Note: As of 8/2 – 2013 this chapter was replaced with a new, modified, and MUCH better version. Well, at least according to me.

And I feel like I have to transfer these thanks from the old version:

Thanks Vendelareader and bokpricken for being my first reviewers and adding me to your favs – you made SeaDevil very, very, VERY happy! Hugs for you!

This chapter is quite slow in the beginning, but please bear with me, OK? There'll be action in the end ^^

WARNING: Yeah, I figured that I should put one of these here. There is a minor spoiler in this chapter for volume... ummm... 7? Yeah, I think that it's 7. Anyway, other than that, THERE WILL BE VIOLENCE in this chapter. Just so you know.

Disclaimer: As much as I'd like to, I don't own ½ Prince... IT'S NOT FAIR!

Chapter 2:

Thoughts on a Mission

I was letting my thoughts wander. Not a wise thing to do, of course, while expecting an attack, but I figured that since the intruders would probably not come until their target had "fallen asleep" and the princess' normal evening routines really didn't require all that much mental capacity, I could afford it.

...well, maybe not, but the subject of my thoughts was interesting enough that I accepted the risk that came with day-dreaming while on a mission. Normally, I would not do that, no matter how small the risk that came with it was, but then again, I normally didn't have all that much to think about.

But I certainly did now. The game that the idiot knight had given me... it was amazing. He had been right in what he had written on the card: it was the perfect present. It was all that I could ever have wished for, and even despite my reluctance regarding gifts, if I had known it existed earlier, I would have asked him to get it for me.

That I hadn't known about it was actually quite strange, given the information I now had thanks to him filling that second envelope with notes and newspaper articles to brief me on the things surrounding the game that didn't stand in the manual.

Second Life is a virtual reality system with an extreme popularity. Even after a sharp decline in the number of players due to a serious misuse of the system by one of the designers, nearly five out of ten play the game.

That I had not been briefed about this, even briefly, to prevent an embarrassing situation in which the "princess" didn't know about something so common was strange. Even stranger, though, was the fact that the game had never been mentioned in front of me when I played the princess, despite the fact that it was a popular conversation topic (at least according to the information I got from the idiot knight). Taking that into consideration, Second Life should at least have been mentioned in passing a time or two, but I had no recollection of something like that ever happening.

Mulling that over for a while, I decided to leave the issue until I had more information and started to go over what facts I had managed to gather about my present so far. I had not made my way through the entire pile of texts yet, of course – there had been too little time – but I had nevertheless built myself a basic understanding of the game.

When it first came, the consoles had been pretty clumsy helmet-like devices, but to regain some of the players they lost during the turmoil surrounding the misuse of the game, the Second Life company had started a major campaign to regain popularity and trust. The three most obvious parts of this campaign had been a great number of new patches to make gameplay even more interesting, the company just about pouring money into advertising and the re-designing of the old helmets.

The design-change had left the previously cumbersome objects with completely different appearance than they had had before. The new model was light and unobtrusive, looking more like a simple band of metal than a helmet. As a part of that development, there had, of course, been prototypes. These prototypes had aimed even higher than the current design, and really looked more like head-accessories than gaming consoles. However, they had cost too much to manufacture to go with sufficient profit, even with the mass-produce that would be necessary, both to meet demands and to cut down on the material costs. Thus, they had been simplified until they had reached the final design of metal bands which combined looks, functionality and cost.

But the fourteen prototypes that had been constructed were still fully functional. Not wanting them to go to waste, and seeing a chance of tempting more people into buying the new console, the Second Life company declared that they would distribute these prototypes, which they had dubbed "crowns", by giving them as a prize to fourteen randomly chosen buyers of the new "helmet" model. A slightly nicer looking console may not seem like much of a lottery prize, but that was only if you disregarded the privileges that came with them. Second Life had namely promised three wishes to those that managed to acquire one of them, whether they already had an account or not; something that had induced a buying-frenzy amongst their customers, just as calculated.

Because something like that, no matter how childish it may seem at first, is nothing to disregard; the user need only say what he or she wanted, and the company would grant it to them. If the user desired start at level 200, for a legendary weapon, or for the strongest type of pet existing in the game, they would get it. You could even wish for things the game did not usually allow: gender changes, mixed races, a completely new specie, special abilities that didn't exist or even an infinite amount of money. Looking at it this way, those wishes were insanely powerful, and nothing to laugh at at all.

Indeed, at first there had even been massive protests against the company giving that kind of power away to a select few – it would be just the same as cheating, and would disturb the balance of the game, players all over the globe complained. Of course, that did not stop them from rushing to the stores, trying to acquire one of the crowns for themselves. There were even those who bought several "helmets", just to increase the chance of themselves getting a "winning ticket".

This was also the reason that the crowns' appearance were kept secret from the public. If people knew how they looked, things could get ugly. They would be stolen, copied, false versions would start circulating, and in the end, the Second Life company would get blamed for everything.

At first, before I remembered the exact nature of my present, I had wondered about why the idiot knight had bothered to include such thorough information on the crowns in the envelope; in fact, the only thing he didn't mention was something that I didn't get to know until later, when I had opened the game box and discovered a special pamphlet, detailing limits set on the wishes you got from the crowns.

I had, by the way, been quite puzzled when I opened the box and saw the Beast Crown for the first time – because it didn't look like a crown at all. Or even a gaming console. More like a leather band meant to be tied around the head, decorated with feathers, bone-and-silver beads and some kind of animal teeth dangling off the ends. How they had managed to hide all that cutting-edge technology inside of that, I have no idea. But I digress. We were talking about the limits on the wishes, right?

Apparently, each of the crowns had an "element" fitting their design. I am a bit dubious about saying elements in this instance because the crown-elements went far beyond the usual water, earth, fire and air. Or water, wood, metal, earth and fire, whichever model you prefer. The crown-elements consist of the following, one for each crown. They were: Water, Earth, Fire, Air, Metal, Lightning, Beast, Light, Darkness, Plant, Ice, Psychic, Sound and lastly; Empathy.

The wishes are linked to these elements. You have to make at least one wish that strongly relates to your crown's element, otherwise all the wishes would become null and void. That the idiot knight had not included this in his notes led me to believe that it was not common knowledge, as he had been very thorough otherwise. As usual.

But this was, as I said earlier, something I did not discover until I actually opened the package. Before that, I read the name Beast Crown on the box and wanted nothing more than to re-wrap the thing and return it to the idiot, no matter how upset that would have made him. Why, do you ask? Simple. The amount of luck needed to acquire one of the crowns was so enormous that he had most likely had had to spend unimaginable amounts of money to get his hands on the console. And as I mentioned before, I don't like him giving me gifts because I will never be able to give anything in return. And then something of this magnitude shows up. Isn't it understandable that my first reflex would be to reject it? However, there was (and is – I still haven't quite gotten over the enormity of this gift) one thing holding me back; the one piece of fact that is unavoidable when one reads about Second Life, something I mentioned in passing earlier; it is a virtual reality game.

The term is not just for show, and neither is the title. In that world, which mimicks the real one to 99%, I would be able to start over and become my own person, free from all the binds placed upon me in this world. I could get a new life inside the game.

At that point, I forcefully stopped my train of thought. It would do me no good to get my hopes up in vain. The game might not meet all the praise showered down upon it. And even if it did... No, I'll have to think about this later – right now I have to focus, I reprimanded myself. I had finished the princess' evening rituals, and was about to climb into her bed. No distractions could be afforded from here on out. I emptied my mind and focused only on the here and now. My senses would give me all the information I needed to carry out this mission, but only if I paid proper attention.

Settling down beneath the soft and warm sky-blue blanket, I closed my eyes. The comfort level of this bed was miles above mine, but I couldn't let that distract me or lull me into sleep. A mistake at this point could very well mean death. I had no illusions there.

Taking a deep breath and holding it for a second before slowly letting it out through my mouth, I started focusing on my senses, trying to find a trace of the intruder. It was unlikely that whoever it was would show up quite yet, but better safe than sorry.

The soft moonlight of the waxing, almost full, moon filtered through my eyelids from the large, floor-to-ceiling windows covering an entire wall of the room, and the sounds of the night-time Grane household whispered in my ears. I concentrated on those for a while, trying to detect any anomalies. Failing to do so, I moved on to my sense of smell. I let my mouth fall open slightly, to let the sense of taste support my nose. It was something I had discovered a long time ago, that the sense of taste, generally thought of as useless unless one was eating, could be used to strengthen the sense of smell. Not discovering anything unusual there either, I started over again, ignoring the sense of touch as I would not feel much of the air currents going around the room while buried under a blanket.

It didn't take long before I grew thankful of the fact that the princess always slept on her back on an insanely fluffy pillow that almost felt like it was trying to suffocate me as it folded around my head. It was a sleeping position I found extremely uncomfortable; something very good in this situation, as it was preventing me from falling asleep.

Even so, I had become drowsy before I finally heard soft footsteps, followed by two soft clicks of the door opening and closing (the hinges were well oiled – they would not creak) before the footsteps resumed. The person was at least moderately skilled, capable of muffling their movements and breathing. The sounds stopped just to the right of the closet, in the corner to the left of the door. It took a while for me to understand the reason for this, as it usually would be seen as better to stop by the door or the windows, until I remembered the hidden passage providing an alternate way out of this room that was hidden there. Someone has done their research, I thought and allowed myself a brief feeling of grudging admiration for whatever person it had been. I didn't know much about this family's security system, but what I did know told me that finding out about that passage was a great feat, indeed.

Hearing a rustle of clothes and a very quiet creaking sound, I quickly dismissed my thoughts and rolled out of bed just as a muffled bam filled the room. I landed on my hands and the balls of my feet on the other side of the bed, using it as cover. I dully noted a piercing pain in my right forearm while I shrugged off the restricting blanket. Taking a quick glance at it, I saw that the bullet had entered my flesh before shattering and tearing it open from the inside – the projectile must have been an expanding bullet – leaving an ugly wound. I knew that it would need to be taken care of as soon as possible, seeing as the metal shrapnel could do immense damage to my tissue if left alone, but for now there was nothing I could do about it, so I pressed the pain to the back of my mind and ignored the wound.

What was important now was that the intruder was eliminated.

I reached under the bed to the holster hidden there and drew the pistol within, undoing the security latch as I pulled it closer. I do not like gunfights, they are way too messy for my taste, but that doesn't mean that I don't know how to handle shooting weapons. I briefly wondered about why my opponent hadn't chosen a knife for this – they were silent, couldn't be traced like guns could once you recovered the bullet (or the pieces which were left of it, anyway) they easier hit vital spots and they could be poisoned, just in case the initial hit wasn't effective. And if this person had planned to kill the princess in her sleep anyway, the range the gun gave didn't matter – it would have been easy to just sneak up to her and slit her throat. Well, if it had been the real her, anyway. The fact that the would-be assassin used expanding bullets somewhat compensated for the choice of weapon, but...

Shaking myself out of my thoughts, I breathed in to steady myself before letting the air go, calming my frantic mind. This person had the advantage of knowing exactly where I was and being in a prepared shooting position, ready to shoot at a moment's notice, while I only had a rough idea of where my opponent was, had to take a position from where I was crouched behind the bed and then shoot after I had confirmed my enemy's exact location. That brief interval between where I emerged from my cover and shot could be lethal. In this situation, I could only rely on my reflexes and that small advantage that this person had given me by not positioning themselves behind some kind of cover. Even so, I shouldn't even try to fire a lethal, or even maiming shot at first. The most important thing with that shot is that I hit, so that I can take advantage of the flinching to aim better. All of this relies on speed. I don't have the time to let myself aim the first shot properly.

That in mind, I tensed my muscles and senses, searching for the person's breathing and smell before swiftly launching myself up, and, steadying my arms on the bed, shot.

But mine wasn't the only gun that sounded. Two muffled bangs filled the room, one seemingly echoing the other. The other person's bullet missed me and hit a pillow instead, sending a flurry of white feathers across my vision. I did not know what had happened to my bullet, and I didn't have time to stop and wonder about it; I simply aimed as well as I could through the feathers and pulled the trigger again.

As the recoil hit my arms again, sending yet another shock of pain up my right arm, my opponent staggered, a leg buckling under the weight. Ignoring the pain, I shot again, and he – I saw the gender now as the feathers cleared away – staggered backwards, back hitting the wall. I didn't relent, however. My eyes had completely adjusted themselves to the light in the room now, and with a clear view of the man, getting a critical shot was no longer a problem, despite being wounded.

I hesitated for a second as faces of people long dead haunted me, and the man before me had time to brace himself against the wall and start to lift his gun toward me before the sound of my mother's voice echoed through my mind.

Kill.

Pulling the trigger one last time, my bullet pierced his forehead.

Hug and cookie for reviewers! They are only virtual, of course, but they are still nice, right? Constructive criticism is still very much appreciated ^^