Hey, Guys! Are ya ready for some more FairyTail? Just make sure when you're reading, you turn off all the lights and hold your device really close to your face! Just make sure you have enough space for fangirling.
(Comment if you heard Natsu's voice saying that 3)
I still don't own FairyTail or Princess Bride.
Chapter II: The Prince
Hey, it's me again. This is my first major cut from Mashima's original text. Chapter I, parts one through three, which are, as a whole, titled "The Bride," are focused almost completely on Lucy. Chapter II, titled "The Prince," didn't even mention Sting until the last three or four pages in the original tale. This is where my brother stopped reading, and I can't blame him.
Because what Mashima has done here is unforgivable. He interrupts his narrative with 400- count 'em, 400 – pages of Saberian history. Specifically that of the Saberian crown. AS IN THE ACTUAL PHYSICAL DIADEM, NOT THE ROYAL FAMILY. Everything from where and when the gold was mined, to how long it took to forge it, down to what was done with the leavings. (For those of you who are interested, they were used to fashion the Royal Wedding Bands.)
Dreary doesn't even begin to describe it. Mind numbing is only slightly closer.
Of course, any professor at Fiore University (home to the finest Mashima experts in the world,) would undoubtedly tell you that Mashima is a satirical writer who point here was to illustrate the long standing monarchy and its convoluted nature, or some such gobblity gook. Any one of them would probably hang me high for cutting this section, but it doesn't matter. This is my abridgement, and I'm doing it my way.
When I first struggled through this portion of the uncut version, I could not help but scratch my head. Why would Mashima, being the master of narrative that he is, shoot his narrative dead before it could even really get started? After much research, I have uncovered an answer:
FILLER STORY ARCS FOR THE ANIME!
This being the case, I have removed this cancer from the text, and pick up where chapter II actually, and finally, begins.
Prince Sting was a young man of about 18 years of age. He was lean and muscular, with wild golden locks, pierced ears and an arrogant glint in his eyes. He, unlike his elder sister Minerva, cared nothing for the finery that his status afforded him. Thus, rather than dressing himself in the typical array of a prince, he wore a simple black sleeveless shirt that was either cut off at the man's upper abdomen, or was just too small for him. (We can't be sure. Professors at the Fiore University have been arguing this topic for years.) He also wore a pair of dark blue three quarter gloves (Which served no known purpose…). About his middle, Sting wore a pair of suspended, high-waist black and white pants with matching high top boots.
Above all these, and, ironically, most elegant, was the young man's blue and gold vest, trimmed with a Vulcan pelt, from a creature he had slain himself. The fur was falling out in places, for he had had the Royal seamstress stitch it for him to begin with, but had since kept it up himself, and he was no tailor. But he didn't want to be a tailor. He wasn't in much of a hurry to be king, either. Even warfare, at which he was masterful, took second place in his affections.
In fact, everything took second place in his affections.
Hunting was his love.
He made it his habit to never go a day without killing something. He didn't much care what. When he first adopted this practice, he killed only big things: lions, pythons, bears, and the like. However, as his skills increased, the prince began to take more and more pleasure in the sufferings of small creatures as well. He could spend a whole afternoon tracking a flying squirrel through the trees, tracing the steps of a door mouse, or preying upon an elusive trout in rivers. Sting was a relentless huntsman. Once he had focused his energy upon a certain victim, he never tired, never wavered, until he had vanquished his prey. It was death chess, and he was international grand master.
In the beginning, he travel the world, searching for worthy foes. However, as his father's condition worsened, the Prince's habit of constantly being abroad was a concern to the people of Saber. After all, there had to always be a male heir in Saber, and as long as the King lived, there was no problem. But His Majesty would not last forever.
This being the case, Sting commissioned the construction of the Zoo of Death. He designed it himself, with Rogue's assistance. The Prince ordered his servants to travel the world capturing beasts of all types to keep the Zoo dwell stocked for his personal use. Only three people in all the kingdom knew the way into the Zoo: the Prince, (obviously,) Captain Rogue, and the Blunette, (Who inexplicably referred to herself in the third person, though no one ever heard her say her own name.) who was responsible for feeding and caring for all the creatures within.
The Zoo was a series of tunnels dug in one corner of the Palace lawn. It was comprised of five separate levels for different types of prey. The first was for enemies of speed: cheetahs, wild dogs, hummingbirds, squirrels. The second level was devoted to enemies of strength: lions, Vulcans, bears, griffins and such. The third was for poison users: spiders, a myriad of snakes, (Including a one-eyed Cobra) and several species of poison frog. The fourth level was reserved for enemies of fear: blood eagles, (the only species of bird that thrives on human flesh) bats, and as an added challenge, swarms of tracker-jackers, to be avoided at all costs. (Tracker-jackers were a cross species of wasp whose sting was highly hallucinogenic in nature, and incredibly deadly. The Prince ordered them from a country known as Panem, across the Atlantic… but… you guessed it… this was before the Atlantic.) Plus, in their own black pool, the sucking squids. Even the Blunette shuddered when it was feeding time on the fourth level.
The fifth level was empty.
The Prince had constructed it in hopes of someday acquiring the perfect prey, a true challenge to his skill.
Unlikely, but still. Sting was an eternal optimist, and so he had the Blunette always keep Level Five in readiness.
Anyway, there were plenty of other fearsome creatures on the other four levels to keep anyone well occupied. Sting sometimes choose his prey by luck, he had a great spinner with pictures of every beast in the Zoo. He would give the spinner a mighty twirl at breakfast, and the Blunette would ready that breed. Other times, he might choose by feel, saying things like: "I feel strong today, release a rhino." Or perhaps, "I feel quick today, fetch a cheetah." And whatever he requested, of course, was done.
He was contending with a Vulcan when the issue of his father's health made its ultimate intrusion.
He had been grappling with the great beast since sunrise, and at last the hairy thing was weakening. It bit at him repeatedly, a sure sign of weakened arms. Sting dodged his attacks easily. The Vulcan's chest heaved, gasping for air. Sting grinned. He braced himself against the wall of the Pit, (All hand to paw confrontations took place here.) and launched himself at the beast. He alighted on the thing's shoulders, wrapped both arms about its neck, and began to apply pressure to the esophagus.
Rogue's voice echoed from the stairs, "There is news."
"Can it not wait?" annoyance crept into Sting's voice.
"For how long?"
The Prince jerked the Vulcan's neck to one side. The beast crumpled like a rag doll. He climbed out, and the Captain handed him a cloth with which to wipe the sweat from his brow. "Now, what is this all about?"
"Our Father's just had his annual physical…"
"And…?" asked Sting impatiently.
"He's dying, Sting."
"DRAT! That means I'll have to get married."
YES, ON TIME OR AHEAD OF SCHEDULE FOR 2 CONSECUTIVE CHAPTERS.
Alas, this was a rather short chapter, but worry not, the next installment makes up for it.
Lala salaam,
-Mwali
Well fanfic, you got your chapter early.
Sorry it's so short but my sister doesn't get deadlines, so she procrastinated a lot.
And with some new technical difficulties, we are in for a rough few weeks.
Baadaye-Duma
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