The Dark Prince

Written by by patricia C wrede and as told by Baen Skall

Some time ago, long before the 7 Kings of Asleera, where was the great kingdom of Han Sunan. One hundred years ago, it stood as a mighty empire, but now, after its abrupt fall, it was nothing more than ruins, divided among 7 tribes, all of which were known as the Kingdom of Asleera.

Buy in its time, Han Sunan was great and powerful with a strong King upon the thrown. The peoples were happy and the country rejoiced in its success and riches.

On such an occasion, the King celebrated the coming of age of his only daughter, Ezeldra, who was rumored to be the most beautiful maiden that any man had laid eyes upon!

Now there were those who envied the power of Han Sunan, and its riches,and Ezeldra was a prize to be ahd indeed. And anyone who wed her would hold the Keys of Power and would be the new Furtur King!!

And thus, came the Dark Prince of Agador, a cruel and conniving soul!! To the festival he rode, his greed glinting in his eye. Those who knew him made way in fear of his sorcery, those who did not fled in fear of his sinister stare!

As the people feasted, the Dark prince rode his ebony steed into the great hall! The King rose from his throne, demanding that the Prince vacate at once!! Fear struck the fair wishers of Ezeldra and they cringed back in silence.

“I am here to claim that which is mine!” the Dark Prince demaded. The King, aghast refused bluntly. “I will have her, you cannot deny me!! Long have I paid tribute to Han Sunan, and for my efforts I shall receive her and the Keys of Power!!”

Again the King refused. The Prince Knew that the Keys had to be given willingly, and he knew neither the King nor Ezeldra would concede.

“Then you have written your doom!!” With an upturned hand, the Prince uttered the Forgotten Words and from the stones rose mighty vines of blood red.

They rose high along the walls, blocking out the sun. No one fled, for as the vines rose, the people fell to their knees, slumped over tables, and lay upon the floor, is a deep sleep.

Even the King was lost to unconsciousness, and when the castle had been completely consumed, the prince too Ezeldra and carried her to the tallest tower where he lay her upon a bed of straw.

“Long shall thee sleep, your eye fettered, your mind bound by my will, until one comes to release you, one who will change thy heart. And when you have risen, thine rescuer shall die by my hand, unless thee gives me the Keys of Power.”

And so he left her, and rode away. And when the people of Han Sunan saw that their Kings abode was overthrown by vines of evil nature, they warred upon themselves, vying to become the new King.

But some remembered the old ways and as the years passed, the stones crumpled with age, and the vines became as black as coal. The Prince fell in battle and his legend was lost to folklore.

And it was these few who remembered that kept the legend alive. And many young men came to rescue the Princess, the gain honor and glory, but none could penetrate the thorns, for they still held some of the power of the Dark Prince, for they had been conjured by the Forgotten Words, and by only those could they be cast down again.

Until one day a woodcutter and his wife moved into a cottage near the old ruin.

They were an elderly folk, with nothing but each other. Their children had all moved away and were happily raising families of their own.

And so it was that one evening, as the woodcutter sat sharpening his axe, that from the woods came a youth.

At first the woodcutter was afraid, for the youth carried a sword of the palest silver and his eyes were pools of blackness, but as the he drew near, he saw it was a young man, fair of skin, and of handsome build. And the youth spoke sorrowful words.

“woodcutter, I bid thee follow, for I am in need of your assistance.” the woodcutter hesitated. Where was the young mans horse? His gear? But for the sword, we worn naught but a black tunic and breeches.

Come, come with me” the youth pleaded. The woodcutter finally consented and was about to lay aside his axe. “bring your axe with you” the youth suggested and motioned him into the direction of the castle.

The woodcutter had no fear of the old ruin. No harm had befell him by its presence near his home, but never had he ventured this close! Within its twisted vines, he could see the remains of heroes who had lost their lives while trying to enter the keep. But the vines had ensnared them.

The youth paused before the black vines and turned to the woodcutter. “take thine axe and strike thus” the youth made a motion toward the creepers. The woodcutters eye fell to the dead heroes and he refused.

“please, while I am with you, no vine will touch you.” the youth pulled a candle from under his tunic and with a word a flame rose from the wick. “I have magic they will not cross.”

So the woodcutter toiled long and hard, his mind in question of the youth and his purpose. But having lived long, asking questions often came to naught, so he worked until the sun nearly rose, with the youth encouraging him every step of the way.

And as the sun began to lighten the sky, the youth urged him faster. “my time here is short!! Please hurry!” The work continued until they came to a rusted gate, the entrance to the keep.

“enter woodcutter. Enter and follow the stairs to the highest tower!” The woodcutter did as he was bid, carrying his axe along with him. The youth followed through a courtyard of rotten carrages, and the bones of long dead horses.

As the entered the castle, the first rays of the sun gleamed through the broken stained glass windows and there before them lay a spectacle of macabre proportions!!

The great hall had nothing left but the remains of the dead festival goers. The food was long turned to dust, there clothing as well, nothing but tatters and bones and a King with his crown upon his head.

“Hurry” the youth said, pointing to the stairs. “why?!” the woodcutter demanded as he hesitated on the dangerously rotten stairs. The youth saw the determination in his eyes and sighed, glancing at the ray sof rhe sun.

“a long time ago, I made a great wrong. My soul is in torment these long year and I must right what I have done if I am to find peace.” the youth look sadly at the sunlight, reaching out, he waved a hand througha wayward ray. It passed through him.

The woodcutter stared. “You are a phantom!” He gasped. The youth nodded. “yes, but there is no time! Once the sun is fully risen, this will be my last day upon this earth to right my deed! Please hurry!” the woodcutter cast his eye over the scene of death below him.

Gold of Kings lay before him, but it was tainted by death and by evil. He shuddered, but did as the youth had asked. Up the stairs he climed till he came to the top most tower and there lay the beautiful Ezeldra, inchanged and unblemished by time.

“hurry, you mist kiss her and break this spell. Bring her back and this final wrong will be righted!!” the youth urged.

The woodcutter however was old as he was wise and looked upon the youth, his eyes clouded in rage.

“you are the dark prince!” the woodcutter said accusingly, the youth stepped back surprised. “you did this and killed these people! You have robbed this girl of her family and her birthright!! You shall not prevail and you shall not be forgiven!! I will not wake her and watch you torment her further!! I know the tale of your curse and I shall not allow it to come to pass!!

In a single swift movement the woodcutter tore the pale sword from the hands of the Dark Prince, but the phantom only laughed!

“what will you do? Kill me woodcutter?? I am already dead!! The youths laugh was sinister and cruel. But the woodcutter did not hesitate, his strong arms, used to wielding an axe, lifted the pale sword with ease and in a single swipe, he thrust the long blade into the chest of the sleeping beauty.

With a gasp, the Prince cried out in aguish, his fury ringing off the old stone walls. The princess opened her eyes, pale blue and stared into the eyes of the woodcutter. With her dying gasp, she cried out as though the hundred years had stolen her voice.

The Dark Prince reached out to her, but quickly the old woodcutter tore away the tattered curtains, allowing the sun to cast ist rays over the evil youth. Shrieking, the phantom vanished. The woodcutter slumped against the wall.

After a moment, the old man took up his axe where he had dropped it and made his way back down to the great hall, and to his amazement, he saw the ghosts of the dead nobles dancing and singing, and Ezeldra, spinning happily toward him.

“thank you!” she said as she blew him a kiss. And all at once, the façade vanished. And only the golden rays of the sun remained.