When Sofin's footsteps slowed and eventually stopped, he found himself stranded in the woods, lost in more ways than one. Leaning against the trunk of one of the trees, Sofin sighed. He had hoped his second day as a prince would be better than his first, but instead, it had only been worse. James had purposefully gotten Sofin to ride that swing and fall into the fountain, and then when Sofin had gotten up, James was laughing. Sofin wasn't sure what to think, but he knew one thing for sure: he and James were no longer friends. And with that friendship broken, Sofin wasn't even sure what being a prince was good for, after all.

His back to the tree, Sofin opened his mouth again to sing.

"I'm not ready to be a royal, I wish it wasn't true.
Thought James was my friend, but it was pretend, and I'm tired of Amber ignoring me too!
I'm not ready to be a royal, I know it isn't right.
Thought I could belong, but it all was wrong, so I hope that my mom and I leave here tonight!
I'm Sofin, not a noble prince.
Just Sofin, maybe she'd be convinced,
I'm not ready to be a royal."

"Chirp chirp chirp."

"Huh?" questioned Sofin reflexively. Where did that noise come from?

"Chirp chirp chirp chirp!"

The bird sounded distressed. Sofin followed the sounds of the chirping and pushed aside some tall grass to find a small green bird standing on the forest floor. The bird flapped its tiny wings, but didn't rise into the air. It must have been too young to fly. It was still chirping a lot, clearly hurt or worried.

"Chirp chirp chirp."

Sofin looked up to see a larger bird sitting within a nest made of straw and sticks, balanced on one branch of a large tree. The older bird was also green, with a bright yellow beak. It pointed its wing down at the smaller bird, and Sofin suddenly understood. 'I think that's the small bird's mother. But the small bird is far away from home and can't fly back.'

Suddenly feeling a deep sense of empathy for the tiny bird, Sofin cupped his hands around the little green bird and lifted it up into the air, to its mother's nest. Carefully avoiding the claws and beak, Sofin put the bird next to its mother, and the two of them cuddled close. "There," said Sofin quietly to himself, thinking of his old life with his mom. "Just the two of you. As it should be."

The school bell rang from far off in the distance. Sofin realized that must have been the direction of the school. He waved a final goodbye to the two birds, and, though he knew they couldn't understand him, said, "I guess I gotta go back. Bye!" Then the boy walked towards the sound of the bell, hoping to find his way back.

As Sofin walked away, he thought he heard a tiny voice call "Thank you!" but figured it was just the wind.

The afternoon's classes passed quickly. Sofin avoided James all day, not ready to face the prince and definitely not ready to face his hurt feelings. Even on the flying coach ride back, Sofin made sure to sit in one corner of the coach and look everywhere but James's face. When arriving at the Enchancian castle, Sofin opened the door and ran out of the coach as quickly as he could, not bothering to look back.

When he finally entered the castle, Sofin wanted nothing more than to find his mom and convince her that he wasn't ready to be a prince. But even though he had somehow found his way the previous night, Sofin wasn't quite sure where his mom's room was. After a few minutes of wandering the empty halls of the castle and wishing he were back in the village, Sofin had to admit he was completely lost.

As Sofin approached a set of stairs, the royal sorcerer, Mr. Ceedric, jumped out from behind a conveniently placed pillar. "Prince Sofin," he asked kindly, "how was your first day of school?"

"Tougher than I thought it would be," sighed Sofin. It had actually been awful terrible the absolute worst, but he didn't want to spoil Mr. Ceedric's good mood.

"Aw, poor thing," said the sorcerer, patting Sofin on the head. Sofin appreciated the comfort. The royal sorcerer really was one of the nicest people in the palace. "Well then," continued Mr. Ceedric, "how would you like a private tour of my lair, I mean workshop? You know, not even the king himself has seen it."

Whether it was a lair or a workshop, Sofin figured anywhere Mr. Ceedric spent his time must have been wonderful. He was curious, too: what was so special about the magical workshop that the king himself hadn't seen it? Sofin excitedly followed the royal sorcerer up the stairs and towards one of the side towers. He could feel his mood improving already!

There were a lot of stairs to get to Mr. Ceedric's workshop. The floor and walls here were made of dark blue and green stones, and the walls held large statues of all sorts of magical creatures. Sofin spotted a dragon and admired it as he followed the sorcerer. Sofin liked the cool colors of the hallway: they were calming and comforting, just like the purple of his amulet. Eventually, Mr. Ceedric arrived at a large wooden door, and grabbed a key hidden in the toe of one of the statues. He unlocked the door and opened it with a great flourish. "And this, my dear, is where the magic happens."

Almost quivering in excitement, Sofin entered the sorcerer's workshop. Mr. Ceedric clapped his hands, and in a flash candles along the walls suddenly lit, illuminating the dark workshop. It was rather small, but also quite cozy. The candles revealed a huge desk filled with all sorts of gadgets and potion flasks. Along the walls hung paintings and shelves of spellbooks, and one wall contained a window with a beautiful view of the countryside. Sofin wondered if one of the tiny villages in the distance was his own.

"Caw!" Sofin was startled out of his observation by the crow of a raven, who stood on a wooden perch. He looked to Mr. Ceedric for an explanation.

"Oh, that's just Wormwood, my raven," said the sorcerer, not at all sounding concerned. "Now, stop it, Wormy! You're scaring the prince." The raven stopped cawing.

Mr. Ceedric took a moment to point out the various areas of the workshop. Sofin was happy to hear that the desk was indeed where all the royal potions were made. The boy wished he could try to make some potions himself. Looking around once more, Sofin noticed a stand with an open spellbook, and the illustration on the front of it looked a lot like his own amulet, down to the silver outline.

"Hey! That looks just like my amulet," said Sofin, hoping Mr. Ceedric would understand more about it.

"Why, you're right," said Mr. Ceedric, who seemed similarly surprised. "But if you had the Amulet of Avalor, you'd know. It contains powerful magic." He placed a finger to the paragraph beside the illustration, tracing out the words as he spoke. "With each deed performed, for better or worse, a power is granted, a blessing or curse."

"Really?" asked Sofin.

"Well, yes, you know, if it's the real amulet," said Mr. Ceedric, who still sounded a little skeptical. But Sofin was already convinced. The king had told him earlier that the amulet seemed to be calling for him to put it on. And even now, with the amulet resting on his neck, Sofin felt a sense of safety and security coming from it. Even if it wasn't the Amulet of Avalor, Sofin was sure it was a magical amulet of some kind.

The royal sorcerer continued, "But only a certified sorcerer, such as myself, could know for sure. If you'd like, I could take a look at it?"

Sofin shook his head. "Thanks, but I promised to never take it off. And my mother says, 'a broken promise can never be put back together.'"

"How…irritatingly charming," said Mr. Ceedric. He stopped to look at his bare wrist, and tapped it with his wand. "Oh, look at the time," he said, clearly having used magic to know it was getting late. He pushed Sofin out of the workshop as he spoke. "Hope you enjoyed the tour. I know how hard it can be adjusting to royal life, so if you need anything, my door is always open." He slammed the door.

"Really, really hard," sighed Sofin to himself.

Sofin left Mr. Ceedric's tower, feeling slightly better about being part of the royal family. The king believed he could make a great prince—why else would he be given a magical amulet? Instead of trying to find his mom's room so they could leave immediately, Sofin resolved to give it one more day. Maybe things would suddenly take a turn for the better? Sofin started on the path to his new room, still hesitant but feeling better than he had all day.

Sofin's mood fell a little when he saw a figure blocking his path towards his room. Amber. The princess had barely tried to talk with him all day, and had even left when he was talking with Princess Hildegard and Princess Clio. Now she wanted to talk? Sofin felt a little bit of bitterness rise up inside, and tried his best to squash it. 'No,' he thought. 'If I'm going to be staying here any longer, I should still try to make friends with Princess Amber.'

When Sofin approached, Amber spoke first. "You know, James does that prank on every new student who comes to the school."

Sofin stopped abruptly. "Oh."

Amber continued. "Yeah, he's pretty upset that you couldn't take a silly joke. He's been miserable all day."

"Oh," said Sofin.

Amber kept going, though Sofin was only half-listening at this point. "I suppose if you can't take a small prank like the rest of us royals, maybe you don't belong—"

"I have to apologize now!" yelled Sofin, cutting the princess off, then immediately running towards James's room.

"James's room is the other way!" called Amber, and Sofin turned and ran the other way. Oops.

As Sofin raced through the corridors of the huge castle, he kept remembering all the moments when James had tried to welcome him into the family. The way he had greeted Sofin when they first arrived. Surprising Sofin with the flying coach, and asking him to join the Flying Derby team. Trying to introduce Sofin to the other princes. Even using that nickname, 'Sof'. James had only been nice to Sofin from the moment he had arrived, and Sofin had responded by assuming James wasn't his friend and ignoring him all day. Sofin felt awful.

Reaching the entrance to James's room, Sofin threw the doors open. James was sitting on the bed, his head hung low. He raised his eyes to meet Sofin's, and the two made eye contact for half a second before two voices said in unison,

"I'm sorry!"

Sofin paused for a moment. James kept going.

"I'll go first. I'm sorry I told you to go on the enchanted swing earlier, knowing you would land in the fountain. But more than that, I'm sorry I laughed at you when you got out of the pool."

Sofin shook his head. "No, I'm the one who should be sorry. You've tried your best to welcome me as a part of this family, and all I did today was ignore you because I thought we weren't friends after a little prank. I didn't know you felt terrible all day. I shouldn't have been so sensitive. I won't be, next time."

James sighed. "No, you shouldn't have to change who you are just to fit in. I shouldn't have thought you'd just be okay with it, either. I know Amber wouldn't have been, if she were on that swing." James's eyes fell to the floor. "When you got here, I promised dad I'd do my very best to help you feel like a member of the family. I said I'd show you what it means to be a good prince. But instead, I've been a royal dunce."

He looked back up, meeting Sofin in the eyes. "But maybe I can make it up to you? I'll start by helping you learn all the things you'll need to know for the ball on Friday. And if you ever need advice, you can come to my room."

Sofin smiled. "I would love that." He held out his hands. "Friends?"

James took the offered hands in his own. "Friends."

Suddenly overwhelmed with relief, Sofin threw himself at James and hugged his brother tightly. However, he'd misjudged the momentum, and the two fell together onto James's bed with a thump.

James started laughing. "Hey, don't do that! I'm ticklish!"

Sofin grinned wickedly. "You shouldn't have said that." He immediately dug his fingers beneath James's arms and began tickling.

James was laughing wildly, and so Sofin was completely unprepared for the prince to suddenly roll over and jab his own fingers beneath Sofin's arms and start tickling. Sofin laughed involuntarily, and managed to say between laughs, "Oh…it…is…on!"

The laughter of the two from the tickle war carried well on into the night.