am not this. But what can I do?

Perhaps the divine gave me a cruel fate, but if the lord exists then the lord is a demon and I will not yield to him. I will take my life in my own hand, or I will die trying.

I move my legs, and attempt to stand. I can’t get upright, but I fall backwards and generate some distance between me and my father. I know there is still much conflict inside of him, for non are more skilled with a blade.

“What’s the hold up your majesty, come kill the stain on your perfect legacy.”

He walks over to me, not even bothering to use his dagger. I go straight for his waist, a move I use to also do as a child. He elbows the back of my head, but I hold on and using my momentum I disrupt his balance.

I let go before rising and swinging my last hand with as much force as I can muster. It connects with his face, stinging my hand badly but I keep them up. Protecting myself and making sure to keep some distance between us.

“You taught me well, your teachings will be your own downfall.” “I will repent for my mistake” he says.

My precaution was useless, as he runs towards me as his hands find my throat. His superior strength is felt, and unlike my childhood he won’t let me win this time. I feel my back run into the wall, as I stare into his eyes. And it’s like I am staring into an abyss. There is nothing but rage and malice in them. The only thing that resembles warmth is a burning fire, but the same fire that belongs in hell. I feel tears coming out of my own eyes, as I close them not wanting to die to such a sight.

I feel as if my head is about to burst, as if my eyes will pop out of their sockets. I don’t know how much longer I have until I die. 10 seconds, 15? I don’t want to die, but there’s nothing I can do.

10

9

8

7

6

5

4

I fall onto the ground into a fit of coughs, as I see Frank staring at me petrified. I look at my father, who is on the floor clenching his leg which has my dagger lodged into it. Frank chose my companionship over the King; he chose me over living.

“Oh no, no nono. I am sorry your majesty I shouldn’t have done that. Oh god, what have I done. I am sorry, I am sorry” he says.

“It’s okay Frank, you did the right thing brother.”

I push myself up, drowning out everything. I don’t care, I don’t even care anymore.

I walk over to my father, who is shuffling back in an effort to get away from me. I pull out the grey dagger he gave me six years ago, and without even bothering to look at him, I aim the knife at his head and stab. It’s not a clean cut through, as his wails fill my ears. I try again, this time steadying my grip, as I drive in through his skull.

I pull it out, and stumble back in the process. I feel Frank’s familiar arms wrap around my being, as I join him in an embrace. He lets go, and I see his anguished face and suddenly I am lifting my dagger again, as I slit his throat. His blood and his organs go all over me. His body thuds in slow motion, I wonder if he ever even realized what happened.

My mother is at my father’s body, clutching him weeping so loud it makes my head hurt. I walk over and step over his body to go into his room. I see my crown waiting for me on a table. I grab it, and not even bothering to wear it I leave the room. My mother looks up at me, and I know she will hate me forever. I do too mother.

I scour the area with my eyes, ignoring the three bodies till I find the envelope that made all of this possible in the first place. I grab it too, and I exit the room heading towards my new throne. The guards seem alarmed at me drowning in blood, but I lift up my crown and instead they all bow down to me.

I care not, instead I just continue until I enter the vast and empty throne room. There it is, with its gold lining and unnecessary foreign materials waiting for me. My legs give in, as I lean on the wall to support myself. A servant comes over to help, but I wave my dagger at him furiously.

“Leave, leave the hall. Leave or I will have you and your entire family hanged.”

I limp over, as I head toward my chair. The hefty riches filled crown only making my voyage harder, but I hold on to it until my knuckles hurt from the pressure. I fall on the steps that lead up to the chair, as I crawl up them. Before I get there, and drag myself into the throne.

I place the crown over my head, and try to relax myself into the chair. It’s a bit big for me, but I can make it work. Or I will make a new crown, and a new throne built to accommodate my size. Neither of it is really comfortable, especially the crown which is very much heavy on my head.

I feel my hands and legs shaking, and I try to take deep breaths but they won’t stop. Stop shaking, stop shaking please. Did some spirit possess me? Is the ghost of my father in me? I shudder from the thought; my mind is taking me into places I need not be.

The letter, let’s see what’s in the damn letter. I lift it up, as the red seal features its signature large crown. I rip it off, along with the envelope to read the letter. It’s quite lengthy, and it’s addressed to the King.

“Your Majesty,

Things here are much worse than we foresaw. Me and the other 9 spies did as you asked, and made camp alongside the North hill that leads a vantage point into the Edessan Kingdom. Their people are rouges, we sent one of our men as a merchant on select days out of the weeks we were there, and he accounted of their beast like tendencies. Fights happened on the streets daily, there was much robbery and theft, sexual activities occurred out in public. Their sanitary methods, their agricultural methods, and military methods are all much worse than ours, but they have almost three times our population. They are just large herds of blood sucking animals; who will stop at nothing to destroy. Their desperation and hunger has only made them that much more dangerous. But to our upmost surprise, we saw 3 men arrive on 3 seemingly royal horses. Our man went down that day, and it turns out there where 3 advisors, one from Batavia, one from Lappia, and one from Moravia and they wish to join forces. This is due to their one shared goal, their conquest of Agacia. They see our advancements and accomplishments and they want it for their own. If adding the now 4 Kingdoms, there population count is easily 6-7 times more than ours, and we are completely at their mercy. I wish there was another way, but I truly feel there is not one. Your majesty, I am your most devote servant, I love you more than anyone has ever loved anyone. I have served you with each inch of my soul, but I think for the sake of everyone in Agacia, I would say you surrender yourself immediately to them. I know this is the same thing as me asking you to dive into hell, for surely these people will not be humane but there is just no other way. The fates have called our name, and have marked us to die. I hope this letter can reach you before they do, if not then I hope we can meet one day in heaven. May the Lord save us all.

Your Humblest and Devote Servant,

Aretian.”

“But I don’t want to, I don’t see why I have to do it myself.” “Well then would you want me to do it?”

“No, no no father please. Why do we have to kill him? He is harmless, and he’s is my age. His people are already dead, there is no need for this”

My father shakes his head at me, I disappointed him.

“No Edmund, you can’t have such weakness in you. If the roles were switched, if this Prince killed your people and you were left. He would cut your head off without hesitation.”

The Prince seems so scared though. His eyes are a crying mess, his breathing is out of control and I can feel his tremble. Could father be wrong? But father is never wrong, he has always been right.

He would kill me though, so it would be doing the right thing. I am just ending him before he can end me. Father is right, but then just why does the idea of it feel so wrong. I don’t want to kill him, why do I have to?

I was reading my book when father called me, I thought he was going to show me something else not a battlefield.

“I-I, I don’t know if I can.”

“Sure, you can” he says while grabbing my arm.

He picks up a sword off of a fallen solider on the floor and places it in my hands while holding them. It is heavy, unnatural. I much rather preferred when father was teaching me how to write.

I try to resist, to pull away from his grasp but he is much too strong. “No father please, I don’t want to. Anything else I just can’t.”

“You can kill the same way a lion can kill without thinking. You don’t want to, but that is different. Sometimes you have to, the world is a dark

place and if you can’t turn dark when necessary, you can’t survive. What if he was going to kill your mother, or your friend Frank?”

No, I can’t let him do that. I love mother, I love Frank.

“You would stop him, right? So, what’s different now, stop him now before he even gets the chance.”

But how can I, how can I kill someone else? He looks so sad; I just want to hug him and to ruffle his hair, the same way mother ruffles mine when I am unhappy.

“Here, take this then. This weapon is sacred, it was the first I ever used. My father gave it to me, and now I am giving it to you. One day you shall give it to your son. Take good care of it.”

He hands me a gray blade, that is nothing compared to the swords everyone else has. This small thing was my father’s first weapon? Maybe he got a bigger one as he got older, does that mean father killed when he was young like me?

“Okay here, I will help you” he says.

Before I can even fully protest, the handle of the blade is thrusted into my hand, and father is counting while holding me.

3

2

1

His screams still ring into my ear to this day, alongside my father’s proud laughter.

Maybe that day I killed myself instead of the Prince.

I hate this throne room, it’s so empty and naught. Everything is over now.

I hear cannons firing, the enemy is here. The enemy is already in this throne anyways.

I take the stupid crown off of my head and throw it down.

I never wanted this, I never wanted any of this.

I never wanted to be a Prince, I just wanted to be your son.

From that stormy night it took 40 years for me to see the sun again. My public execution the best day of my life. I said Hallelujah before they cut my head off.