I started writing this, but I'm not sure if I should continue.

It was yet another boring day for Prince Maxmillion at Bluecoast Academy, where the young prince was receiving his secondary education. On this particular day a multitude of things unrelated to his lessons were on his mind. As he sat in his dull, dreary classroom, barely hearing Professor Kieran drone on about The War of Isabella’s Diamonds, Maxmillion let his gaze wander towards the window. From his seat, Maxmillion could clearly see a vast expanse of the city.

The city of Bluecoast itself was a preposterously huge city built predominately out of marble and granite. The defenses of the city were composed of highly trained Royal Guard, but not so much as to protect the city as to protect King Leopold, his wives, sons, and daughters. Bluecoast was just a jeweled bead on the necklace that made the beautiful lands of Euria.

With a mighty sigh, Maxmillion returned his attention to Professor Kieran and Isabella’s Diamonds. The Prince tried to refocus on his history lesson, but his mind was still boggled from the events of the night before.

Prince Maxmillion was returning home from the day’s ride, his horse’s hooves clattering on the wide cobbled road-like walkway that lead into Ciwyn Court. As he passed through the gate, Maxmillion craned his neck back as to better take in the grand architecture of the beautifully crafted ivory marble castle. Ciwyn Court was set on the crest of a large hill that was locally known as The King’s Mountain.

As soon as Maxmillion was inside of the castle walls, more toward one of the twelve courtyards, he dismounted and a small flurry of stable hands came running to put his steed away in the Prince’s personal stables. With a characteristic floppy grin on his tanned face, Maxmillion turned on his heel away from the stable hands and sauntered into the castle. Maxmillion needed to speak with his father.

Continuing with his slow strut, Maxmillion started to throw open the door of his father’s throne room, but stopped in mid-motion when he heard raised voices.

“Father, you can’t allow him to continue with this! It will destroy the whole purpose of the crusades!” Maxmillion recognized the voice as his older brother’s voice; as Prince Morgan’s voice.

“Now, now, Morgan,” said an aged voice, “calm down. You should really learn some manors, dear boy; you are talking to the Kings of this land.”

The aged voice had to belong to Maxmillion and Morgan’s grandfather, Dominic. Maxmillion’s crystal blue eyes narrowed as he flicked his head to the side to get his longish dark brown hair out of his face.

King Leopold held his tongue for the moment, unwilling to side with his son or father for the moment.

“Perhaps we could,” Leopold began slowly, stressing every syllable, “…We could come to a compromise.”

“And what sort of compromise do you propose, father?” asked Morgan rather hotly.

Maxmillion shifted for a better view, leaning slightly to his left so that his father came into his focus. Leopold was sitting on his throne, breathing heavily with the sheer pressure of the situation. Old King Dominic was standing off to the side whilst Morgan stood directly in Leopold’s line of vision, as to dare the King to look into his eyes. For a moment, Maxmillion’s very breath caught in his throat with the pure powerfulness of the situation.

“My son,” said Leopold with venom, “you will show the proper respect to your King, even if I am your father. And your grandfather may have a point; perhaps the Eurian people are too liberated.”

Maxmillion shifted again, this time closer to the door. His brother’s words were spoken softly, but Morgan never had needed to shout to make a statement.

“My father,” murmured Morgan, “if you side with Grandfather Dominic on this issue, I believe I am showing you all the respect you deserve.”

Moving like a bolt of lightning, Maxmillion darted away from the door just as his brother threw it open, a very angry Morgan storming out. As the huge oak door slammed back shut, Morgan stopped dead in his tracks. Slowly, Morgan turned to make eye contact with his much younger brother; Morgan’s hazel orbs met their destination.

“Max,” said Morgan, raising his hand to beckon Maxmillion closer. Obediently, Maxmillion stepped nearer.

“Listen to me Max,” said Morgan gravely, placing a hand on Maxmillion’s shoulder, “Something is coming, little brother. I know you were listening in, and I’m sure you’re smart enough to tell Euria is about to crumble from the inside out.”

Maxmillion’s eyes widened a bit; he had inferred as much, but hearing it was even worse. Morgan tightened his grip on Maxmillion’s shoulder, comforting him.

“Why are you telling me, Morgan?” Maxmillion inquired somewhat shakily.

“Why? Why, Max?” Morgan said fatally, “Because the time is coming when you, Prince Maxmillion, will have to choose sides for yourself.”

Maxmillion gulped almost noiselessly, but quite visibly. “If I have to choose sides, I’ll side with you, Morgan.”

Morgan’s grip tightened again, “That’s good to hear, brother, very good to hear.”

With that, Morgan released Maxmillion’s shoulder and turned away, leaving Maxmillion alone. With a budding head ache, Maxmillion forgot the discussion he had meant to have with his father and retired for the evening. It was just to much for one day.


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Well, what do you think?

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<center>“Envy consists in seeing things never in themselves, but only in their relations. If you desire glory, you may envy Napoleon, but Napoleon envied Caesar, Caesar envied Alexander, and Alexander, I daresay, envied Hercules, who never existed.”
at one point, I was alejandrah.