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Fantasy The Crown Unseen

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keep precious things
The Prince had never felt so excited in his life. Was it a good kind of excited? Probably not. He was incredibly nervous, as well as a tad bit suspicious. Why again did he need bodyguards? When had his mother ever decided that he was in danger? And since when had she even cared? The Queen seemed a frivolous character, too caught up with her royal duties to get to know her son. But the Prince knew why she was keeping herself busy; she was embarrassed. Too embarrassed to look at her son, even if he couldn't look back. He knew all too well about those blue eyes of hers, of his father's, and why they were so important.

The Prince often cursed himself, berating something that was not his own fault to begin with. Why, oh why did he have no eyes? Could he not at least have one, to view the world with and to earn his parents' love? That was what he convinced himself that he craved, that that was the one thing he was missing. If he just had that, everything would be so much better. Even if he had just one eye, he would have a chance at passing the Ceremony, which was looming over his head with an ominous atmosphere.

The Prince tapped his foot anxiously as he waited. He stood in the outer parts of his chambers, a hand lightly touching the desk beside him so that he knew his position. The Queen had insisted that he meet the guards somewhat informally, probably so she didn't have to show up. Of course, she hadn't said anything like that, what with her sickly sweet voice that would convey to anyone who didn't know her that she was gentle and loving. The Prince, on the other hand, knew a different, more commanding side of her. He didn't hate her, no, but there was something about her that made him wish he could go far away from here.

Clara hadn't appeared yet, but the Prince wasn't worried. Knowing her, it was likely she was organizing his books again, even though she was really think only one that ever touched them, or taking care of some ridiculously small detail. Clara was like that, but the Prince didn't mind. She was his one true friend, even if she was being paid to be around him. She was a good tutor, sure, and a strict one at that. Everything had to be just right, just like she wanted it, or she might go into one of her famous lectures on education.

The body of the Prince suddenly stiffened as he heard a sound from outside the door, the soft patter of footsteps climbing the few stairs that led to his doorway. He knew it could only be the four guards he had been expecting all day, the four highly trained, mostly likely very deadly, people that have been assigned him as... Bodyguards? The Prince wasn't exactly sure. In truth, he had never been told exactly why they were here. Then again, no one questioned the Queen. It wasn't that anyone feared her; it was just that her atmosphere commanded that kind of respect.

"Clara!" The Prince hissed as loudly as he dared to avoid the four outside from hearing him. "They're here!" His focus turned elsewhere when he heard the click of the door, signaling that the Royal Guard had arrived. While he couldn't see them, he tried his best to focus his head in the general direction that they might be.

He was suddenly acutely aware of the crown of beaten iron that covered his empty eye sockets, which had almost been made to ridicule his own existence.
 
Clara was in the Prince's chambers organizing his books again and dusting his shelf. She didn't have to but she wanted to. He had a good collection and she would read to him sometimes. Once she was done she headed to where the prince was.

Right now she was wearing a long and appropriate dress that of which you would normally see a tutor wear. A lot of the times she never bothered cause it would be just her and the Prince. She usually wore a more flowing and sometime short dress. But today she had to dress up since the guards were coming and she wondered if she would be running into the Queen also, which she was really hoping she wouldn't. She never fully liked the Queen. She found her..fake. As she reached the outer part of his chambers she stopped and looked at him. Because he didn't have eyes she taught him by using his other senses. Like hearing, smell, touch and taste which'd helped a lot. Though certain subjects she couldn't fully teach him. Mostly cause she wasn't entirely sure how.

She was suddenly snapped out of her thoughts when she heard him call her name. She walked into the room. "I'm here" She stood next to him. She noticed he seemed tense and nervous. She couldn't blame him. "Alright don't be so nervous, relax and straighten that back." Clara said as she straighten him up. "There now much better." She said smiling.
boo. boo.
 
Lance Delaclare

To say Lance was frustrated with the lack of information as well as intrigued was a gross understatement. His breath steady and gait strong, the Guard marched briskly through the hall leading towards the Prince's Chambers. No one had seen him; the mystery surrounding the man was one that enticed all including him. What would we be like? A man of silence? One with disability? Maybe a monster that could not be shown to the world.

He would know soon.

Lance peered to the side, shooting quick glances towards his newly acquainted comrades. They would help him in protecting the Prince. He had not chosen to interact too much with them - they had no time.

The two females seemed skilled, one was incredibly tall, her head meeting his in height. The light blonde was cool - the aura she gave off was calculating, intelligent, and maybe a bit more.

And then there was the male. He seemed kind, a person of good word. All four were dressed in the normal Royal Guard attire, fitted to their exact size as per instruction of the Queen. If Lance were not on duty, he would relish in the luxury that was being splurged on him.

As he was the one in front of all the others, Lance grasped the door handle, pulling the door open with a grand flourish. It seemed proper. The spectacle left the corner of his lip turned upward in a subtle smirk. One would have to look close to see it.

With the chamber open, Lance blinked, touching his forehead where the strap of his black and gold eye-patch rested. It was new, made to match the uniform required of him. He straightened his back, placing his shoulders in a stance so that he would not be derailed from the sight of the Prince. Rumors flew and no one really knew anything of the truth. But Lance would be ready despite what would occur.

Although, when his dark, golden eyes shifted onto the figure of the Prince, he wanted to make a sound of shock. But he refrained, glancing over to the woman beside him. He returned to looking at the Prince, his striking light hair and his hands. Everything about him was princely. He was no monster.

And so Lance allowed himself to look at the iron crown that sat on the Prince's nose. It covered his eyes. Much like Lance's eye-patch. He chose not to shy away from the sight, instead his eyes settled upon the Prince straight on. His head was tilted as if attempting to pin-point their location.

Lance did not doubt the Prince's ability to hear. And so he dropped to his knee as he was trained to do so in front of royalty.

"Your Majesty."

Tags: boo. boo. animegirl20 animegirl20 | | Location: Front of Prince's Chambers
 
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Uniform all buttoned up, body standing straight and head held low. This was the posture Chevy assumed before going inside the prince's chambers, making sure she was proper enough to be a Royal Guard, but not enough that she would exude arrogance. Her other comrades looked just about serious as she was, not paying attention to anyone but themselves. Each was only stealing glances from the other, nothing more, nothing less. Chevy didn't pay much attention to them either, just checking their features and the aura they gave off in a split second each glance. The eyepatched boy gave a lax, demanding aura, while the other boy gave off a much calmer vibe. The other female didn't really give off anything special, almost as if she was distant, Chevy stood taller than the others, but it didn't make the others less skilled-looking.

Chevy could almost feel the tension building up amongst her peers whilst standing in front of the closed doors. It was no surprise, after all, the appearance of the Prince has always been kept a secret by the Royal Family, and no one knew why. Some said the Prince was actually a girl. Others debated that he has a plethora of magic powers that needed to be hidden from other kingdoms as a final resort in war. Chevy only knew one thing about the prince; that he would be giving orders she would have to follow.

All in all, whoever she ended up working for, she wouldn't care less. Not even a monster would shy Chevy away from her position as a Royal Guard. In Chevy's mind only flashed one thought; "Orders given to me are absolute."

It didn't take too long for Chevy to finally enter the prince's chambers. One second later, the eyepatched boy would open the previously closed doors. Chevy quickly analyzed the sight before her, a picturesque room filled with dozens of things, and in the center stood a man--which was obviously the prince--accompanied by a woman. The prince wore his silver crown just enough to cover his eyes, his pointy nose supporting the base of the crown enough to keep it straight. Why he did, though, was another question. The woman stood kind of lax, and spoke in a way so casual to the prince that it actually ticked Chevy off.

However, before much more questions popped into Chevy's mind, she bowed and let an assured tone escape her lips, unsurprisingly, at the same time with all of her comrades;

"Your Majesty."
 
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Annette Lorenson
❝ Your, Majesty ❞

Location: the prince's bedroom
Status: bowing to the prince
Mood: anxious
Interactions: Royal Guard


Deep breath, deep breath. Annette tried to avoid eye contact with the other guards near her, but she snuck glances from the side of her eye. One of the males seemed stern and uncomfortably stiff, while the other with the eye-patch seemed slightly disgruntled and nervous. The female by her side was a few inches taller than her, making her feel awkward and small. Clearing her throat and lifting her chin high enough to be considered pretentious, she turned her head away from them and continued walking. The silence that usually calmed Anne seemed to increase her anxiety this time, and for once, she would give anything to have conversation bubbling, but to no use. The only sounds were the clicks of the soldiers' heels echoing down the empty hallway.

Annette breathed a silent sigh of relief when they finally reached the Prince's chamber doors. As one of male guards opened the door, Anne's mouth quirked into a slight smile. He seemed to not be as affected as the rest of them, but she suspected that he was just hiding his nervousness. She took a deep breath as the door opened to reveal a -- a normal-looking prince? For all they years she had been trained as a guard, she had heard the rumors flying about (although she had not listened to them, for a good soldier would not allow such gossip to distract them from their studies); he was a beast, he was so disfigured that even the queen and king could not bear to look at their own child. But as Annette stared at the male in front of her, she could see nothing strange about him except the mask covering his eyes.

Dropping to one knee like the rest of the guards, she bowed her head and did the one thing that she felt like she was expected to do. "Your Majesty," she said, with the amount of respect expected from a guard.
 
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Alots Lazardis


This was the moment he had been waiting for. Ever since Alots got his mission, he had been thinking nonstop about the prince. There were lots of rumours that spread around amongst the commonfolk and gossiping nobles that the guards picked up on. Personally, his favorite was that the prince was born of the gods, with downy wings the size of men, and could only have eyes laid upon him by his most loyal lest you turn to stone. Of course, he knew that was nonsense, but he liked to entertain that idea over the ones that painted the prince as some kind of horribly disfigured beast. Optimism.

Just as he, the other three guards were acceptably punctual. Though, unacceptably, perhaps just a tad bit more punctual than he. By time he arrived, the other three were all there standing idly by the door of their prince's chambers. The one who drew his eye most was the enviably tall male closest to the door; he wore an eyepatch and seemed to hold himself much like any other respectable man or woman of the Royal Guard. Next his pale gaze shifted to the, also, enviably tall, brown haired woman. Her demeanor seemed more distant and strict, as if it was business as usual with her, which Alots respected. She seemed the type to keep her mind focused only on the task at hand without any unnecessary distractions. Lastly, he spotted, with just the slightest bit of guilty relief, the shortest member amongst them. Her hair was of a lighter shade and while she seemed to have her head lifted too high to be considered anything but affected, her eyes seemed to convey that slight bit of nervousness that Alots was sure they all no doubt shared.

It was the taller male who made the first move and opened the chamber doors, with what Alots considered to be a bit more flourish than necessary. But he was not there to question the showy actions of his new comrades. Instead, his keen gaze caught onto the man's subtle smirk and wondered briefly if it wasn't just a trick of the eye; the lighting. He couldn't imagine what could be so entertaining about playing doorkeeper; he had done so before, and while it wasn't horrible, he definitely wasn't volunteering to guard the doors when so many others would love to do so. Being the typical gentleman, Alots let the two women enter before him, wondering briefly in his head if they would consider that offensive. He had met many female guards who harped on him for treating them as proper ladies, but he himself had never found anything wrong with it. Perhaps he was a bit oldfashioned but he had been taught manners made the man, and he simply could not imagine treating his female comrades with any less respect than he would a noble lady. With a slight furrowing of his brow to realign his focus, Alots followed the others into the room.

His gaze first landed on the prince and shifted, a woman nearby with a kind smile standing there as if emotional support. But Alots paid her very little heed other than to give her a quick once over and instead focused all his attention on the man with the crown. Unsurprisingly, the prince was no monster, nor cursed with the powers of the gods. He was just a light blonde, rather short male. Not that Alots was disappointed; it was still a great sight and honour to behold. It just made Alots feel the slightest bit foolish for even entertaining any of those ridiculous theories people had of their prince; even if it was only the fancy of his past childhood imagination that never seemed to fully dissipate. He had, after all, been wondering about the prince since the day of his royal birth, much like all the once young children of the Royal Guard.

With just as little originality, and as much predictability, as his three comrades, Alots dropped to one knee and bowed stiffly, "Your majesty."

 
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The Prince smiled as Clara fussed over him, straighting as she wanted him to and trying his best to relax. His grin quickly disappeared, however, as he heard the Royal Guards enter, and their greeting, which was spoken in unison, seemed formal and uptight. It only made sense, seeing as how he knew much about the Royal Guard and how they have been trained. These men and women were trained to the core, and he didn't doubt that they had hurt, perhaps even killed someone before.

By the sound of things, there were two females and two males. Just like his mother, to keep things nice and even. No more, no less. The Prince shook that thought from his mind, returning to the matter at hand. He was expected to act like the prince he was, which was polite, wise, and understanding. He knew he was almost never all three of those at once, for he lacked the experience he thought he needed to gain those attributes.

The Prince dipped his head in a slight incline, acknowledging the four guards. He kept his head facing forward, hoping that it was staring near the middle of the four, and kept his expression solemn. He knew if he had those icy blue eyes of his ancestors, he might have looked each guard in the face. As he did not, he remained facing in one direction.

The Prince knew a bit about the myth that surrounded him, knowing only that his existence was greatly debated. What did these four think? Was he what they had imagined? Or perhaps details on his being had been greatly exaggerated. The thought was amusing, but that was for another time.

His mother, the Queen, had insisted he plan something out for introducing himself to the Royal Guards, but now that the Prince thought about it, he had completely ignored her. He had no clue how to begin or how to not embarrass himself in front of Clara, but that was really nothing new. He had almost no experience speaking before more than two people, but he knew he couldn't just stand there doing nothing.

"I... Thank you, on behalf of the Queen. I know that... some of you may have doubted my existence not too long ago, but I assure you that I am the heir to the throne of Bauk-Larat. Er... Heir apparent. Until the Ceremony, at least." Things were not going as well as the Prince had hoped, so he took a deep breath and decided to go slower. "I am Prince Orioch Trinsha, Lord of the Northern Plateau, Overseer of the Holy City Shrente, and firstborn of King Rolan Trinsha. It is by instruction of the Queen that you prepare me for the Ceremony, and watch over my well-being until your bond comes to an end."

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The man was odd to everyone who met him, but felt no sadness in the fact. Rather, he enjoyed the fact that others doubted him, for it meant there were more people to prove wrong. He had never quite fit in with Bauk-Larat, for while he had done his time in the army, the pride he felt for his city was little to none. To him, it was a utopia. It was all too good to be true.

And so, to escape the lie that was Bauk-Larat, he left. Bearing nothing but provisions and his own sword, he set off towards the most mysterious land in the world, which was the Erru Province. The myth that surrounded this place was incredible, but it was exactly what the man wanted. He yearned for truth, not the lies he felt he had been fed as a child.

As he entered the forests of the Province, the man felt something heavy begin to depress on his soul. He found it difficult to breathe the air, as if it was too rich and concentrated. He often found himself as if blinking awake, although he knew he had been walking for hours and had not nodded off. No sleep came at night, even though the man was exhausted. The strange flora and fauna here couldn't seem to lift the explorer's spirits, and only made him want to leave.

But the stubborn spirit of the man paid off. After days and days of walking without end, he came across massive pillars of stone that led him like trail markers to the pinnacle of his journey. Cresting the hill, he could see a village sprawled below, surrounded on three sides by tall cliffs and a waterfall. All at once, his eyes seemed to open for the first time, and he felt at peace. He wanted nothing more.

There was no struggle as a dart planted itself in the back of the man's skull, sending him jerking forward and over the edge of the cliff, plummetting into the water below. Several pairs of eyes peered after him as he fell, cold and stony in emotion.

The secret of the Wiita was safe.

~~

An ancient man was in the largest of the buildings, his legs crossed over each other and his back as straight as an arrow. His eyes were closed, and he didn't move a muscle as another man entered. He was younger than the other, but streaks of grey still stained his black hair. He offered a bow to the older man, who remained motionless.

"Greetings, Shara-Ren." The younger man spoke, a tinge of impatience staining his voice. "I wish to speak."

A chuckle left the older man, whose eyes opened to reveal a surprisingly icy blue against his chocolate skin. "So many times you have pledged allegiance to me, Talin, and yet you still doubt my judgement. That will be your downfall."

The younger man, suddenly breaking from his formality, snorted heavily and gazed in a different direction. "Do you honestly think those two are ready for something like this? They're good warriors, yes, but they were never trained for anything like this."

"Neither were any of us, and yet here we are. Sometimes, we must put our faith in the unlikely."

Talin's jaw clenched as he looked back at Shara-Ren, still not convinced in the slightest. "Unlikely, yes. If what they discover is really the one foretold-"

Shara-Ren glared at Talin, his look being enough to tell him to stop. "There is no certainty. But if the boy is what we fear, then I trust that they will know what to do. They would have already made it to the gates of Bauk-Larat, I think."

Talin looked down, muttering an apology under his breath. "Forgive me, Wise One. I am mistaken."

The old man closed his eyes once more, saying, "I know you greatly desire the title 'Shara'. I have seen it in your eyes. Your time may come; however, be prepared if another comes more worthy than you."

Talin bowed once more, then left, both embarrassed and confused. Who else would deserve the title "Shara"?

Abana Abana Nano Nano
 
Clara watched as the guards appeared and bowed before the Prince. She didn't nod or anything she just smiled at them still in her same spot and waited for the prince to speak. As he did she noticed the slight nervousness he had but she wasn't sure if the guards noticed. She looked at all the guards one by one and they seem quite experienced each of them having a different aura around them. Once the prince was done Clara spoke up. "I would also like to introduce myself. I am Clara the Prince's tutor. I am usually always around. But if I'm not and you ever need me you can find me in my room unless I have business to take care of." After she introduced herself she wondered if she should ask them to introduce themselves or if she should have him do it. Better have him do it. She thought to herself. Clara leaned in and whispered to the Prince and made sure it was low enough only for him to hear. "Go ahead and ask them to introduce themselves and make sure to closely listen to their voices so you can tell whose who." Clara was going to do it herself but he was the prince after all these were things he had to get use to. She then straighten herself back up and looked towards the guards wondering what they thought of her at the moment. Clara wondered if they thought it was strange to see her so familiar with the prince.
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