Delinquent, Reborn!

The glass slipped from his hand, shattering on the floor with a crash.

“Justinius? Justinius!” His guards rushed to his side, propping his slumped body up in his throne. “Justinius, wake up! Where’s the doctor!?” One of them yelled, and someone pushed through the crowd.

“Here I am!” He yelled. “I’m here!”

“Let him through, damn you, let him through!” The crowd cleared so the doctor could make his way to the front. He dropped his bag at the foot of the throne, and looked closely at the face of Justinius. He opened his eye with his thumbs, and blew into it, then he pricked his finger with a needle and sucked the blood that welled out.

“He’s been poisoned.” He said loudly. Everyone in the room gasped.

“Can you cure him?” The guard asked, his armor glinting in the torchlight. The doctor shook his head dejectedly.

“I’m afraid I don’t recognize the taste. It must be some special new kind. I don’t have the antidote.” The room was silent, as they stared at the lifeless face of the young prince, when suddenly a voice yelled out from the back.

“Out of my way! Out of my way! Move, you fools!” The man’s tall, dark purple hat was visible before his face. It was Darian, the head priest.

“Darian! The prince has been poisoned!” The guard said.

“I heard.” He said grimly, pulling at his long white beard. “There is no time to waste. Pick him up and follow me.”

“But, where are we going?”

“There can be no questions, only action. Follow me.” The guards picked up the limp body of their prince, and followed the priest out of the feast hall. The eyes of the crowd followed them, one pair of which shone red with malice.

They walked out of the hall, across the length of the castle, and finally began an ascent up the northernmost tower.

“How much farther?” The guard asked, panting. The priest stayed silent and quickened his pace up the stairs. They climbed up to the very peak of the tower, nearly 20 stories high. The guards laid Justinius gently on the floor, and immediately collapsed, passed out from the exertion. The priest ignored them, and dragged the prince’s body to the middle of the room. He threw open the curtains so that the starlight shone in. He looked through his telescope, and moved Justinius slightly. He opened the cabinets, grabbed several bags of powder, and began drawing circles around Justinius. After that he got on his knees with a fine brush, and drew precise diagrams in the dust that he had poured. It took him nearly an hour to finish, before finally he lit 3 candles, placed them in a triangle, and sat down to pray.

The roar of the motorcycle died down as Drake pulled into the parking lot. The street lamps illuminated nothing but empty spaces. It was odd, his men should be there. He turned off his bike, and took off his helmet, shaking his long wavy hair free. He looked down at his phone. 1:30 AM. He was already 30 minutes late, so his friends should already have been there, but he supposed they could be late sometimes too. Strange they wouldn’t have let him know though. He pulled up his recent calls, and called the first number there. The phone rang a couple times, then went to voicemail. Did Will just decline his call? Suddenly lights turned on all around him, but they weren’t streetlights. They were spread out in a circle slowly closing in on him until they blinded him. Drake shielded his eyes, trying to figure out what was going on when the lights stopped. He saw a shadowy figure behind one of the lights come forward.

“Will?” He could just barely make him out. “Will, who are all these people?” He smiled.

“Drake, I’m sorry brother. We just couldn’t make it work. Not everything works out, you know, and this is just another one of those.” He said, as he kept walking forward.

“Will… Will, what are you talking about?”

“You should’ve listened to me, Drake. I had a lot of good ideas, you know.”

“Will! What’s going on!? Tell me right now!” Will stopped. He pulled something out of his pocket, and with a loud clang, the long pointed end glinted in the light.

“I always hated that attitude of yours. Acting like you’re so much better than us.” Drake stepped back, reached in his pocket and grabbed his knife, but he was surrounded.

“You traitor!” He yelled.

“Yeah.” He smiled. “Yeah, I am, but I’m still not as bad as you.” Drake was the best fighter among them, but that didn’t mean he could take on 15 people. He went down cursing Will’s name, but even as he lay there dying, he saw Will over him, crying.

Drake sat up suddenly, gasping for air. A strange old man with a long robe and weird purple hat was standing in front of him.

“It worked!” He jumped up, cheering, and landed holding his hip. Drake tried to stand, but his legs buckled underneath him.

“Oh no, no. You’re far too weak right now. You must rest. Guards!” He called out, and the door flung open. Two men in full metal armor were standing there

“Did it work!?” They asked in unison.

“You’re darn right it did!” The old man said gleefully, still holding his hip. “Now get him back to his room. He’s weak.”

“Oh Prince Justinius!” The men fell to their knees by him, touching his face with their cold metal hands.

“Prince… Justinius? But I’m…”

“Shh!” The old man quieted him. “He’s confused right now. Just take him to his room. Justinius, please don’t speak. You’re weak right now.” Drake allowed himself to be taken, or, more accurately, he couldn’t fight back. He really was weak. They held him as they went down steps for what seemed like an eternity. By the time they made it to the bottom, he could walk somewhat by himself, with just a bit of support, but he only became more and more confused.

“Where… is this?” The guards looked at him, confused.

“Prince Justinius! I told you not to speak.” The old man rushed from behind.

“Who is Prince Justinius?” He asked.

“What is he talking about?” The guard asked the old man. “Has he lost his memory?” The old man took a deep breath.

“Could you leave us alone for a brief moment?”

“But, your honor, with all due respect, considering what just happened…” The guard objected.

“Yes, well, please stand guard nearby. It will be but a moment.” The guards reluctantly moved away, looking alert for anything strange in their surroundings. The old man looked severely at Drake.

“Listen young man. I don’t know who you are or where you came from, but none of that matters anymore. Our prince was dying. No, rather, he was dead, and you were dead as well. I called a spirit from the afterlife to inhabit the body of our late prince, and that spirit just happened to be you. So forget about who you were before, now you are Prince Justinius. It doesn’t matter if you don’t accept it right now, but at least make it to your bed. We can have a fuller discussion in the morning.” He beckoned the guards back over

“But…” Justinius began.

“In the morning, son.”

They walked back to Jusinius’ room, which was quite a ways away, so that he was able to walk by himself by the time they made it to the parlor outside his room. A large crowd had gathered there, and at their approach someone yelled.

“The Prince lives!” and all erupted in applause. Justinius was confused, but all those people cheering for him, he couldn’t help but crack a smile. The people crowded on all sides, but the guards, being very protective at that moment, brandished their swords, and pushed them back.

“No one approaches the prince!” They yelled, as they entered his chambers. They stood guard outside as the priest went in with him. Justinius was unimpressed with his room. It was barely bigger than his room in his apartment, and the bed was even smaller, but he wanted nothing more than to lie down. As he got on the bed though, a knock came at the door.

“Sir, it is the Prince’s betrothed, Lady Beckinghall.” The guard called out.

“Send her away!” The priest answered.

“I demand to see my Prince at once!” A feminine voice called out. “I should get my father involved if you won’t let me!” The priest cursed under his breath, before replying.

“Alright, let her in.” A beautiful woman walked in, with pale, almost sheet white skin, blonde hair, and piercing blue eyes. She had on a long, elegant white dress with complex gold weaving laced over it. She saw Justinius and smiled broadly, her eyes tearing up. She ran to his side and got on her knees.

“Oh my beloved, how happy I am to see you’re alright.” She looked up into his eyes, and Justinius felt himself blush.

“Dear priest, can you please leave us alone for a moment.”

“As you wish, my lady.” The priest agreed, but he looked reluctant. She followed him to the door, seeing him out, and turned back. Her face had changed completely. Where there was once an overflowing happiness, was now anger incarnate.

“Just what do you think you are doing?” She asked, snapping at him. Justinius looked up at her, appalled. “You were supposed to die! You had agreed that you would die! What are you doing coming back like that?” She pulled something from her sleeve, a bottle. She uncorked it, and held it out to Justinius.

“There you go. Drink the rest of it. Right now.”