There was an old tale that was passed down for many generations about an old kingdom called Italia. There once lived a prince selfish and cruel; and when he ascended to the throne as king he plunged his country into an economic depression. Those who stood in his way were executed on the guillotine, and he eventually became known as the Prince of Evil.

As the story goes on, it was said he once ordered a massacre on the neighboring country of Ursalia – and event later known as the Ursalian Killing. This event marked the start of the Italian Revolution. Lead by a swordsman in red clothing and a man whose face hid behind a blue mask, the citizens marched forward and took their king prisoner.

The Prince of Evil was to be executed by the guillotine at 3 'o clock, and as the time drew near he held one visitor though no one knew who; that was a secret to be kept to the very end, it seems. Eventually he was brought to the stand and beheaded by the third gong of the distant church bell. Since his death, the kingdom was then given to the country unaffected by the turmoil – the kingdom of Ispania.

For many decades people were told of the Prince of Evil and his terrible reign, and for many decades people believed he died there that day on that stand. But now after three whole centuries the true story of the prince's ordeal unfolds…

In the hands of two village boys

A new story begins…

…

It started in a small village just off the border coast; there wasn't much to know about the village. It's a very small village after all. However, there lived a peculiar boy in this village. He wasn't much like other village boys; this boy's name is Emil Steilsson, and unlike others his interest lies in old stories and legends than adventures and games.

Day by day people could see him on the steps to his home reading another tale about some man who tried to find the impossible, or a story of a kingdom long forgotten. Many think of the thought a bit drab, but none tried to change the boy's antics. He lived his own life after all, even if it meant him staying in his home filled to the rim with books upon books upon books.

Now Emil has no family to turn to; his parents died when he was a young child, killed by an unknown assailant. His caretaker died by an illness five years before, and now at age sixteen Emil depended on no one, nor did he provide service of his own. The only other one he'd talk to was none other than the old man at the bookshop; even then he only asks him, "Is there anything new?" and the man would shake his head.

One day however, when Emil asked this question, the man rose from his seat and slowly pointed to an old, leather book. "Someone sold to me a story I'd never expected to find," he said, "Surely you've heard of it – the Story of Evil I mean,"

"No, this was the first time you mentioned it to me," Emil answered.

"Such a surprise – the story is an old one, and very true at that," he said as he picked the book off its stand, "The Story of Evil is a popular tale way back then; it was written by one of the palace guards at the time, I think. He wrote the whole ordeal as everyone saw, however the story went through many edits and reproduction so the tale slowly distorted overtime. But this here, boy, is the original tale from beginning to end; I don't know where that salesman found it, but the context and the distinct writing proves that this must be it,"

"It could still just be a fraud," the young teen answered boldly, "It could just be bits of paper and dialogue from the museum in the next town,"

"But it isn't. That there from beginning to end is the original Story of Evil," the elderly male croaked, handing the book to him, "You should know a bit more on Italian dialogue. Let this be a test on your abilities,"

So Emil took it home; the book was indeed old and worn out, but the boy still thought of it as no more than a fraud. When I get home, I'll prove it's a fake. He told himself. What will be written in here would just be random words that can never pass for a good story.

But when he reached home, took his seat at his cluttered desk, and opened the book he was surprised. The entire page was barely legible – the writing itself was made of curves and spaces. Italian dialogue... He realized. So the man wasn't lying. With his suspicions laid to rest, he read the first sentence as best as he could. "In our world there were three kingdoms, for no one had known of uncharted lands. It was in one of these three that there born a selfish prince,"

…

The young teen was intrigued; not once had he come across such a twisted story before. Yes he had read tales of jealousy and revolt, but never had he expected a story to possess such hatred and fear in each word given. Such a tragic story it was, and indeed his favorite as of now; he needs to remember to thank that old geezer.

With a sigh he closed the book. Today had been somewhat of a strain, and one too many people had stopped by his home that time; in reality, one person visited him. The man's name was Kaoru, and as Emil remembered, he was a bit of a dirty thief. He would often sell things that he took from homes and villas in abandoned towns. The man came to their village once every three months, and each time there were new things to find.

When Kaoru came by his home though, Emil wasn't all too pleased; to him the petty thief was rather annoying, even though the man treated him well. "What do want this time, Kaoru?" he said in an annoyed manner, closing the old book.

"I'm just checking on you. There's no wrong in that, is there?" Kaoru asked.

"I just found a new story today and you just came around and disrupted me," the pale boy answered, "What made you want to check on me?"

"I came because of your antisocial status. Every time I stop by this village you're the only one cooped up inside," the older male pointed out, "I see you have one of recent sales. How is it?"

"It's okay, I guess," Emil said with a shrug, "I haven't finished the story yet, and I probably won't be finished until later this evening,"

"Ah, I see then," the salesman rummaged through his load, "Well it's good to see that you haven't changed interests in tales and fables. But if you want to discover more, you need to get outside more,"

"I'm perfectly fine where I am now," he responded, irritated, "What are you doing now? You know I'm not interested in your junk,"

"They're not junk. If they were, then what you'll be holding is also a piece of junk," Kaoru countered, causing the younger teen to blush from embarrassment, "Besides, I'm not going to charge you anything. Consider it a gift from me to you," With that he pulled out a plush animal in the shape of a bird. It was entirely black aside the face and beak; the face was a dirty white color whilst the beak was a mixture of dull reds, yellows and oranges.

He removed a red ribbon from his wrist and tied it around the neck of the bird before holding it out to Emil, who looked at it curiously. "What is it?" he asked, puzzled by its strange appearance.

"I found on one of my travels. There were more of these things in the north – all of which are living and breathing," he said.

"So you brought me a corpse?" Emil asked, suddenly unsure if he should take hold of the bird.

"No, it's a stuffed animal, made the same way as your pillows at home. It's just in the shape of a bird," Kaoru corrected, "Anyway, consider it as a gift, Emil. These aren't easy to get,"

"You still haven't told me what it was," the young teen said.

"Oh right, I forgot to say," He exclaimed, "These are called 'puffins' and they're quite a common sight in the north. I was thinking about snagging a live one, but that didn't turn out too well. But anyways, I got this for you as a way of saying 'explore the world a bit,'"

"Somehow, I think I already knew that," Emil muttered, taking the puffin figure into his arms, "Now if you don't mind may I return to finishing this story?"

"Not at all," Kaoru responded, hauling his things on his back, "I'll be seeing you then, Emil,"

As he walked away, the young teen couldn't help but feel somewhat lonely. It's been true that he had been alone for many years, but every time the man takes his leave he is always reminded of the cruel reality that though the two are good friends that do quarrel from time to time Kaoru will always leave. Even now, as he closed the book he couldn't help but feel a wave of loneliness sweep over him.

Emil gazed at the puffin doll he had placed on a stack of books. It was a rather intriguing creature to him, and in wonder he picked it up once more. The ribbon that was tied around his neck was starting to come loose; the petty thief had a very sloppy knot, much to Emil's displeasure. If you plan to give someone a gift, at least tie the ribbon properly. He thought bitterly as he removed the red ribbon and properly tied it around the bird's neck.

He placed the bird back down on the bock stack and returned to the worn out book, but looking at the book he noticed something sticking out from its pages. Emil took hold of the tip, and pulled it out of the pages to reveal a slip of folded paper. A note?

Curiously the boy unfolded the slip of paper and read the words written in its blank white sleet. Emil couldn't believe what he had read.

If you are reading this, then it must be that you've found one of the original versions of our story. This is here to tell you that what you have read is somewhat true. It is true that there was once a prince, and that he was selfish and cruel. It is true that he did a terrible thing to the neighboring country of Ursalia – the Ursalian Killing. Soon after, a revolution indeed followed.

"But it's not true that the prince was taken and killed the day after. It was never written within the pages of this old story, but what you must know is that the prince never died in this ordeal. He escaped the people and lived his life away from the kingdom he once ruled. Now how he escaped is the secret no one knows but few; in your time, nobody may know. But I wrote this to expose the truth."

"If you wish to find out what really happened to the prince, look to the city of Vaksala. In the cellar of the carpenter shop, there lays a small chamber containing the written words of the prince himself; it may not be the best written story, but honestly what would expect from someone like him? But anyways, it is recorded there what really happened to the Prince of Italia."

"This is only a fragment of a larger puzzle."

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Now this story is somewhat of a split – it continues from the Prince of Italia, and also starts a new story of a shut in. Two stories in one, so jackpot for me! Anyways, updates for this should flow smoothly now; come and check every week for an update or two.

So now to answer another question; when will I be writing from Lovi's perspective. Judging by what I did…two to four chapters. Sorry, but everyone wanted a sequel, and to put the best experience I went this way. The main purpose of me putting up Prince of Italia was to try to get in character with our favorite Hetalians. This purpose doesn't stop at that story, so it should explain a bit as to why Iceland(Emil) and Kaoru(Hong Kong) are here.

Now this doesn't really include you needing to read Prince of Italia, but it's recommended considering how later on it will be a bit confusing. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this! Now please R&R.