"The story is continuing. The story is alive."

With the window thrust open, exposing the room to the night sky and curtains to a gentle breeze - Fakir let out a scream. A blood-curtailing, soul-wrenching cry to the heavens. The kind of scream filled with so much pain and agony it stirs the deepest recesses of any soul who happens upon its terrifying sound. The kind of scream that is only uttered when the most terrible of circumstances and darkest of despairs comes crashing down on a person suddenly and simultaneously.

The light from the half-moon played shadows across his face - accenting the troubled emotions that were tormenting him. When the sound had faded into the darkness, Fakir leaned out the window, his forearms supporting him as he stared out into the city below, but his eyes did not take in the murky shapes of the building below. His breathing became hard as he cursed inwardly. Cursing himself. Cursing everyone involved. Cursing the world. He remained that way until he heard the door click open and heavy footsteps make their way to him.

He felt a hand on his shoulder. He did not need to look up to know whose hand it was. It was the hand had comforted him, scolded him, held him, molded him. It was the hand that had taught him so much, and guided him through even more. It was the hand of his guardian and mentor: Karon.

Fakir didn't look up. Karon didn't expect him to. "It won't do anyone any good, you wasting your time blaming yourself."

That made Fakir turn and look up at the man who had always been there for him. Fakir's eyes shown with his pain, his doubts and anger etched on his face.

'But...'. Even if Fakir didn't say anything, the word hung in air, its presence weighing heavily on the minds of the two men.

Karon smiled a warm, wise, fatherly smile. "No buts. It wasn't your fault."

"It was my fault! It's my job to protect him!" The words burst from his mouth as the anguish vibrated in Fakir's voice.

"And it will be until the day his heart stops beating forever," Karon said as his voice became decidedly more grave.

Fakir's emerald eyes widened ever so slightly in shock at the implied meaning.

"So what are you going to do, Knight of Geldkrown?" Karon's question blazed a challenge into the night.

Fakir looked up, full of determination. "I. . ." but the words died his lips. Fakir faltered as his doubts clouded his mind. The unspoken question danced in his eyes. 'I don't know. What can I do?'

Karon didn't say anything, but his face spoke volumes. 'You know what to do.'

"But it's forbidden!" Fakir exclaimed in shock, as Karon's meaning dawned on him.

"You are the most trusted and feared knight in all of the land. And the most loyal. Will you let the laws of the kingdom stop you from saving its future king?"

The look in Fakir's eyes said everything, but he spoke, "I will protect him. I will risk my life and everything I have for Mytho."

"I know," Karon said with the slightest of smiles. That was his son after all. Fakir turned and started walking towards the door

"No." The word came out forceful and with the hint of fatherly affection, as Karon held the boy against the pressure of his hand. Fakir looked at him with slight surprise. At that, Karon let out a small laugh. "You won't be any good to anyone half-dead from exhaustion. I know you were planning on leaving at this very moment."

"But -" Fakir protested.

"Fakir." There was a stern look in Karon's eye, ringed with the faint touch of amusement. "You can start out at first light. For now, get some sleep."

"Fine," grumbled Fakir and he tromped off to bed.

He hated that Karon was right, and even worse had made him see sense. But in truth, Fakir was grateful for the rest. The events of the night had been very exhausting, and he knew he would need it. "I will protect him,"was the last thing that entered the knight's mind before sleep took him.

With Fakir in bed, Karon took his leave, his task weighing heavily on his mind.

xXx

When Fakir said he was leaving at first light, he meant it. As such, he was up long before the cock crowed to prepare for his journey. He was glad he had listened to Karon, the sleep had done him good. His focus was much clearer and his body was refreshed.

He stared down at his supplies, running over in his mind that he had everything. "Food, water, my sword, a couple daggers, extra blankets just in case," he checked of mentally. "And a enough money to buy a small village," he scoffed. As his eyes scoured the piles on his bed, they fell on a smallest of the bundles - his ballet uniform. "Why am I taking this!" Fakir both pondered and scolded.

Sure, ballet had been something he and the young prince had both loved. Though, Fakir only started on the request of his charge; he too had fallen in love with the dance. "Still, that was no reason to take anything extra! - I need to travel fast and that means light. I don't have space for sentimental frivolities." But Fakir couldn't bear to put the outfit back.

"Trust your instincts, Fakir - well all else fails, they will lead you straight," Karon's instruction echoed in his mind.

"Whatever . . . " Fakir muttered as he gathered his provisions and equipment and made his way down to the stables. He needed to be prepared to leave as quickly as possible. Once he procured the most valuable item, he wouldn't have a lot of time to leave.

Fakir had just finished fastening the bags to his horse and was leading his dark-chestnuts companion to a hidden spot next to a side entrance of the castle, and tying him safely up. "I can't believe I'm doing this..." the knight mumbled as he began to retrace his steps. Going in and out the same door would not be safe.

"The most forbidden, taboo thing in the kingdom - next to murder - and I'm about to do it!" The door connecting the stable and the castle clicked open. Fakir slipped in silently. "But, what choice do I have? Nothing is more important than Mytho. I will do whatever it takes to protect him! I may have to pay the price when I return - but at least Mytho will be safe. That is all I can ask."

Fakir's cloak billowed behind him as he ascended the stairs, finally reaching a small door on the right he pulled out his dull bronze key, one of five in the whole kingdom, and clicked it open. His eyes searched the hoarded mess of assorted items as he though, "Even if the death penalty doesn't exist here, I can't expect much better." It sent a slight tremor of fear through him as he thought of his future fate. But he pushed the thought away as he finally found the object of his query: a small, rather plain, mahogany box.

Maneuvering through the maze of stuff, Fakir picked up the box and with a few complicated motions, a side panel popped open revealing another key. This one smaller, silver, and very intricate. Quickly, Fakir grabbed the key and glided out of the room - not bothering to relock the room, he'd be back soon enough.

He raced down the hall, darted through the corridors, and started ascending another flight of stairs - these to take him to the highest turret the palace had. Glancing out a spare window, Fakir saw that, while dawn had not yet struck, the misty rays of gray that came before were starting to appear. He quickened his stride.

Finally, he reached the top, where nothing but large window revealing the kingdom beyond and a tapestry of swan in a rose garden awaited him. Drawing back the fabric, Fakir revealed a dark, heavy door. Inserting the key he had taken, he unlocked the door and entered.

The sight that met him really was magnificent. The solid stone walls and domed roof were draped in soft lavender and cream curtains, rimmed with gold trimming. Candles lit by magic, burned every night eternally, illuminating everything in their soft glow. Towards the top of the room, encircling the entire chamber were dozens of tiny windows. Too small for even a magpie to get through. It was a room of great beauty, but also one of utmost secrets.

But the most wondrous thing, was that which rested on the delicate pedestal, cushioned by a silk, snow-white pillow rimmed with a delicate pink fringe, giving a radiant glow all of its own - a small golden crown. The crown of the Forgotten Princess.

It was a tiny thing, not ostentatious at all. It was no bigger than Fakir's fist. It looked like a golden egg, broken to give the ridges of a real crown.

She had not worn it, of course, she had been too young. A prince or princess was not given any sort of royal ornamentation until their thirteenth birthday. But it had been crafted especially for her at birth. And she had spent enough time around it for it to absorb her powers, as such was its nature. Though, no one had any idea what the full extent of those were. But one of which, had been the ability to track down any person or thing that was extremely important to her.

It may have been almost twelve years, but he was sure that it would still remember the love she had held for her brother. If anything could track down Mytho, it would be his sister's crown - or more accurately her power.

Fakir reached out to grab the golden crown, but just before his hand clasped the cool metal - he hesitated. "Should I really be doing this?" he couldn't help but question. But the image of Mytho trapped and in pain, shrouded by the shadows of evil, flashed across his mind. That solidified his resolve and quickly snatching the glowing egg he stuffed it in his bag.

xXx

Fakir slide out of the side door, the one close to where his stead had been tied. Hurrying to his horse, Fakir began double checking the fastening on his bags and untying his horse. He had already been sure to reseal the Room of the Crown, fix the tapestry to be just as it was before showing no signs of human interference, return the key and the box to their original locations, and relock the treasure room. The discovery of the stolen crown could be discovered within minutes or it could be days - Fakir didn't want to wait to find out. He leapt on his horse.

"Trying to leave without saying goodbye?" an amused voice cut through the air. Fakir whipped around.

Retzel.

"She would,"Fakir thought bitterly. He did not say anything but his eyes narrowed at her as Karon appeared from around the corner.

"Well it is Fakir," mocked the smith. Seeing he wasn't getting out of this easily, he slid of his horse with a sigh.

"Karon told me what you were up to," Retzel chortled. "Can't say I approve, but I know you won't be stopped. But be safe," her voice sweet and full of concern as she drew him into a hug.

Fakir looked into her face and gave the slightest of smiles. "I will," he promised.

At that Retzel brightened. "Good. Then I have something for you," she said with an elegant if mischievous smile. It made Fakir slightly wary.

Retzel turned away rummaging in ... something. Eventually, she fished out the package she was looking for. She handed it to him with grin. Fakir started when he took the package. It was a solid, heavy, rectangle - wrapped in plain brown paper, sealed with wax and in the wax were two small flowers. One small, fluffy, and pink. The other larger, rather poofy, and white - rimmed with red.

"Wha?" questioned Fakir.

"When it's time, you'll know," she replied. Fakir's eyes narrowed slightly at her mystic answer. He didn't even noticed her digging around again. "Here," she said handing him a shiny wooden box. It was one he recognized.

It was a present from her from a birthday long ago. When he still nothing but a tike, and still scribbled out nonsensical stories. It was his writing kit. It held the finest parchment, ink and quills. Well, maybe not the quills. They were very fine and beautiful - but still they were just duck feathers. Why one of the finest writing sets came with duck quills was something he never understood.

He would have never taken it under any normal circumstances. It was even more frivolous and pointless than his ballet uniform. And heavier. But he could not deny the girl who had been so like a sister to him.

"Thank you."

"Of course," she replied smiling and kissed him lightly on the cheek. "Now, I have errands to do, so I'll leave you two alone."

Fakir started slightly, having almost forgotten about the presence of the old man. Retzel drifted off while Fakir stored the gifts in a spare pouch thinking, "What kind of errands could she possibly have at this hour?"

Fakir's attention was once again attracted to his adopted father as Karon approached the knight, rather solemn.

"I too have something for you," Karon hesitated. "Am I really sure I want to do this? Of course I do," he resolved. "I have to." Fakir's eyes swam with confusion and concern. This wasn't like Karon.

"Here." Karon handed Fakir a sword.

Fakir was taken aback. While the scabbard was plain enough. The hilt was magnificent. Black flames blazing up to the purple gem pommel. Its crossbar was intricate ribbons of silver gold and purple, Fakir saw they were meant to be something more - but he had no idea what.

He took the sword, and it almost vibrated at his touch.

"This is Lohengrin," explained the smith. "I have been keeping it. It is to be yours now."
This caught Fakir even more off guard thnt simply seeing the sword. He had seen pictures of Lohengrin, and that is not what it looked like. Except, maybe for the violet jewel. That looked the same. Essentially. It kind of glowed. He was pretty sure that wasn't in the pictures.

All of his doubts came out in one gruff word, "How?"

"Only a select few can wield this sword. And they add a mark of themselves to it. It will symbolize all past and future wielders too. This was a secret chosen not to revealed as common knowledge. Now it is yours."

Fakir was beyond honored and still rather confused, and had it been anyone but Karon they would have thought Fakir indifferent. But Karon knew better, he knew his son. He could see those emotions swimming deep within his eyes.

He knew if he did not explain, Fakir would be haunted with unanswered questions. So he said, "This sword was forged for true knights, of all realms: honest, noble, and pure-hearted. It was created for the sole purpose of protection, to help and save those most dear to the one who wields it. Through this weapon, strength and worth may be found, " Karon clarified, the wise-old-man side of him shinning through.

Fakir unsheathed the sword. It was a beauty to behold, one side marked with runes the other an ancient tongue, Fakir knew he recognized it but he did not know from where. It almost took his breath away. Almost.

"Thank you, Karon." And the sincerity in his voice was real. As was the love. He truly was grateful for everything the old blacksmith had done for him.

A cock crowed, startling them both. "Now, hurry! Before the guards awaken. You must be one your way!" And with a final embrace, Fakir jumped back on his golden-manned mount and galloped away.

The worry shown in Karon's eyes as he rode away, but also the pride he felt for the boy he called son. "He has truly grown up, now. I think fate waits for him on this journey."

"Please protect him," he whispered the prayer to whatever God may be.

xXx

Fakir rode fast and hard, he had to get out and get to Mytho, as quickly as any man (and horse) was able. Morning was fully upon him as he reached the city gates. "I wasted too much time back at the castle!"

He crossley whipped out the stolen egg and whispered, hoping with all of his might it would work, "Take me to Mytho." The crown began to glow and Fakir could sense which direction it was pulling him. The luminance seemed brighter that way.

So he galloped. Following the glowing crown. He did not care if it seemed ridiculous or foolhardy. It was his only hope. He followed that shining, broken orb across fields, and rivers, and even through a small village. It seemed to be taking him on the quickest route to exiting the kingdom. But still he pursued it until he came to a sudden line, of rather dark, ominous, trees. It was there he pulled his horse to a stop.
Fakir looked apprehensively at the forest before him. "I should have figured as much," he grumbled. "The Waldschrecken."

The Forest of Secrets.

"Once upon a time, there was a man who died."

READ ME!

Hey guys. StarPrincessTally here!
Just a couple of things I wanted to go over with you guys so you know how it'll work in the future. ;)

First and most importantly - This section will be filled with lots of background info, comments, questions, ect., ect. Even if you don't wanna read all that -Watch Out for this Symbol:
,_,
{0,0}
|)_)
/ " "
That will mean I have important information to tell you. It might be a bonus chapter or it might be me going on hiatus. I don't know yet. But you should always read it if Mr. Owlet appears. :P (I promise to direct you right to the important info, so you don't have to read all the fluff if you don't want to!)

Secondly and last of the important- the rating. It is rated Teen for language, fantasy volience, mild sexual themes, and a lot of pyschological torment. But its also rated T for just for safety. Just think the actual show and you got it!

xXx

Extra BG Junk (Including a Mini-Contest):

Guys, I'm gonna need Your help! To making sure I pace myself correctly and keep the characters in you, know - character. I hate it more than anything when they go OOC. Thanks ;)

So this a fairytale/Tutu story. But I don't want to spoil with fairytale. The first person to guess, with real reasons - not just random guessing will win! What you might ask. Well, I will insert one small plot occurrence or twist as long as it doesn't completely go against my story. Say for example, a book falling on Autor's head causing him to temporarily fill in the blank! (*evil laugh). Or something like that.

xXx

So I hope you've enjoyed my story so far. And will continue to do so. REVIEW. It brings Tally JOY. (It also encourages me to write faster.) Big thanks to xQueenyLeAcH for Beta-ing. She really helped make this story a lot more readable, and just generally better. (Oh and I'll try to keep these extras shorter next time! :P)

Disclaimer: Princess Tutu is not mine. *tear* Nope. Copyright infringement isn't what I'm goin' for. And I have a slightly bad habit of talking too much over da net.

Starlight Be With You,

Tally-Ho!

"All you children who love stories, come gather round."