Fan Fiction ❯ Spirit of the Dragon (part II) ❯ The Lost Prince ( Chapter 2 )

Chapter Two

"So many times have I saved you." The voice was low and composed of whispers. It was new. It was familiar.

Prince Acanthus groaned and sat up. He found himself staring into blue darkness. Who are you?

"You know who I am." Such a forlorn voice. Such a happy voice.

Wind rustled in the trees. Like the hushed voices of souls in hiding. What has happened to me? I cannot remember how I came to be here. He was sitting in a glen, surrounded on all sides by towering redwoods. Around him came the snores of comrades. Logic told him he was camped, although he could not determine just why.

"The journey home is always long." Like shadows the voice came. Like blinding light. He could feel it reaching out to him in the night. Old friend. Fresh adversary.

I know you. But I do not remember you.

"All power comes at a price, young prince. The fire I give you; it eats at your mind. Sometimes I worry, but what else can I do? She asked me to watch over you. So watch over you I will." Silence descended for a moment, as if the spirit were thinking. "Yes, all power at a price."

Who asked you to watch over me?

"Begonia. Dear Begonia. The forest called her home again. But not before she came to me. She loved you, you know. Even before you were born. And she held you in her arms before she died."

My mother…Acanthus leaned back against a tree, looking to the star-ridden sky. Little did he know someone had done the very same thing not long ago. She had done so while thinking of him. So my mother is the one who sent you to me?

"It must be so, these consequences…" The sprit ignored his question and went on its own. "For without consequences in the wake of his power, a man is a dangerous creation…So you must suffer. Every time I come, you forget a little more. You get a little closer to the abyss…" The spirit actually sounded concerned. "But what can I do? It was prophesized Begonia's only son would die before his twentieth year. So I must counter prophecy with power. But the power weakens you. What a bother this all is…"

Who are you? Acanthus asked again.

"If you don't know, you aren't meant to know. At least not yet."

But why? I do not understand any of this. So my mother sent you to protect me…but what does that mean?

"Patience, little human. It is a proper quality and a royal necessity."

Acanthus lifted a splinted arm and winced. Why did it have to be his right arm that was injured? So I am supposed to die…

"Yes but…this is not so sobering as it sounds. My kind has, for a long while, fought against what you would call Fate."

Is it possible to fight against Fate?

"We believe it is. Then again our lives are a lot longer than yours. We have a lot more time to question them."

Yes, but there are some things it seems…just no one can control…Said the prince, thinking of Crowe. How do you fight against those things? Silence. Another breeze swept through the forest.

"I do not have all the answers. And I do not give all the ones I know."

I see that…Silence again.

"Do you hate me, Acanthus?" Such a confusing question.

How can I hate something without form?

"You can hate ideas, can't you? And prejudice. You can hate prejudice…"

Prejudice…The prince echoed. He thought of the Gardrothians. Was he prejudiced against them? He supposed he was. Despite Crowe. Yes, you can hate such impalpable concepts, I suppose. But I do not hate you. Nor do I like you. I just…accept you. You are a part of me now, so be it.

"Do you hate love, Acanthus? Because it hasn't ever made you happy. I've always wondered about humans and love. It seems to cause such problems…"

Do I hate love? Once again, Acanthus thought of Crowe. I hate pining for love, if that is what you mean. I hate being in love, desperately, without knowing whether such adoration will ever return to me. I hate spending every waking moment of my existence, praying for something that I might never attain. So to answer your question, yes sometimes I hate being in love. But I have never hated love for what it is.

"Then we are not all that different, you and I. Yes, Acanthus, I think I understand you now."

And yet I know little more about you, Spirit.

"And thus is the way it will be." Somehow, there was the hint of a smile in those words.

Acanthus got the impression that the spirit had left him. He pondered for a moment over whether it could come at will, or if he somehow called out to it. It had claimed the latter was true.

"Acanthus?" He gazed unseeing at movement in his line of vision. "Acanthus, please tell me you're awake."

"I am awake." Her voice fascinated him. "Have I not been?"

"You slept for days. I was worried." Crowe came a little closer, although he still could not see her face. Only the glint of pale skin, framed in dark curtains of hair. "We are almost home now."

"Almost home…" He mused. `We are almost home…' "You will stay with us in Azalea?"

"I will stay…" She said softly, almost as if she were afraid. "Because while you were gone I realized how much this kingdom actually meant to me. How much you…" Fear became evident and she trailed off. He so wanted her to finish, but he would not force her. Instead he waited in silence while she sat behind him. Now he could see her clearly. Her light blue eyes were a comforting familiarity. Before she had come he had felt so lost. But when he was with her…everything just seemed to make sense.

"I was a fool." The prince told her. "I should not have run off."

"True." Crowe said bluntly. "But you are young."

He laughed at that. "So I suppose you know better than me."

"I have to. I have a child to think about now."

Acanthus bowed his head, remembering the cause of his anguish. "Did you see him again?" There was no need to name him.

"Yes." Crowe gave him a look that was something like pity, although it just might have been her own sorrow. "I told him about Kale." The prince was unresponsive so she went on. "He said he had always wanted a son. He actually sounded happy."

"Then that is good news."

"It is…" Crowe sounded sad. "But I feel…" He shoulders drooped, and all of her attention was directed at a blade of grass at her feet. "I still have questions."

"It is incomplete." Acanthus said, understanding. It was her way of telling him she was not ready. Her way of dismissing him once again.

"I'm confused." Crowe said. "I thought I was through with him, but then when I saw him the other day…"

Please do not finish. A voice within him pleaded her. He swallowed to keep down a cry that wanted to escape his lips. Beads not unlike burning glass touched the corners of his eyes. They must have been tears. Acanthus looked away as if he suddenly found something compelling to watch in the treetops. It is lost. All of it. All I have hoped for…One of the tears escaped its green origin, and he swiped it away with the back of a hand.

"I think I still love him." The words struck like a blow. And it became impossible. Impossible to be in her presence. It overwhelmed him like pungent perfume. He would suffocate if she stayed there any longer.

"Forgive me…" He said in the calmest voice manageable. "But I feel another sleep spell upon me. The aftereffects have not ceased, it seems…"

"Yes of course. Sorry to keep you up." Did she suspect anything? "Goodnight, Acanthi." Now she had a nickname for him? He watched dizzily as she got to her feet, and it was all he could do not to clutch his heart and cry out in agony. Of course she still loved Ronori. He was strong. Handsome. The father of her child…Wouldn't making it work be the best for Kale? Was it wrong to wish doom upon their love? Acanthus crawled blindly back to his bedroll and curled up in the covers. He really wasn't tired. So he lay awake the rest of the night, helpless to the tears that streamed down his face.