Ok, I'm back, with a newer, very different, and hopfully better verison of "Fiyero's Journel." For those of you who have read the first verison, try to forget about it ok? This is going to be quite different of a version. Fiyero's culture and family life are going to fit into the story better than the first time around. It is also going to go slower. I am going to update less frequently, in hopes of getting the story set. The first six to seven chapters I plan on taking place in his home city of Kaptio. The city of Kaptio is located on the west edge of the Lesser Kells in the Vinkus. It is a city created within high walls built up a thousand years ago. Another thing that I improved on was character names. Everyone we meet in Kaptio has a foregin name that means something. There are also going to be foregin terms for items used here. I will list all of the meanings for odd words at the bottom of each entry.

Now...enjoy. No serious flames. Small flames are okay, but no big ones.

Entry 1

One hundred and two degrees. That's what the thermometer reads. The shade under the canopy on the balcony did not provide much shelter from the blazing sun, which cooks the land dry this time of year, which is mid-summer. The frequent rains won't return until late summer, early fall, that's a few months away

I am writing this under the shade of that canopy, while chewing on asweet purplejaam fruitMy name is Fiyero Tiggular. I am, in legal terms, the first born son of King Musfin and Queen Lani Tiggular, and heir to the throne of the Arjiki. But that's only if you get legal and technical. I don't like to.

My uncle and I had a fight earlier today, which is why Number One, I am locked in my room with no way to get out. It is also why, Number Two, I am writing in this journal, which just seams weird for a male, especially a seventeen-year-old prince. But Negatwa, one of the servants in the palace, left this on the foot of my bed the other day after she came in to clean the fireplace and water the plants.

One might wonder why a fight with my uncle, (and not my father or mother) got me locked in my room for the rest of the day. Well, let's just put it this way, my father is too tied-up with state and trade matters and personal issues to worry about me, and my mother, well, is not around anymore to fight with me, not that I ever fought with my mother, and if I did, I always lost.

What me and my Uncle Mejnun were fighting about was the usual: Why do I manage to get myself kicked out of every college Uncle Mejnun sends me too? I have gotten myself kicked out of two colleges here in the Vinkus. For me, there is one simple reason for me getting myself kicked out of every school possible. I want to help my father. My father has never recovered from my mother's sudden, unexpected passing seven years ago. I want to help him and I can't do that when I am away. I want to show him that I can be a good ruler. But I want to learn that from him, not teachers that I don't know.

"What in the world is your father and I going to do with you. You think this whole thing is a big joke, well, it is not!" The fight began just the way every fight began.

"How about, for starters, leave me alone! I am seventeen, not seven! I can think for myself!"

"Well, I think that a seventeen-year-old should be able to think for himself and by thinking for himself, he should know how to behave!"

"That's right Uncle Mejey, (my nickname for him) I do know how to behave, around Father and my sisters,but not you because you want the throne for yourself!" I got off-topic because earlier in the argument, Uncle Mejnun had threatened to have my father remove the right to the throne from me.

"Don't be so sour and disrespectful!" Uncle Mejnun's temper was flailing fast. "With that voice, anyone would think that your mother did not give you a mixture of butter and honey when you were born to make you voice soft and respectful!" His tone calmed when speaking of my mother, as it always does.

"Man, I feel bad for you. Your mother evidently forgot to give you that special mixture when you were born, since you are always a sourpuss." It was rude, but my uncle had not been saying exactly nice things to me either. After I finished, I ran, as fast as I could away from him. As I approached the main hallway, I turned my head for a second to see if he was still following me.Well, I turned my head at the wrong time. The moment I turned my head back froward, I crashed into Negatwa, who was carrying a crate full of glass bottles. She screamed and the next thing I knew we were both sitting in a pile of broken glass, covered in nicks and cuts.

When Mejnun caught up to me, he just starred at us for a second. Then he walked over to Negatwa and held out his hand to her. He helped her up, but left me in the glass puddle, that was a pile of shape knives.A few other servants came running and one of them helped me out of the glass. And, well, old Uncle Mejnun had a trick up his sleeve. He had one of the servants take me to my room. Then he locked the door behind me. So well, I am still sitting here.My room is on the fouth floor of the castle, so there is no hope of Tau, my best friend who is the son of a medican maker to come and help me down and out of this prison.

Wait, that was the door. Sika, our doctor must be here. I'll right more later.

Fiyero