Diminishing Candlelight
"Long ago, in Ancient China, the peacocks King Kepa and Queen Zhang ruled over Gongmen City. They brought great joy and prosperity to the city, for they had given birth to a son, Prince Shen. The king and queen also brought about the creation of the firework. For many years, Gongmen and its citizens thrived and flourished in peace and happiness. But young Prince Shen had seen a darker power within his parents' creation. What had brought colour and joy, could also bring darkness and destruction…"
Prince Shen rushed out of his comfortable bedroom-workshop hybrid, beak hanging with a grin, eyes alight with joy. "Mother! Father! I've had an epiphany!"
In the grand dining room, King Kepa and Queen Zhang were peacefully sitting, having their intake of dinner after another day of running the kingdom.
"Son, you missed breakfast and lunch," the queen crooned, violet eyes softly glimmering with parental worry.
"It was all worth it!" Shen squawked back, ecstasy lathering his voice, "I've found another way to utilize our fireworks!"
"Enlighten us, my boy," Kepa spoke up, his features showing keen indulgence in his only son. The teenage peacock lead the way back to his quarters. He presented his parents with calculation-riddled blueprints, the volatile chemical elements, and the miniature wooden sculptures of his envisioned creation.
"Shen… this is all wonderful… and I can tell that you've put many years of planning and forethought into this, but…" Kepa started, hesitation gripping his spine, "I am not sure that this is what the people need…"
"Or want," Zhang finished.
"Why wouldn't they want it?" Shen queried, "It would help bolster our army. We'd be unstoppable. Nobody would defeat us anymore. We would never be wiped out. We would have no need for Kung Fu anymore!"
His parents didn't reply to that last sentence, as they were too busy processing and replying to the first few.
"I know with that kind of power we would never be defeated, son, but for an utopian society, we people should aim to be–"
"Pacifistic! I know that already!" Shen drawled irritably, "You've given me that lecture a thousand times, Father!"
When he was 5, Shen had clashed with a classmate at school who had poked fun at his sickliness and albinism. Though his parents had shown pride for him standing up for himself, they were also disappointed that Shen had went to extremes, leaving lacerations littered all over the goose boy's chest and face. Since then, his parents had tried to instill in him the virtues of mercy, compassion, and understanding. But their son still seemed to run into similar problems every other year.
Shen continued his little spiel, "But I know that there comes a day when pacifism will fail. Nearly all of the immediate nations around us blaze with war. When the walls of security crumble, we need to be prepared. I know my cannon is the key to all of this!"
"Shen," his mother said, voice gentle but entirely firm, "You need to stop playing with these trinkets when your alone and instead take the time to think about what you're implying and planning to bring about when your time comes to rule this city."
She motioned a wing to Kepa, "My dear, I think we must leave for a bit and let our son grow a little more."
Zhang walked out, her talons clicking on the floor, but her husband stopped to give his son one more thing.
"Very sharp eloquence you've got there, my son," the king complimented. Then he left his son to his own thoughts.
This is what it feels like to be Prince Shen right now.
You are left simmering in the tides of your rising, boiling frustration. You cast a look at all your best work, once again shoved to the side by the people most dearest to you. Your parents have left you alone to "grow a little more", thinking that that's the cure to the virus that eats away at your sanity. They're wrong. You need approval, and reassurance. If not those two things, then you need comfort, gentle wisdom, and a guiding wing. Stuff that just always seems to be out of your reach as of late.
You pace around, your inner walls starting to succumb to the fire of your soul. You think about the two others close to you. Your kindly goat tutor, and your childhood friend… your childhood friend… Quan.
Quan is a young lieutenant in your parents' special wolf forces. He is 5 years your senior (you are 15), but he's like the big brother you wished you had. He's open, provides a listening ear, and he'd do anything for you.
So, grabbing the blueprints and a spare prototype model miniature off your bedside desk, with a heart fluttering full of excitement you make your way over to the barracks of the royal forces.
"My lord," Quan spoke up, upon seeing the young prince gracefully glide through the open doors, "How nice to see you."
"Quan, I ask you this not as an order or a favour, but as a request from a dear friend," Shen spoke, cutting to the point, "I need you and your two best men to escort me out in public, where I will be showcasing my latest work to the people."
"Yes, my lord," Quan replied, already knowing what his best friend was talking about. Shen had shared with him his dream of inventing an instrument that would seal the glory of Gongmen, and Quan had shown open enthusiasm and unbridled support in return. Shen deeply appreciated the high praise.
"I'll have two men ready for escort in five minutes," Quan continued, keen confidence etched onto his wolfish features.
"Brilliant," Shen grinned back, feeling his heartbeat rise and feathers ruffle with the flow of joyful satisfaction.