Wow, I thank the brave souls who ventured out to give me a comment! It means a lot! Well I braved the world and typed up the second chapter...Hopefully all goes well. Remember, I love to hear constructive criticism and compliments.What writer doesn't? So, If you wish...replies are appreciated! Thanks to all who read this, it means alot!
Svadilfari- I thank you for the compliment, and kudos for catching on to the name. I didn't think people would! You'll figure the reason for it in this chapter...hopefully I explain it well enough
kyra-maRia- Thanks for the review! And yes, Aladdin did inspire this story immensely, as did another tale, but I'll let people guess. I'm not so sure of Sleeping Beauty though. Again, thanks for the reply.
Tisserand Reveur- I thank you for reading the chapter, and for replying! A Mary-Sue eh? That's okay, I appreciate your honesty. Hopefully, the lass can shed the Mary-Sue shell eh? But thank you lots for your compliment!
Again, its rated T, though, its not yet bad...I hope!
And now for me to shut up and let you all read...
Ahal sat silently at the table. His eyes flickered to the five other people engrossed in conversation. Watching Princess Kidi converse with his father was like watching an earthworm squirm on the hot sands of Keheal. Her thin lips quivered as he turned his attentions towards King Didion. Ahal smirked, way to go father.
The prince glanced nonchalantly at Mikimi, still glaring at him. If looks could kill, Ahal felt as though he would have been dead before lunch with the way she stared at him. Making sure Mikimi witnessed himself rolling his eyes; he toyed with the meal before him, waiting impatiently for his father to finish the meal. When Hamod finished, Ahal could escape this torment. Deciding to strike up a conversation, Ahal went to the person he knew would have some remark to say.
"So Princess Mikimi, how long are your father and yourself planning to stay in Keheal?" Ahal pondered quietly, not wishing for his father to overhear the conversation. Hamod would invite them to stay as long as they wished. Ahal, on the other hand, wanted them all gone as fast as they could leave.
Mikimi seemed to see the concern on Ahal's face, for her lips curled into a smirk. Speaking, perhaps in the loudest 'normal' voice one could have, she answered, "Oh dear prince, my father and I would love to stay for as long as your father wishes for our presence."
Hamod had overheard the princesses answer, smiling broadly he joined the conversation, "Why dear Princess Mikimi, Ahal and I would be more than pleased to house you and our father. Isn't that right Ahal?"
Ahal coughed, "Hm? Oh, um, yes of course...we would be...honored." he spluttered, feeling as if his throat had begun to throttle him for saying such rubbish. Putting on a fake smile, he nodded to his father, silently screaming inside. Now he not only had to avoid Kidi and Cillian, but Mikimi as well?
The presence at the table seemed to grow cold to Ahal. He felt as though someone was staring, wishing to see him dead. His brown eyes met the icy ones of Cillian. The glare he gave seemed powerful, and almost sorcery-like. Ahal could not shake the feeling that this Cillian was hiding something great. The prince looked down at his own hands, making sure he looked the same. He had heard legend of what some wizards had transfigured people into.
The clink of the silverware caused the Prince to jump. He sighed out of relief, Hamod had finished with his meal and Ahal wasted no time, "Father, please excuse the rude interruption, but I must be leaving this fine luncheon." Turning to the guests, he once again plastered a smile upon his face, "It has been an honor to dine with all of you, now...please excuse me." Without waiting for a reply from anyone, Ahal walked briskly to the stairwell.
The echoes of his feet reverberating off the stairwells wall were the only noises heard from Ahal. He took no notice of this as he was immersed deeply in his thoughts. The prince could not shake how Cillian had such a grasp upon him. The thoughts of the king being a sorcerer seemed more and more likely. He had read a book on the magic of sorcery. Ahal still remembered the part that spoke of how they did not reveal their real name. Only those they trusted and their victims ever heard it. As the prince came to his chambers, he walked straight to his bed and collapsed. The stress of the day overwhelmed him. Kidi and Mikimi were no more than two pains in his neck that were residing in the castle for God only knows how long. His eyes began to droop. Glancing outside to his balcony, the setting sun painted for the coming night sky with streaks of red and yellow, orange, and pink, so many warm colors slowly being consumed by the cool sky of night. Soft snores filled the room as Ahal had finally drifted into his dream land.
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"Please Ahmed, you must understand!" Hamod pleaded.
Cillian glared at the king, "Do not use my name! You will just endanger your son more than he already is!" snapped the king. He clutched his staff, a tall black ebony stick, fixing his eyes upon the king of Keheal with a glare suitable for a hawk, "This Didion and his daughter are messing up my plans...get rid of them, or I will."
Hamod sat, thinking, yearning for a plan against this Cillian. He sighed, "I-I cannot just throw them out! That would be outrageous! It may even result in war!"
Ahmed, or Cillian as the world called him, glared at the older king. "You bring a good point, what with a war, but remember, Kidi and Ahal are to be wed. If they are not...well, need I go on?" Cillian questioned, smirking in triumph.
Hamod closed his eyes, his son, his dear son. In order to prevent the curse Cillian had threatened he would issue, Ahal had to marry Kidi. Not a problem, if you over looked the fact it pained the prince to speak to such a lady. "Yes Ahmed, er-Cillian, I know what will happen." Standing, Hamod retreated to the stairwell, "Now, I trust you can find your way to the guest room. I am weary and need rest, good night."
Walking through the corridors, Hamod's mind drifted to the past, to the day that changed the way he thought. The curse, it seemed so long ago. He and his wife had married, living in bliss and glee. Hamod was overjoyed at the fact his wife soon was pregnant. All he could hope Allah would give him was a son; an heir to the throne and someone to carry his bloodlines through the years. The nine months went so fast. The king stilled refused to relive the night of the birth. So hard was the labor, his wife had died. She was his lover, his partner for life, and she left bringing his son in the world. He did not blame the babe; in fact he cared for his son and doted upon him, trying to avoid thinking of his wife as he looked into the babes eyes...so like his mothers. The grief was great, but as the years passed, grief seemed to lessen, filled with joy from the growing prince.
An advisor came to bless the child, and Hamod had no problem with inviting him into his life. Nowadays, Hamod wished this Cillian would never have heard of Ahal. The day of the princes coming of age festival came, and with it, a gift Hamod considered a curse. Cillian was a sorcerer, and with a slip of the tongue, had told Hamod his real name, Ahmed. In order to protect himself, Cillian cursed the young prince. If he were not to marry, by his twenty first birthday, a transformation would take place, one that would transfigure the prince into a demon of the night, a creature that, in order to survive; would have to live in the desert for all eternity.
For three years, Hamod had tried to convince the youth to marry. Ahal always questioned this, suspicious of his father. Hamod had not the heart to tell him of the curse. As Ahal's twenty first birthday drew near, Cillian seemed to have a change of plans. His daughter Kidi wished for Ahal. The twisted girl had lusted after him for two years now, and finally seemed to be making a dent. The new threat of Cillians was, 'Ahal must marry Kidi...or else'. Hamod had tried everything, from assassins to death threats to destroy Cillian, but the sorcerer was too powerful.
Nearing his chambers, Hamod threw himself out of dreamland. He should not dwell in the past; he must stay in the present...for his son. As the elderly king drifted into sleep, his dreams consisted of his youthful days, with the love of his life, taken too soon.
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The night breezes of the deserts drifted into the chambers of the prince. Stirring in his sleep, Ahal tossed and turned, so many problems he had to think through, so little time. His brown eyes flickered open as he stared at the moon. He was to be married, he knew his father wished this, but he did not. Ahal did not want to be with one woman. He was the prince, he should be with many. Scratching his neck, Ahal moped out of his bed and wandered to the balcony. The echoes of the stable came to him; he heard a whinny, loud and sorrowful. It was Nero; he knew that horses voice anywhere. Wondering why the Arabian was up at this hour, Ahal snuck to the stairwell.
All was silent as he moved towards the kitchen doors. Opening the door as quiet as possible, Ahal squeezed through the tiny opening there. A voice caused his blood to run cold. Someone was coming through the kitchen. The question was, who was it?
Kidi meandered through the castle. Every once in a while she spoke to herself, a habit she had grown into. The kitchen was silent, so one would think everyone was asleep. As she heard a shuffle of feet, not her own, she froze. Turning quickly, she came face to face with Ahal. Both gasped.
"Oh! Forgive me Prince, I-I did not know anyone was awake at this hour," Kidi began, smirking she drew closer to the prince, "Though, as we are to be wed, what better way to get to know each other than by these nightly jaunts, eh?" she questioned seductively.
Ahal began to feel uncomfortable, a common feeling in the presence of Kidi. He had no feelings for her and yet she seemed to think he did. As she spoke of marriage, Ahal coughed, "Um, yes, nightly jaunts, but...we are not to be Wed." he reassured. Ahal would downright refuse to marriage with this lass. He could barely stand speaking with her for two minutes. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I must be going." Scurrying out the kitchen door, Ahal did not see the sly glint in the Princess's eyes.
"My prince, we will be wed...my father will be sure of this." she whispered smartly.
"Whose to be wed?" a voice suddenly erupted in question.
Kidi turned quickly, sneering at the dark figure. "Who goes there!" she snapped nervously. As the shadow emerged, she let out a sigh of relief. It was just Mikimi. "Oh, princess Mikimi, I do not know who is to be wed; it was just a...figure of speech."
Mikimi nodded, suspicious of Kidi, "I see."
Kidi smiled harshly at Mikimi, "Yes...Good night." She replied, sneaking off to her guest chamber, leaving Mikimi alone.
Mikimi smiled, it was ironic how so many people were awake at this hour of all times. Sitting in the kitchen chair, she closed her eyes, thinking her own day through. She had finally met Ahal, the prince of Keheal. Every female she had spoken to in her past had told her he was such a fine specimen, a real thoroughbred champion. All Mikimi saw was a lost little boy, doomed to be a prince. She almost pitied him; having to go through life, everyone controlling what he did. Sure he was handsome, but handsome boys just did not seem to...speak with her without some harsh words spoken, or an awkward silence. Ahal was no different than any who were in her life, but she would not think through her life. Her journey past was a closed book, never to be reopened.
Slowly, her eyelids drifted to sleep with the steady lull of the silence in the night air.
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Ahal sighed angrily. He had been up all night, now, as twilight peeked its way over the dunes, he was heading back to the castle. Nero had been lonely, he supposed, for the horse was silent as soon as the prince entered.
Feeling slightly irritated at the fact that he had lost vital rest; Ahal stormed into the kitchen and slammed the doors with a force greater than the winds of the desert sandstorm.
A shriek filled the room, followed by a thud. Ahal's attentions turned to the table. Mikimi was picking herself up from the floor. Seeing him, she curtsied, looking slightly disgruntled.
Ahal rolled his eyes, "Do you always sleep on the kitchen floor?"
Mikimi seemed taken aback by the comment, "No, I don't. But when a prince, said to be graceful and at peace barges through the kitchens, slamming the doors as though the hounds of the hell gates were after him...yes, I suppose anyone would fall upon the floor-not, sleep on it." She spoke; her voice had slowly risen throughout her outburst.
Ahal stared in amazement, "And to think you said that all in one breath." He spoke sarcastically, before adding, "But, okay...whatever you say."
The awkward silence between the two lasted for what seemed like a lifetime before Ahal finally spoke. Mikimi sighed in relief, finally a voice in the air.
"Well, I must be going Princess Mikimi...so, excuse me." Shuffling through the door, Ahal had left as quickly as he had come.
Mikimi let out a frustrated and yet silent grunt. Yes, this was a start to a perfect morning for sure. Storming out of the kitchen, she retreated to her room, leaving the kitchen as silent as it always was.
Well, there's the second chapter of the story. What did you think. Is it worth writing more? Is it scary beyond all reason? Tell me, I'm curious to know what you all think.