"Please! You must!" She cried out, exasperated, she kicked her feet, mussing the bedding and crossing her arms over her chest she had puffed out her cheeks in defiance before eying the other who smiled knowingly of what the little princess sought from this act. She wanted to hear the story that, over years, had grown accustomed to her little ears. He knew every line as well as he knew the lines upon his old and weathered palm and the beat of his own heart. Oft he would tease her, say that he would not tell her the story and only if she would go off and onto bed. She would albeit sometimes with a bit of a look as she held now. "Aye, princess, I shall." He promised her, she was his charge and he, old and weathered. Beyond his use.

He set himself upon the edge of her bed and he touched her small feet, removing the shoes that were her own, well-done they were, the finest that coin could have brought. He slipped off the stockings and pinched her toes and sent her smiling widely and squealing with laughter - A look of, what was once exasperation, softening into fondness for the older man that was he. "Truly?" She asked of him, eyes large with wonder and promise, almost kittenish if that was even a word "Truly. So long as you get tucked into bed, lest your father lash me for insolence." He murmured in reply and she gasped "Oh, nonsense!" She cried out, smiling widely still. Both knew that her father would do naught of what he had mentioned for her father was equally as fond as she was of this old man who now sat upon the edge of the bed. She had known him since she was younger, much so, he was younger then as well.

It would only be moments with the skilled and deft practice that routine brings on, that the young child was dressed in the garb of a night gown and clambering into a bed that was much larger than necessary for her own needs and no doubt would service her well until her weathering years. Rich and vibrant carpets decorated the floors, draperies and tapestries gracing both the stone walls and windows. The hearth fire guttered from a wail of a wind, before settling and the fire danced, chasing away the shadows and sending dancing beasts across the walls by way of a specially cut grate that had been set in front of the hearth and hearth stones depicting the tale of wonders and mythical beasts; a bard's tale.

She waited for him and soon he set the thick furs and covers over her whilst smiling upon her fondly. Her russet tresses were tousled and mussed from chasing her all about in the afternoon and it caught the firelight leaving it to gleaming. He had begun to tuck her in, stroking her hair fondly for only a moment, touching her cheek before the words fell from his lips as they always had.

"Once upon a time, within a land full of wonders and mythical beasts lived a Prince," He had uttered whilst the little girl sighed at the words that were spoke and soon found herself staring past him and toward the window as if already she could see herself speeding across the land, flying high above it toward such a foreign world. "Tall trees that the clouds caressed, scraping the very skies itself where lowly bushes and brush, brambles and berry bushes settled lived pixies and fey folk and deep within the forest lived the beasties --"

Interrupted "Oh, go, please, tell me of the Prince!" She suggested, she knew all already and yet she seemed just as excited as the first time he had told her this story. "And there lived a Prince who which everybody loved, for he was the best of all. None ruled as he had, or held his charm and --"

He spoke to her of the prince and his charming ways, of those who all loved him and adored him and of his father's Kingdom that would eventually be his, much as the one she would rule one day in her father's stead. He told her of the the autumn setting suns and the rainbow that never settled and yet lingered upon the sky. But it was soon, half way through his telling, that she sighed almost in - What? Disappointment or possibly even frustration?

"Oh," She sighed out "Yes?" He raised one thick bushy brow in question "You have told me this story for so long, haven't you?" She asked innocently before looking away silently as he thought of returning back but knew well that that was not what she wanted. "Tell me something else! A new story!" She suggested. He was struck. "Something else?" He raised his brows, amusement lingering in his eyes "Naught happens to the Prince, well, nothing that seems exciting any longer. I shall be grown, won't I? Tell me a story of the Prince. One of which he saves something other than a princess from some wicked looking witch."

He looked thoughtful when these words she shared with him reached his ears. He had spoken this story often and had spun it whilst she lay underneath the covers nearly every night he had known her. After all, how long did he expect her to enjoy the same tale? There was no doubt that it would linger as her most adored tale but...As she said, she would be grown.

"Very well then," He replied suddenly as if deciding for himself that it was aright to do so and soon softening into a smile whilst she settled back and onto the cushions before looking up to him with both youth and excitement in her young and large eyes. He spoke and tucked the covers about her. He spoke the words that started all stories that were spun by the tongues' of bards and minstrels alike. He spoke.

"Once upon a time..."
___

He ran. His heart thudded and thrummed within his chest whilst blood rushed throughout his body and his pulse quickened - adrenaline filling. His chest rose and fell with each and every breath. The earth beneath him sped away and the trees that he winded through fell behind and beyond. He ran. His cloak snapped in the wind and fluttered behind him in his wake. He slowed, if only for a moment, to catch his breath and gather his bearings, if only for a moment he felt safe until the baying of hounds reached his ears once more. The crush of foliage and brush was the wake of the war band that trailed him. The hoarse cries of those who followed. "This way!" "Over yon!" One cried to the other, the shuffling and snorting of warhorses, the brush crushed under hoof, branches and wayward brush slashed away in an vicious attempt to get through the thicket in which thwarted their approach.

The judder of horse tack and armor, the jingle of mail and bared steel. The hoarse and heavy breathing of men ahorse and astride their beasts. The baying and snarls of the hounds as they clambered over one another and fought the leash that bound them for only a moment before breaking free, seeking their charge so that they may be allowed to maul their victim before their masters arrived and earn their reward.

He tossed his head before glancing over his shoulder at the oncoming tide of hound flesh that broke through the thicket and crashed through brambles and brush without so much as a halt to the pain that thorns and the thicket may cause. They were blinded by his scent and for the taste of man flesh. He took in a deep breath and once more was off and launching himself over a moss covered log that had fallen ages hence with his hands thrusted forward, pushing away wayward branches and brush. "Halt in the name of the Emperor!" The mounted knight roared, reining in his warhorse, leading him about and winding through the trees in an attempt to keep to the fleeing man in the guise of dark garb, hood raised, cloak snapping in his wake. The hounds were coming closer and were near to snapping at his heels but the man of dark garb turned in a sudden movement to break off and veer toward the side; sending one launching hound into a thick-girthed tree.

If it were not for the brambles, the knight would have had a clear opening but in an instant the dark hooded man was launching once more over another downed log and had sped away and had pushed through the serpentine path.
"You cannot run forever!" He snarled in frustration.

But he did.

He continued and had been panting heavily as he rushed through with breath misting on the cool night air. There was no escape – none whatsoever. He had lost count of the time and of how long he had been running. How much further could he go? Then there was the sound of crushing brush as a hound crashed through the thicket, snapping at his heels once more. He freed his long-knife in an instant and twisting it in his hand he had launched himself forwards. With the momentum he had begun to turn in mid-air to meet the pounce of the beast and in an instant the beast was flying over his shoulder, wailing and screaming, whimpering and convulsing on the ground as the hooded man recovered and gathered his knife, wiping it upon his pant leg before disappearing into the brush. The moon was slowly rising.

A clearing.

He threw himself through and out into the spilling moonlight so that he may rush across the tall grass that did nothing but hinder him. There out from across they had begun to emerge from the thicket of a copse of trees and brush, came the mounted riders in which found their way around.

He was surrounded.

"There is no where to run. Give yourself in, now!" The captain of the war band called out calmly, nudging his mount forward. Each in turn had followed his lead, backing the hooded man toward the center.
It was useless even as he had bared his knife whilst he turned to meet the captain who came closer, he stepped hindeward ever more in hopes of avoiding the confrontation. "We can end this now. Give yourself in and we shall only break few of your bones. Give us the conch!" But the man gave no answer and had begun only to look about his surroundings -- he saw no escape and the captain, blade bared, came closer.

The dark garbed man turned and ran.

"Stop him!" The snarl and bark of an order had been called out but it was too late. The earth had begun to give from underneath him and he was falling ever so until darkness greeted him as an empty void rushed up to meet him. The tear and groan of earth filled the air and soon did inhuman screaming and wail of horse flesh and man whilst mounted beasts reared and snorted. Hooves lifted and eyes rolling to show their whites, breath misting, hounds joining and warriors crying out their dismay as the earth shivered visibly and churned.
___

"What of the Man and the Conch?" They looked down upon the destruction that had been wrought upon the earth like a wound -- eviscerated even. The soil was upturned and the edge of the landscape fell inward into the emptied void beneath where only piercing darkness lingered and naught more where not even the moonlight could pierce. "We shall turn back," The captain murmured, snorting his dismay and grimacing as he sheathed his blade, sighing heavily over the loss of those who had fallen with the hooded man. He wheeled his warhorse about, nudging the beast back the way he had come after having fought it back into check only moments prior.
He would have to face the Emperor and admit his defeat in this hunt.
___

His eyes were shut. They were held fast and sticky - blood? He touched his face and felt his hand coming away wet and warm, thick with the viscous stuff. He groaned as he felt his gut roiling and soon enough the bile that had been expected rose to the back of his throat and he was retching and convulsing violently. His body ached and trembled uncontrollably before he finally threw himself back to sit from his keeled position. Darkness. It was all around him with the faint illumination of moonlight that managed to pierce through opening air vents in the ceiling where earth fell from. After readjusting his eyes to the darkness and faint illumination he could soon make out the landslide that had come in his wake and with it limbs of both man and beast sticking out from the fill of it. He found his footing and pulled away from the wreck for the smell was distasteful.

A discordant chord filled the air and had shivered the dust motes before reverberating off the earthen walls of the eternal hall. It was only then that a faint blue light had begun to flicker in the distance and in an instant the halls had filled with the dancing light as it flickered about him and danced - beckoning him closer.
He was dizzy and his mind flooded. Euphoria as he breathed in the earthy scent and blood rushed throughout him with utter warmth. He extended one hand and raised it above his brow to brace himself as the blue light grew and burned brightly as he wandered down the narrow earth hall, coming closer all the while.

"You have come,"

The voice was husky.

"Ah, and so long we have waited"

Another echoed.

"Waited, so long we have,"

Sultry this one was.

"Come, come, do not tarry."

A lover's caress were these words.

"Oh, my Prince, how beautiful are thee, o'er here shall we go. Please, join me, allow me,"

Promises.

"To please thee."

Offerings.

The voices reached his ears as he left the earth hall and entered the rounded stone dome. The stonework wrought with filigree, glyphs, and runes that which were weathered by age and the ravages of time. "My Prince," The voice was a shiver down his spine and set the hairs upon his neck to standing. He halted at the hands upon the cloth of his garb and the touch of fingers upon his thigh in which were rising ever slowly. His eyes rolled as another braced his shoulder, drinking in his scent greedily. It was sudden.

"We have waited,"

Close was this voice, breath on his neck.

"We three,"

This one upon his ear, the breath raising the hairs upon his nape.

"Through the ages,"

He breathed out huskily.

"For your coming."

His knees were weak.

Voices husky and rasping, deep and low, sultry and seductive -- Beckoning him to release himself to their hands and flesh. His eyes rolled only for a moment before looking heavenward as water fell from the hanging roots that managed to break through the age worn mortar of the stone and to fall as a puddle upon the marble floor. His eyes fell to it and in an instant he saw them. The old crones that were once slender lithe nymphs that had been touching and caressing every inch of him had become weathered and worn, hunched and ravaged by time as the hall itself was.

He pulled free of their grasps and the endless drip that sounded and resounded was joined by the patter of his feet on the puddle as he spun to them, sword bared and pointing to the three who were once more lovely nymphs before his very eyes. Only the water in which fill within their haven betraying the truth behind their guise. The waters that had fallen from the heavens and sunk through the earth.

They had bowed their heads, hands raised in a gesture and sign that they held no weapons or meant to cause any harm; in obeisance -- As if the touch and indulgence of flesh were meant to be harm, one would think of it wryly. The one between the others had smiled widely. Her hair was of russet, darkening off to an earthy array of colors that left her seemingly mottled. Garlands crept along her arms and shoulders, lilies in her hair which were much like the others which in turn had seemed each were reflecting the elements of their world. Her scent was as earthy as she looked and nearly naked as her name day but for the simple cloth she wore that left little to the imagination. She advanced on him and he stepped back but did naught else. "I warn thee," He spoke with a voice of eloquence, warmth and calm, even for all the intimidating threat that riddled the words he spoke.

"We mean no harm, my prince, please," She bowed her head to him, falling to her knees and grabbing at his free hand whilst the water caressed her bared legs as she kissed his fingertips and knuckles, his palm and wrist in utter fealty.

"We have waited long for the one who shall embark on the odyssey to save our world." She looked heavenward and up into his hood, his mouth ajar slightly before firming into a line

"You are the one." She whispered lastly, soft lips curling into a knowing smile. "You are the one."
___

She had fallen asleep and he had smiled and found himself stroking her hair lovingly. Another night and he shall continue his tale. For now things there will be for him to do. Reluctantly he left the side of the little girl and pressed his hand to the oaken door. He unlatched it and slipped out with one glance over his shoulder to the little girl who slept peacefully deep within her dreamland.
___

The fairy tale of the Prince has been told throughout the ages within the house and line of those of royalty and those of lesser status. The tale of the Prince is an old epic, told to be spun by the hand of a skilled wordsman and minstrel, wrought for the meanings of court and to grace the highest and richest of halls. But what many do not know is that with such tales, spun to become as they are, and such an epic as this, was that truth lingers in every thread that is spun for the spool. What many do not know is that the truth in it was that no one would have lived if it were not for the Prince and the Conch he had stolen from the King of Kings. If it were not for his band of rag-tag adventurers and the courage to stand against a tyrant, naught would linger upon the land.

This is the Lore of the Prince.

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