The path to Evil
It was a bad day for her royal highness Queen Weira. No, that was an understatement. It was the worst day of her life. She had given birth to a baby boy. Sure, there had been omens that the baby would be male, but she'd never quite believed them. How could she give birth to a boy. She was the rightful Queen of Meridian. And no queen of Meridian had ever birthed a male before. She considered smothering him whist no one was looking and pretending he'd been still-born. However, she looked into his glimmering blue eyes and she somehow couldn't. As much as she hated the boy she could never kill him. He gurgled at her and the blonde fuzz on his head wiggled with the slight movement.
"Adreyya" she addressed a minor servant in the room, "take … Phobos … to the royal nursery." Queen Weira made a note to win the trust of all her servants by learning their names. She felt it made them less likely to betray her, and some of the women of the castle, when reminded regularly of their lesser status, made good conversation with her.
Zaden watched his son pass from the cot in the birthing room to Adreyya's arms. He did not ask to hold his child as much as he wanted to. The baby was beautiful and he loved it already, but he loved his wife more, and did not wish to offend her – or provoke her wrath. Then it hit him, she had named their son Phobos. The name meant fear in Meridian.
"Weira, why did you choose such a name?" he questioned his exhausted wife.
"Because this is a day of great unknown for our kingdom, and a day of fear for me. What if I cannot produce a female heir? Will that make me unworthy of my throne?" She fretted.
"Nothing could make you unworthy of Meridian, you are it's rightful queen. And what's more, is that you are a wonderful Queen." Zaden comforted her, moving closer to the bed she lay upon and kissing her forehead.
~~~ 8 years later ~~~
Soaring above Meridian's capital city the Escannor rulers' castle stood proud. Meridian's bright sun caused the golden brick-work to gleam as a new morning dawned on the city. Grass swayed in the breeze and in the palace gardens a great variety of flora bloomed to impress the Queen's visitors. She spent little time there, viewing it as a place in which to display her love of the ecology of the planet to her visitors. Of course in reality she cared little for such trifling matters. Her place was in the throne room, ruling the people. And this she did mostly with justice, and certainly with confidence and force. Emotional weakness was for men.
Meanwhile, Phobos touched a small blue flower that one of his class mates had trampled on, his touch brought the flower back to life. In shock and fear he quickly plucked the flower, before anyone could see this trace of magic in him. He pocketed the flower. It had reminded him of himself, constantly picked on until it was crushed. But then it had bloomed back to life when he picked it, hadn't it? He grinned to himself, perhaps there was hope for him afterall.
"What are you smiling at?" said a small green child, Rebekah, the child of one of Phobos' mother's advisor. She had prodded him hard on the shoulder as she asked the question.
"Nothing" he replied glaring into the dirt at his feet.
"You're so smart aren't you? Getting everything right in class. Well you're not, no one likes you, I hate you. I heard your own mother hates you."
Phobos continued to glare at his feet. He felt angry, but he balled that up deep inside, and his overriding feeling was one of dejection.
By this point a crowd of small children had gathered, jeering at the young prince. Cries of "hit him!" rose from the group.
"You know we can't. We'll get in trouble. He's a prince." Rebekah spat the last word.
"Maybe we're not allowed to hit him because he doesn't know how to fight back." Another child teased.
"What kind of boy can't fight. I can fight. I'm the strongest boy my age." Boasted a humanoid brown child, Garet. He was the son of a castle guard.
"Children" Learna, Phobos' class teacher called, "Time for your next lesson. Come inside."
He sighed with relief. Every other boy in the castle was given mandatory fighting lessons (in hand-to-hand combat as well as with various staffs and, when they were a little older, sword and spear lessons). Phobos had not been taught to fight, so he knew he would have been beaten to a pulp. He used to think hopefully that he hadn't begun fighting lessons last year because he would be trained to be a king, and no monarch of the Escanor family ever had to fight with swords, staffs or fists. However, enough cruel remarks from his mother and the castle staff had put him in his place, and he knew his dreams of ascending to the throne were just that – dreams. And yet, he still snuck into the library every so often to read up on the issues of ruling, to study maps and history. He told himself it was so he could help the sister his parents said he would one day have to rule Meridian well. But deep down he knew he wanted to rule. And all he was taught in school was basic numeracy and writing and reading. He could already do all of that very well, thank you very much, and the female children who excelled by his age were allowed to move on to history and geography lessons. He wanted to learn about that now! Besides, if he ever ruled he was resolved that he would be a good king. He giggled at the word. 'King'. It sounded funny, Meridian had never had a king, just royal consorts, but he'd read about other planets having these 'kings'. Of course, he couldn't always understand what these books said, he was only 8, but he got the gist of them enough to believe in the possibility of male rulers being out there.
"Phobos!" Learna chided. "I am trying to teach and you are interrupting us with your deluded laughter. You will clean the school toilets again this afternoon!"
He groaned inwardly. There were servants for this. No royal consort had ever had to stoop so low so he didn't see why he should have to. Then he stooped off to the toilets.
"Phobos" Learna called to the child's retreating back.
"Yes Ma'am" he replied politely, turning around.
"That is not how royalty walks, hold yourself properly. One day you will be married to a woman of noble birth and she will expect better of you."
The thought of marriage sent a shudder down the young Prince's spine. He did not wish to be controlled, or sycophantic like his father. But, he supposed, it was inevitable. With a sigh he set to work on the scrubbing the toilet, regretting the necessity of a deep inward breath after a sigh and pinching his nose at the smell.