Anathema

The Prince

The sullen morning matched the glum bitterness that was currently adorning the young drunkard prince's face. Currently, the boy sat jejunely; the words coming out of the men, whom he might point out, had barged in with no regard for his privacy; by now this was routine, and yet each time it irked the foolish prince just the same. His father, never bothering to come down and scold the boy himself, had once again sent his servants to fetch his son. The boy's hazel eyes were glossed over, evidence of his intoxication from the night before; annoyance, restlessness, and apathy could also be seen inflicted on his features, as he mindlessly listened to the nearly numbing words being exchanged between the men that stood hovering over his bed. That was until the word "ill" popped up in the conversation. The prince now gave his full attention to his father's servitors. Curiosity could be seen in the way the juvenile's demeanor had changed: his previously drowsy eyes had now perked up, his shoulders straightened themselves slightly, and his whole body shifted its direction towards the men.

"...we have called for the healer already," Spoke one of the men, "If all goes well, he is expected to arrive later this evening." The man finished. All of the men now paused, hoping to find a reaction from the prince. Unfortunately, to their optimism, the boy only muttered a hmm in response.

"Listen, Nikola..." One of them spoke, directly addressing the prince. Nikola hated his name; it was his father's, and he found it repugnant just like him. Before the dark-haired man had the chance to finish Nikola had already cut him off.

"Don't 'listen' me, firstly," The prince shot up, his tone seething with bitterness and anger like an imp. He then proceeded to pause, enjoying the feeling of his privilege. "And secondly, I am to be addressed as Prince Nikola, and with respect, not just like some peasant son of yours." He finished, now fully out of bed, and standing in front of the man that had dared belittled him.

Everyone in the room stilled themselves, silence hanging over their heads and shoulders, no one daring to speak or leave. Nikola was known for his temper, and how easy it was to set him off. And when Nikola was fully enraged, many of the people around during his tantrum would be known to have lost their jobs the next day. So no one spoke out; all of them waited for what order or say the prince might give out next.

"You talk of someone in need of my family's healer. Who might that be?" Nikola inquired, his outbreak having passed as quickly as it came.

"Your father, Prince Nikola."

"Father with his dramatics, sending you all here to fetch me." He laughed a sharp laugh, finding the situation unpleasant. "Surely he can't be that ill to be wanting to see his estranged son?"

"He is gravely ill, sir."

"Really?" Nikola remarked sarcastically. "Well, unfortunately, or fortunately for me, that's not gonna be my problem until he dies."

The men around the boy immediately started with their pleading, which could only be seen in the young man's mind as pestering.

"No amount of pleas or bargains could ever change my mind; I will not visit him, even when he is on his deathbed." Declared the prince. Nikola understood that he appeared cold, more often than he'd like, yet it didn't affect him. Nikola had been telling himself for a while that it was better to be feared than to be seen as weak.

"Prince Nikola," A servitor spoke out. The man paused in hesitancy before continuing. "How can you be so cold, even when one's own nation has begun to mourn the loss of their tzar. He is your father, and he is noble and respectable. He has done great things for our nation."

The prince hearing this paused, not many had ever cared to speak to the prince of his father.

"Well," He paused again, gathering himself and his thoughts. "I'm afraid the love he bears for his nation and house, outweighs the love he can bear for his own family."

Nikola looked around at his father's servant's faces, seeking any trace of empathy at all. To no surprise, he found looks of disbelief -of course, they'd believe their king over the poor, spoilt, little prince.

"I don't blame my father; a tzar's loyalty must always lie to his people. But I, being just human, cannot help but resent him for his choice." He clarified. His tone was not laced with any sarcasm, or anger, just solemn sadness.

"Dear Prince, while you may not care for your father, surely you care about the kingdom's people as future tzar?"

Nikola nodded at the face of the voice who had spoken.

"Your father wants an early coronation, as he believes his time is nearing, and an ill tzar does not look good for a kingdom, especially one on the brink of war with a neighbor."

"And you've seen him yourself?" Nikola questioned, surveying the man.

"Well, no, but..."

"Then that's it, there is no need to leave right now, maybe even ever." The royal affirmed.

"Your highness," Another man out of the group of four servants, tried again.

"We do not know the diagnosis yet, but as soon as the healer arrives, we'll know. For now, we'd advise you to come with us, in case of a need for an immediate coronation."

"Fine... "The now irritated prince replied, giving up his case of not leaving, "for the people, and my sisters' sake."

With that, the prince dressed for the cold trek through the forest that lay between his residing village, Siirenn, and Astrenya's rich kingdom, named the same as the nation and Nikola's last name.

The tree's surrounding the beaten path they were passing through stood looming over the weary travelers as flakes of snow began to trickle through the trees and onto the men's cloaks. They'd left shortly after the sun had reached its highest point, signaling noon. That had been a few hours ago, soon the sun would be setting. The group, finding the winds growing harsh, nipping at all their beards besides the young prince's who had no such sign of old age adorning his face, steadied their horses, searching for a nook in the forest, away from the main path, that might provide some cover from the snow and winds for tonight.

"Over here, will do. My prince." Shouted one of the men over the howling winds.

At once, all the men immediately started setting up camp for the night. All the while on the side, the boy whose blood held power in itself, stood still, watching the older men make his tent, set the fire, and feed the horses.

Now they all sat at the fire, warming their hands and gear. In their cloth packs sat stale bread, waiting to be eaten.

"Your highness, are you not hungry?" The shortest one of the group asked. He was an odd character; his jaw sat crooked, and his spine was slightly bent. And if he smiled, his wide grin would showcase a set of crooked teeth.

"No, my friend... I do not have an appetite tonight." The prince replied. He would rather starve than eat the stale plain bread they were offering.

Silence once again fell upon the group, all of them gazing into the fire, as unease was felt between all of them. Soon after, the crew of travelers fell asleep, their temporary tents placed by the fire, blessing them with enough heat for a comfortable sleep.

Although the warmth provided plenty of comfort, the prince's thoughts did not. One thing had been on Nikola's mind ever since they departed from Siirenn. Tomorrow they will arrive in Astrenya. Tomorrow he'd see his father.

Author's Note: Thank you for reading! I understand this chapter was short, but I hope you'll stick along. I promise there will be action in the future chapters. Again, thank you so much for reading, it means a lot to me!

Also, I'm open to criticism and your thoughts<3

-k