Warning for a suicidal character.
Prince Benjamin stared a mile off past the tombstone that had his eldest brother's name on its face. Prince Clement, his brother closest in age at being just one year older, clamped a heavy hand on his shoulder. The slight trembling transmitted through the epaulet of his formal, black mourning clothes silently told Benjamin that Clement was close to breaking down in tears despite how stoic the older was trying to be, much like the other princes.
Benjamin tried hard to ignore his surroundings, Clement's trembling sapping his last traces of saving face. Benjamin was half-tempted to push Clement's hand off of him, but he knew that Clement was probably hurting inside just as much as he was. And, considering Benjamin was only eight and Clement nine, there was no way either of them were capable enough to pull off the emotionless façade.
The public announcement a few days ago of Crown Prince Søren's death sent a shockwave of sadness throughout the kingdom. However, no one was surprised. It was well-known throughout the Southern Isles and the allied kingdoms that Prince Søren was gravely sick with an illness he fought for weeks. An illness he finally succumbed to.
An "illness."
The royal family were the only ones that knew any better.
Prince Benjamin remembered hovering around the king's study, wanting to request joining the second-eldest Prince Rudolf on his tour around the globe as an ambassador. (Benjamin was still too young at the age of eight to request his own voyages, needing to ride the older brothers' coat-tails until he turned sixteen or so.) He remembered having to wait outside since Søren was with Father, discussing his own political ventures with allies, from what bits and pieces Benjamin was able to make out.
The conversation had grown heated. Something unheard of between mild-mannered father and mild-mannered eldest son.
And then he heard the king scream out in agony.
Søren swung the door open, the wood rebounding against the opposite wall with a slam and rattling the hinges. He looked at Benjamin with a paper-white face as he barked out, "Get Mother, Ben! Quick!"
After the queen mended the king for burn wounds across his chest, the secret truth about the Crown Prince was made known to the rest of the family, one kept hidden from everyone for years.
Prince Søren was a magician, and he was losing it.
A slow death he didn't deserve.
It was Søren's idea to seclude himself, suggesting to Father that the public were to believe he came down with a grave and unknown illness to explain his sudden withdrawal from the public sphere. To save the benevolent reputation the royal family had carefully built over the years and preserve it from scrutiny if Søren's magic were made known.
And no one who wasn't immediate family was allowed to know.
The curse of magic was swift to ravage all of Søren's personality, his last days turning him into a violent and feral monster. The last memory Benjamin had of Søren still being alive was making eye contact with him when he brought him food. It was like that one time Benjamin wandered and got lost in the woods alone like an idiot, staring down a wolf ready to attack him. Søren and Hans were the ones that found him, the former saving him with a well-aimed arrow between the beast's eyes.
His heart ached at the memories, and he brought himself back to the present at the thought of Hans and a sudden realization.
Hans was missing.
Benjamin scanned his eyes around the gathered mourners, the sea of blacks and grays blending everyone into a cloud. The archbishop standing before them continued on with the funeral ceremony, his voice like a low rumble of thunder. Benjamin shrugged off Clement's hand and tapped the side of the older's arm to get his attention.
He mouthed, "Where's Hans?"
Clement seemed to stuff back his sadness and looked around the crowd with urgency. Clement pulled out a small pocketbook from an inner pocket of his coat with a bit of charcoal. He jotted down "Ben and I will look for Hans" before tearing out the page and handing it to Prince Rudolf beside them.
The second-born looked at the scrap from the eleventh-born and then to the both of them. He nodded and turned his attention back to the bishop, slowly handing the sheet down to the next prince beside him to be passed down one by one to the king and queen, the whole family being notified of the missing thirteenth prince.
Benjamin and Clement, as respectfully as they could, separated themselves from the mourners and left the gravesite.
"Did you see where he went?" Clement asked once they were safe from disturbing the funeral.
"Wasn't he right next to you?" Benjamin said.
"Yeah, but I… kinda spaced out. I didn't want to think about…" Clement looked over his shoulder, back to the ceremony they waded themselves out of. He shook his head as if snapping himself back to the present. "Hans isn't one to sneak off alone. I'm worried."
Hans always found himself around the king and queen, or one of the eldest brothers, namely Prince Søren. With Søren gone...
Benjamin nodded, understanding, and reached out for his brother and took his elbow, pulling his arm gently. "Let's find our baby brother."
"Did you even see him leave?"
"No, I was also spaced out."
The younger of the two decided to ask the guards that surrounded the premises of the graveyard if they saw the youngest prince. None of them had noticed anyone leave from the ceremony save for Benjamin and Clement.
"If anything, Your Highnesses," one of the guards said. "He still might be somewhere in the graveyard." One of the guards decided to help the young princes with their search, Benjamin and Clement searching one half, the guard searching the other.
Clement was the one who spotted the missing prince first, huddled behind the tombstone of their great-great-great-great-great grandmother or something like that. Benjamin found history about his family to be boring and never really payed attention. Something like that was more of Clement's thing.
"H-Hans, what are you doing?" Benjamin heard Clement ask as he approached after being waved over. From his point of view, he could only see Clement standing behind the tombstone, hands covering his mouth and his face pale.
Benjamin turned the corner and finally caught sight of Hans. There was a fancy-looking knife in his little brother's hands, stabbing the heart out of a pigeon he somehow caught. The five-year-old Hans' shoulders quivered, twitching with each sob he let out.
"S-Søren g-gave it t-to me," Hans hiccupped out. "H-he to-told me I nee-need t-to... B-but I can't."
"He told you that you need to what, Hans?" Clement asked.
"I don't... I don't..."
"Don't what?"
"W-want to be a monster. Søren s-said he wasn't and then... and then he hurt Father... And he said I wasn't... And... I... But a cat... and the bird... And Søren said I need to do the right thing but..."
Benjamin tried to piece together what happened. "You saw a cat hurt this bird?"
Hans nodded, resuming his sobbing.
"And the bird was dying, wasn't it?"
Another nod.
"And you... showed it mercy?"
Hans' sobs grew louder as he chucked the knife off into the distance, his hysterics drawing attention of the guard who helped Benjamin and Clement to look for him.
"Showing mercy" was something of a new concept for Benjamin. On Søren's final day, he was given a mixture of something, and that mixture killed him. Father explained to them that he had to show Søren mercy, saying that Søren didn't want to continue on with his condition because he was suffering and there was nothing anyone could do except end his suffering quickly.
Father explained that sometimes such things were the right thing to do. Hans had done the same to the bird.
Benjamin was trying to process everything, until Hans let out a bloodcurdling scream.
"I want to die! I hate this! I hate all of this!" the thirteenth-born shrieked. He slammed the back of his head against the tombstone behind him. Then he did it again. And again.
Both Benjamin and Clement looked on in shock, frozen and unable to comprehend what their little brother was doing. The guard rushed over and scooped up Hans, holding the little prince in a tight embrace to keep him from harming himself further.
"Why? Why Søren? Why? Why?" Hans continued to scream, this time drawing the attention of everyone else at the funeral. He squirmed in the guard's arms, struggling to free himself. "Let me go! Let me die! I miss him! I miss him! I'm a monster! I can't do the right thing! I can't!"
Something grabbed into the middle of Benjamin's abdomen. The twelfth-born ran up to the guard and tapped him on the back.
"Let me hold him," Benjamin said.
The guard looked between the writhing bundle he held and the not-much-older prince before him, hesitant. He let go of Hans, who was deftly wrapped in his brother's arms and pulled to the ground, both on their knees on the dirt.
Benjamin buried his head into his little brother's shoulder. "Please don't, Hans. I can't lose another brother, too. Please stop. I miss him, too. You're not a monster, Hans. Søren was really sick. You're not sick like him. Please."
Only the royal family knew what he meant by "sick."
Hans, being much smaller than his brother, planted his face firmly against Benjamin's chest. But he grew still and silent, the occasional hiccup jostling the both of them as he calmed down. Benjamin gently checked the back of Hans' head, letting out a relieved sigh when it looked like his brother didn't do any damage.
Benjamin didn't understand mourning or death or wanting to die, but for some reason he knew Hans had more experience with them than he did. He didn't understand why, but he knew.
He heard his other brothers approach the two of them, their voices distorted with worry and sorrow. He felt hands hold both him and Hans, prying the two of them apart to be comforted separately.
Prince Benjamin had so many questions that he knew only Hans would know the answer to. Benjamin knew, and he knew that he should never ask those questions.
Everything about this felt so wrong.
Author's Note: I haven't been updating in so long, argh. Bear with me, since I feel like my writing has gotten lackluster and out of practice. I'm sorry if this chapter isn't as great as the previous ones.