Chapter 5: Kail

What’s it like to drown? It was painful, suffocating, and every fiber of my being was aching for it to just end. I was brave for that one moment, a single decision to maybe look cool for once, to do something that was entirely for myself. Instead I ended up as a broken mess on the forest floor, but the leaves could be water for all I cared.

I couldn’t turn my head, I couldn’t move my limbs, I could only gurgle out a cry. Yes, I cried. What else was there to do, but to cry. I had always been taught to never crack under pressure, to become compressed into a diamond, but what if I wanted to shatter? To shatter and be split into all those little pieces that made me me.

It was a humbling thought, thinking of myself as small bits. It made me feel at peace, a small comfort in knowing that I wasn’t as alone as I thought I was, because I housed just as many me’s as did everyone else. There was no point to this, I thought, I’m dying. To think upon one’s death doesn’t make it meaningful or worldly. But it helped, I guess.

That guess turned into a certainty. I knew of certainty, it strove for my excellence. That certainty became determination. I determined my own fate, to be with my friends until the bitter end. Determination flowered into something new. Those tiny little pieces of me swirled itself around whatever consciousness that existed within the solitary comfort of my own mind.

To wake up when you didn’t even realize you fell asleep is one thing. To wake up when you know you shouldn’t have woken up had a deep emotional impact on me. My entire existence up to that very point was a lie, a fabrication of my parents’ ideals. This existence, this wakefulness was…something else. A fresh start, an exciting but equally terrifying prospect.

My eyes adjusted to a dimly lit outdoors. Gray clouds overcast, but tranquil in their own right. I stared, eyes watered for no reason I could find, when giant cold hands suddenly grabbed my decidedly naked waist. I instinctively gasped out only to find that my mouth had been open the entire time and was screaming out, announcing my very presence in this new world.

I was raised up on high and my blurred eyes saw a huge gathering of people staring back up at me. To say it was unsettling was an understatement. I felt immense fear and to my utter horror, I felt myself relieving myself, but not a single word was whispered. A sharp intake of breath then disturbed my right ear, causing me to flinch.

“The King and Queen have produced a prince! I present to you, Prince Kail Comte the Second!” The loud voice that, frankly, shook my fragile being was immediately drowned out by the roar that thundered from the people below.

I think I passed out as I then woke up in the softest sheets I had ever laid upon. Questions ran through my head, but perhaps the one at the forefront and probably the one that will never be answered; why was I alive?

This was the very question I asked my personal tutor years later, of course not adding the fact that I had been reincarnated.

“Well, in terms of what, my Prince?” Gradua asked politely, but I could see the weariness behind his eyes. It made sense, I suppose. I was still very young. “There’s biological, mythological, causality, dutiful, perhaps a bit more that I would like to not discuss.”

“Mythological maybe? What does that mean?” I was still getting a hang of the language and this one didn’t make much sense to me.

“Mythological. Our origins. The story of our people, the land, the foundation of all things.” My tutor paused and sighed. I suppose my clearly unrestrained curiosity was conveyed clearly. Maybe, just maybe, if I learn about this world’s myths, I would be able to understand my reincarnation. “Then take notes, my Prince. I was hoping to tell you of our deities much later, but if my Prince wishes, then it shall be so.

“To begin with, let us start with The Writer. The cosmic force that tells stories. To define this being as anything more than that would be a disservice to not only the deity, but to all who emulate The Writer. The entire story of civilization and even before, from our grandest Kingdom to our most finite plant that grows in rock, a story can be told. That is the will of The Writer, and as the deity guides all, you too are following a story that is yet to be told.

“Then there’s The Reaper. A pink-haired entity, believed to take the form of a soft-spoken woman. She guides the souls away from their final resting place, often singing a lullaby to soothe the recently departed and those they left behind. She’s…”

“Where does she lead the souls too?”

“That, my Prince, is not for the mortal mind to comprehend.” The tutor sighed, a new expression creasing his graying brows. “To be frank, my Prince, myths hold very little meaning nowadays. They’ve fallen to the wayside, only uttered on the outskirts of the Kingdom. We…people…is there a point to old stuffy tales of supposed deities?”

“I don’t know, Mr. Gradua, but what are stories that don’t soothe the soul?”

“Reality.” He laughed a little, the helpless look receding. It was this very line in his application that made me choose him as my tutor in the first place. It reminded me a little too much of myself and perhaps, subconsciously, I wanted something familiar by my side in this strange new world.

Whenever a tutor session would end, I could roam the castle grounds under supervision. Oftentimes I would find myself on a certain balcony that overlooked the Kingdom’s capital: Irscen and the beauty that surrounds that castle. I liked this view, what looked like pink cherry trees overhanging off the hill that the castle sat upon, over the city down below, like a protective hug. It would sit with me, the view, as if reminding myself that this is a new world, bringing me down to earth.

Then, as if to really simulate that comfort, I would then walk down to the gardens. I’ve visited enough times to recognize the gardeners by face and would occasionally greet them, all the while having a knight walk behind me.

It was a far cry from what I knew. All this wealth, this power, this responsibility that came with just being a prince. It was…confusing. I didn’t know what to do with this, so I stayed quiet. Soft greetings, small nods, ghosts of a smile, merely walking to the destination I was desperately looking for.

The largest difference lay with his new parents. The literal King and Queen of the Kingdom. They were caring, even to the small people, those people often would assume were beneath their station. Such kindness though can be exploited and creates complacency.

The knight tasked to keep me safe would ask boldly, but in a very polite manner every time I would ‘accidently’ walk past a certain part of the garden. “Uh, my Prince?”

“Yes?” It was a small game I had cultivated with him over time. Formality was just a byproduct of societal expectations and I treated it as such. All with one goal in mind.

“Would it be alright if I left you for a while, my Prince? We can meet at the Monen ashen tree later as usual.” It was a very lucky thing knights had to wear helmets otherwise it would’ve been quite easy to see his anxious face.

“Of course.” I smile. “Tell Gardener Ria of my best wishes!”

“Oh thank you, you are too kind, my Prince.” And then he would hurry off, leaving me alone.

On a day not unlike all the other monotonous days, I chanced on a largely unused guard door leading to a guard tower. From the gossip I’ve heard amongst the knights, patrols around this area are so lax because of the natural barrier that is a mountain the castle is built against.

I slipped in with nary an alarm. It was too easy, and concerningly so. Maybe I should ask my personal knight about it. But, for now, it was time to explore. One thing I’ve found since coming here was that there wasn’t really much to do, being a prince and all. I was severely limited to the castle and the castle grounds and while there was much to learn to become a king, the King decided that it was too early for me to learn everything, leaving me with not much to do.

I mused on this boredom as I rummaged through the guard tower. I tried my best to be careful when looking around, if my clothes got dirtier then it should be, my handmaid would get mad at me. I shivered at the thought. Handmaidens don’t get enough credit.

I found a broom in a corner and started to clean a bit. One way to prevent getting dirty is to get rid of the grime altogether. As I swept away the dust, a small breeze tickled my ankles, surprising me. Curious, I tracked down the source of the breeze to an empty weapons rack. Some peeking later and I found a crack in the wall.

The smell of freedom hit me harder than I thought it would and I found myself furtively scrabbling at the rack, trying to pull it away from the wall. It took some effort to the point where my handmaid would definitely scold me enough, but I managed to leverage the rack far enough from the wall so I could just about squeeze myself through the crack.

One squeeze later and the mountainous face greeted me with all the patience of a sleeping giant. I smiled softly at the breeze as it ruffled my now dusty lapels. The area I had crawled into was kind of cramped as the castle walls were built quite close to the mountain itself before wedging itself into a steep cliff. Unlike inside with gardeners and maintained paths, I grinned, delighted at the untamed nature just one wall away.

I joyfully took steps, following the wall away from the cliff face and into more the plateau on which the castle was built. My goal for today was to find the pink trees or at the very least, find a path that went to the trees. I’ve always seen them from the balcony, lurking over the castle walls, but now I've got the chance to touch the bark and witness it up close in all of its pink glory.

Creeping ever so carefully, I made my way along the wall, the act getting more and more dangerous as the terrain leveled out more and more, getting ever so closer to the beginning of the city outside the castle walls.

My joy fell with every step I took, the fear of getting caught burrowed ever so deeper. Just as I was about to head back, a small peek along the castle walls’ curve revealed the small hilltop on which the trees sat, overlooking the city proper below the plateau. Excited, I scampered with such happiness I had not felt in quite a long time and practically hugged the tree tight.

It made no sense to me, even in the moment, but it felt right. It felt real. It felt like meeting up with a distant friend. After what had to be a minute at least, I finally let go of the tree and practically collapsed against it. It felt nice, the breeze on my face, the earth grass underneath my fingers, and the gnarled bark of the tree against my back.

“Hey.”

My heart dropped as I whipped around trying to find the source. No one. Terror mixed with confusion warred in my head as I started to get up. My instincts screamed at me to bolt but I knew that that would be worse, so instead I inched back to the wall, but before I could touch it, a stick bounced off my back.

“Up here, you dimwit.” I glanced up, eyes wide, to see another boy, similar in age, sitting in the tree. Embarrassment soon overwhelmed me. “I’ve never seen someone be so happy when they hug a tree. I’ve never even seen a person hug a tree, ever!”

“Yes, yes. Very funny.” I grumbled, trying to push the embarrassment back down. “Who are you and what are you doing here?”

“Bossy much?” The boy grinned before jumping out of the tree only to land neatly. Then he struck an elegant pose. “But I shall oblige, my Prince. My name is Dancing Shadow, a true pleasure to meet you. As for what I am doing, I am merely watching the clouds drift by. But, I think the real question is, what are you doing here, my Prince?”

“...” There was something very off about the boy that I couldn’t place my finger on, but he seemed real, he seemed familiar. A sense of honesty that I haven’t seen all that often within the castle. “I wanted to see the trees.”

The boy’s elegant facade broke immediately into laughter. “Haha! Yes, that was plain to see. Quite affectionate, one might say. Heehee.”

It was as he was gripping his sides, shaking with laughter, that I could finally see what was bothering me. His clothes were tattered, practically falling apart. His bare arms showed markings I’ve seen on Akari and in movies. His bones jutted out at a very concerning degree. Akari’s face flashed through his mind, the face of acceptance and peace as she fell.

My embarrassment dissolved immediately. I walked over to where the boy was still laughing and grabbed him by the shoulders. Confusion with a touch of fear laced his eyes, but I held him still. “Dancing Shadow. I am going to give you my clothes and you will accept them. You will then sell it for money, okay?”

He blinked, utter confusion marking every feature. “Uh…”

I wasted no time and stripped. I only took the outer layer off, leaving my undergarments on, and passed it over. “I don’t know how much money this will get you, but it was made by the royal tailor. It should get you enough. If it doesn’t…I don’t know, come by the tree again in three days around the same time.” I looked at the sun, it was getting kind of late. I pried open his fingers and shoved the clothes into it. “I have to go now, but make sure you sell it, okay?”

Without making sure he understood, I turned on my heels and creeped my way back. I hadn’t realized how much time had passed and there was some sort of urgency forcing my movements, but my mind was completely occupied on the boy and on Akari. A new resolution boiled within him. When he becomes King, he’ll find a way to make the world just a bit better so nothing like that will happen ever again.