The End
I am adrift on a boat headed to parts unknown with an infant daughter and no navigational instruments. This day I woke Duke of Milan, and now I am survivor huddled on a raft with limited supplies. Prospero continued to ruminate upon the day as it came to its end...
"...would like to thank you for your gracious gift of supplies to the village after..." The peasant continued to thank Prospero, the latest in a long line of those of his kingdom seeking an audience before him. This was the fifth petitioner today, and as he finished, there was a rather sudden interruption.
Suddenly, a voice from the hallway. "I am now assuming control of Milan." Prospero raised himself out of his chair, and moved to face the presumed usurper. He quickly waved away the peasant, and when he did not move to leave, he asked one of his servants to remove him. Quickly, he rounded the corner and found himself facing his brother.
"Guards, seize this man!" Prospero suddenly found himself in shackles, being led out of his own palace by force. He struggled, and began an incantation he had learned that would freeze the guards, but they quickly knocked him unconscious. The last things he would hear coming out of his former home were the sounds of his brother shouting commands to his new servants.
He had no idea how much time had passed since he had been put into this new prison; it could not have been more then half a day, but it was definitely more then an hour. He looked up and realized he had a visitor: his old friend Gonzalo, come to visit him one last time before what he expected would be his execution, the final step for his brother to assume legal control of his lands.
"Prospero, are you awake?" Realizing how groggy he must seem to an observer, he nodded, acknowledging his presence. "I come with good news. When the populace received news of your brother's plot"-Doubtless because of the villager whom I sent away this morning-"-they are threatening revolt if you are not released."
"Good to know that they, at least, are still loyal to me. What is Sebastian's response, old friend?" he questioned.
"I am afraid that I do not come with good news about that particular subject. It would appear that he is refusing to acquiesce to their demands, and he has set the execution for dawn tomorrow. Perhaps I-" A courier entered and quickly whispered something in Gonzalo's ear. "Well, it seems we could be in for some luck-your brother has asked to speak with me. I will return as soon as I am able."
"Wait!" Prospero cried as he turned to leave. "Please, I wish to know of what happened to Miranda. Where is she?"
Gonzalo turned. "I will ask him; hopefully he'll be willing to tell me." He left, and closed the door behind him.
Prospero lost track of time after the first hour. He tried casting a few simple spells; illusions, fire, wind; none were under his control. He felt groggy; he contemplated the possibility that the water he had been given with his meal was drugged. It made sense; how else could they keep him imprisoned this long? He was almost ready to surrender, but as soon as he began to entertain those thoughts, he reminded himself of Miranda. Beautiful Miranda, his daughter, his guiding light, the one thing that kept him grounded during this incarceration; and the thing that had him most worried. Until he heard news of her fate…
The door opened, and Gonzalo finally returned. "Prospero! I come bearing news of your daughter!" At this he looked up. "She is currently being held with her nursemaids. She is safe-Sebastian does not intend to kill her. Nor you, in fact-your popularity among those of your kingdom has made you untouchable by him. It appears that instead, he plans to send you away in a raft."
"Why is this even being allowed? I am the rightful duke of Milan-he should have no power here." Unless…
"Unfortunately, Alonso is backing him. Do not ask me why: he is the king, and even I, his most trusted advisor, is sometimes left in the dark as to his motives. However, his powerful merchant friends might have something to do with this." Prospero vaguely recalled Sebastian asking him to allow slave traders to pass through his borders; at the time, he had decided against allowing them in. Gonzalo did not appear happy about the situation; however, he had more to say. "He is, however, granting you one small mercy; he has decided to send both you and your daughter out to open sea. While you face almost certain death, he is not directly killing you, which would jeopardize his position as the new Duke. You leave at sundown-and Miranda is coming with you."
The once-Duke of Milan strode down the road to the docks, guards and child in tow. Occasionally, he would see a face looking out a window, or around a corner; at times, he could even hear the gentle pitter-patter of feet moving quietly behind them. They than reached the end of the road, at the docks. Gonzalo awaited them there. He then waved away the guards and pulled Prospero aside.
"Though your brother intends for you not to survive this journey, I hope that you shall. To this end, I have placed some supplies on the boat; they will last you until you make landfall. Go, go as far away as the winds will take you-only then will you be safe." He whispered to Prospero.
"Thank you, my friend; I doubt that I shall ever have the opportunity to repay you for your kindness." Prospero said, eyes saddened, yet refusing to give in to it.
"Simply survive, you and your young daughter; that shall be payment enough." He embraced them both, and Prospero set sail. Gonzalo stood vigil, watching into the horizon, and candles across the city were lit in silent prayer for the Duke of Milan. They did not go out until morning light came across the horizon.
The Beginning
