Dusk was settling cozily upon the Kingdom of Corona. It marked the beginning of a waning day, like so many other days the Kingdom had seen. Of late, these had been happy and prosperous. The King and Queen had recently been blessed with a beautiful (or so they say) baby girl after a marriage of almost ten years. Such an event would be a cause of great joy in any Kingdom, but for Corona, it was just as much a triumph, a glorious victory against fate's original design, for every able citizen had taken part in the search for the Golden Flower that saved the Queen's life and her child's. And when the flower worked its magic and both survived, all partook in a joyous celebration that would culminate in the event narrated in this story. Well, almost all…
To show their gratitude to their subjects, the King and Queen had hosted a grand event that day, a celebration throughout the City and beyond in which they themselves appeared and shared the merriment among their people. What made this event all the more special was the fact that the newly born Princess would also appear before the public. And the citizenry were overjoyed at the prospect of meeting the long awaited little one. After all, she was their Princess, their future Monarch- but above all she had been brought into this world by their combined struggle for her survival- and she was loved long before they had set eyes on her.
The streets were littered with purple flags embossed with a magnificent golden sun, which had previously been hung across the stalls lining the Market Place, had adorned the walls of homes and been waved from the fists of children running up and down the street. A gentle breeze picked up one of these on its wings and it twisted and turned, rose and fell through the air and landed at the feet of a shopkeeper closing up for the day. He picked it up and dusted it off before tucking it into the window frame of his Shop with a smile.
The Celebration had gone as smoothly as planned, and all was well.
Well… not exactly all, you see. ..
A skinny, floppy haired boy of eight currently made his way away from the City Center, towards the forest, eyes downcast and hands in his pockets. It was unusual for him to be walking alone, for usually he was flocked by at least two or three boys, all a head shorter than him, shadowing his every step and sometimes grabbing on to his sleeve as he rambled away about the harrowing tale of how he escaped from his last orphanage which fed the children on stew made of the Caretaker's old stockings. Well, sure, he bedazzled some of those tales with little embellishments here and there, all because he simply loved the affect they had on the younger ones, with their eyes as wide as saucers and mouths hanging open. He was too young to gauge the exact amount of reverence they held for him in their hearts, but he knew enough to judge the feeling he got whenever they looked at him as one which gave him a smug satisfaction- he was important. And that was all that mattered to him.
But at the moment, his mind was far from conjuring a story of his next great escapade. He felt as if a brick was weighing down on his little heart, which had just this morning been bursting with pride at having gained such an excellent spot as the King and Queen made their way towards the newly raised platform in the City Center.
"Eugene! Eugene! I want to see too!" A red head was bobbing up and down at his elbow, furiously tugging at his sleeve which was jerked away instantly.
"How many times have I told you, Lenny… My name is not Eu-",
"But Mrs. Quadling said-"
"Who's more important, me or Mrs. Quadling?" said with an imperiously raised eye brow.
"Well…"
The eyebrow went higher still.
"Alright, alright… I won't call you Eugene. Now will you please make room for me, Flynn?"
"That's much better. Here, give me your hand… Now do you see them way down the street? They'll be up here any moment now, and you can see the Princess. Don't know what the fuss is about though, she's only another old baby… What you should really be looking for is those horses! They say the King's horse is the fastest in the world! Boy, I'd love me one of those beauties…" he whistled his admiration and looked down at Lenny who was craning his neck for a better view.
"But I heard Mrs. Shepherd say that the Princess is the loveliest thing to have been ever born!"
"Pfft. Yeah right. That would be me, not some mushy faced little pink thing."
Lenny was on the point of retaliation, meaning to say something along the lines of when Flynn had been born, he must've been a mushy faced little pink thing too- when a certain beating of hooves against the cobblestoned pathway brought silence upon the crowd. And suddenly there they were. Eugene could not help but stare past the horse's mane, into the face of the man saddled upon it. He had a benevolent face, with deep set eyes that smiled kindly upon the crowd lining the street. On his left was a lady like no lady Eugene had ever seen before. He could tell she wasn't very tall, she sat with her legs to one side, purple robes splayed across the horse's back, her eyes wide and of the greenest green. She cradled in her arms a bundle of lilac, from which a distinctly blonde head poked through. And suddenly the smile was wiped from Eugene's face like lightening.
His heart started to beat frantically as he eyes remained glued to the woman's face. The way she was looking at the baby was heart wrenchingly familiar. It brought on a flood of memories of another kindly face from not so long ago. Memories kept locked away for appearance sake- he Eugene- no, Flynn- could not afford to care. But this was too much. His brown eyes remained transfixed upon the Queen as her arms tightened around the bundle when she jumped down from the horse. Had he ever been cradled like that? He remembered only too well.
"Mother! Look what I can do!"
The little boy brandished a wooden sword and swung it around his head twice before it fell square on his noggin.
A tall woman turned around and made her way to where he stood, in the middle a dirt track surrounded by apple trees branching out on either side. She held a basket full of blood red apples to her side, and currently placing it on the ground, hunched to where the boy had fallen.
" Eugene, you must be careful, my little Prince!" his mother smiled down at him with hazel eyes that mirrored his own. She picked him up carefully and dusted him off before handing him his wooden weapon and turning around again.
"But Mother, I am NOT a little Prince! I'm a vagabond!"
"Why Eugene! What an awful thing to say! Wherever did you hear that word? And no, you are certainly not a vagabond," she said in dismay.
"But I heard Grandma Fitzherbert calling Father a vagabond, so I want to be a vagabond too!"
"What I wouldn't give to whack that old lady over the head with a frying pan," she muttered under her breath before saying, "She didn't mean it, darling, and you know how Grandma is, she's getting old…"
But he was no longer listening, his sword having gained his rapt attention as he struggled to simultaneously wave it around his head in a flurry and keep pace with his Mother. Looking over her shoulder at the boy, she was suddenly seized with those inexplicable urges that Mothers sometimes succumb to. She put the basket at her feet, whipped around and swept the startled little boy into her arms, holding him close and swaying on her toes before planting a good dozen kisses on his face.
"Mo-ther!"
"You're my little boy, first of all, Prince or Vagabond or Pumpernickel bread!" She smiled down at him, hazel eyes shining and plopped him down on the ground as suddenly as she had seized him.
"EUGEE-EEN!"
He was abruptly shaken from his reverie by a fierce tug at his sleeve which nearly sent him tumbling down from the crate he had so precariously balanced himself upon.
"What?" he snapped at Lenny.
"I was only-"
"Gawd, Lenny! You are so annoying! Why don't you leave me alone? Huh? Oh forget it…"
He fiercely clawed away the guilt that seeped through as Lenny's eyes brimmed with tears and gingerly put a hand around his shoulder. Little Eugene, eight years old, could not stomach another's tears. Countless times he had shoved his fingers into his ears, covered his head with sheets and pillows to block out the wails of the little ones at the orphanage, gritting his teeth and fighting his instinct to bolt out the window. Presently, he clumsily patted Lenny's shoulder and in an attempt to distract him, said, "So that Princess, huh? I guess she's kinda cute. I think you might have a chance there…"
Lenny wiped his nose with his sleeve, sniffed once and then playfully shoved his companion's shoulder saying, "Oh shut up!" But he could not hide the grin that has crept upon his face and continued looking towards the platform.
The King and Queen were now waving to the crowd, and the King held his daughter in his arm. Flynn could see a shock of blonde hair surrounding a pink face with big wide green eyes. 'What kind of a baby was she anyway? Babies don't have that much hair. Or eyes that big. Huh. Weirdo,' thought Flynn bitterly. He stared solemnly at the happy family, his mind jumbled as he clicked his thin jaw to the side, biting his cheek. Memories of a face he tried to forget and yet hold desperately on to flooded his mind's eye.
He felt dizzy, sick.
"Hey Lenny, I think I'm going to go for a walk…"
"But-"
He had delved into the crowd and was out of earshot before Lenny could get the words out.
Eugene found himself in a darkened alleyway. The crowd's cheers and applause sounded faint, maybe because of the distance or because of the fierce pounding in his ears. He sidled down the wall, tiny hands bunched into fists around his hair as he fought the tear stinging his eyes, making it impossible to see.
"Eugene, hurry up! It's almost dark…" the voice was tired and wary.
"Mother, my feet hurt…"
She stopped in her tracks and looked over her shoulder, and the image of the little boy dragging his sword behind him wrung her heart. She didn't think his little feet could plod on much further…How much longer would he have to wait till she had saved enough to buy a horse? She cursed herself for her foolishness in bringing him with her in the first place.
"Well then, come to Mother… that's it. Put your sword in my basket but oh be careful- don't pierce those apples, strong man!" She had put on her cheery voice as the boy wrapped his arms around her neck. Balancing the basket and her child, she drew up to her full height and started walking. Eugene dug his face into his Mother's neck and closed his eyes.
"We're going to the market tomorrow you know- those apples won't stay fresh for long! And then Mother can soon get you that horse. I tell you, we'll have it before winter comes, and then you can take me to the farm and the market all on your own! You will, won't you?"
"Yes, Mother…" he murmured sleepily.
She had only taken a few paces before the sound of galloping hooves and drunken jeers reached her ear.
"Oh no…"
Eugene was alarmed at the fear in his Mother's voice as she walked from one side of the track to the other, desperately looking for a place to hide. She had put down the basket to one side and was now digging frantically around the bushes.
"Mother what are you looking for?" Eugene asked, searching his Mother's face.
"Eugene, listen carefully. We need to hide in here for a while… just for a little bit. Don't worry darling, don't look like that! There, just among the bushes and make sure you don't get seen. Now hush." She threw her dark cloak around him and placed him behind a thicket of trees.
Night had fallen, and only a sliver of moonlight lit the track in front of them.
Dust rose out in great billowing clouds as the horses halted, their owners dismounting with clinking sounds, feet unsteady upon the ground.
"The Apples!" Just as she was about to hunch down next to him, his Mother's eyes fell on the basket she had left behind.
It was a foolish move, a rash move. Made on impulse, made at the thought of the starving days they would have to endure were the apples to go to those filthy creatures, sparked as a sudden vision of her son clutching his stomach from hunger clouded her vision.
Eugene was frozen to his spot as he saw his Mother walk firmly into the clearing. A cloud stole over the moon, and he lost sight of her.
There were some shouts, a grunt; the sound of flesh slapped against flesh and then- a slash through the air and a loud thump.
The boy's breath caught in his chest. The sound of hooves was now dying away as Eugene crept out of his hiding spot and made his was blindly into the clearing. His feet slipped on something wet and he fell, hands first, into the dirt.
"Mother!"
No answer. And then he knew. His Mother would never make him cry out loud a second time.
As the clouds shifted, he saw before his eyes a pool of warm, dark liquid which covered his hands and knees. He saw the basket of apples knocked to the ground, their color the same as that of the strange dark liquid. And then he saw her. A mass of limbs and blood, sprawled on the ground, blank, hazel eyes staring into the sky. A deep gash stretched across her throat but Eugene would not look at that. It was not there. No. No. NO.
A blinding, suffocating darkness overcame him, and he knew no more.
Eugene jolted into consciousness. It was oddly quiet. The Celebration was over.
He would not think of the nightmare. It would not do. It was years ago, five to be precise. He blamed the vision on the morbid imagination of his three year old self. It probably never even happened.
He was used to deluding himself into believing such things- it had been the norm for a while now.
He sighed and propped his head against the wall, closing his eyes, forehead crinkled with concentration as he struggled to clear his mind. But it would not do. He rose suddenly and walked out in to the street, hands in his pocket, head bowed.
The streets were now deserted- it suited him. The Royal Bloody Family must've made its Royal Bloody Way back to the Royal Bloody Palace, then. Good. He didn't think he could stand the sight of that stupid little Princess. Or her stupid Mother, looking at her stupid little baby like she was her world. Which she probably was. Like he had been the world to someone, once upon a time.
"Aaarghh! Get out of my head already!"
He pulled at his hair with his fists and kicked the nearest thing in frustration which happened to be a lamp post. It hurt his toe so he punched it only to gain a stinging sensation in his knuckles.
"Darn you… stupid lamp post!"
"Talking to the lamp post, eh? Always good therapy…" a passerby winked at him.
Eugene rolled his eyes and glared at the retreating back before shoving his hands deep into his worn out pockets and making his way towards the forest. And this is where we find this enchanting young man at the present moment.
The Princess had done no personal harm to young Eugene, at least not intentionally. But at that point he felt as if his little heart would explode with the sheer amount of bitterness that he held for her- no, not her- for what was hers. A home and all the horses she could ever want. A palace milling with servant to do her every bidding and applaud madly at her every gurgle and faltering first step. She even had a whole Kingdom to moon over her. But most of all, she had a Mother. And Eugene felt that he could fall into a ditch somewhere and die and nobody would miss him or cry for him.
Sitting atop a hill overlooking the Palace, he gazed towards it until the sun went down and the sky shone with the brightest of stars. As he made his way down, a shadowy figure climbed its way up the Palace wall.
That night, as Eugene lay on the roof of the orphanage and gazed at the many stars above, he was filled with a fierce jealousy for all that was not his. The Princess would grow up to lead a blessed life while he- why, he would be nothing but a vagabond. And he wished with all his heart for it to not turn out so.