3 Voyage of Vows

The following days were a litany of preparations, whispered consultations, and frantic flurry of activities. The castle was buzzing with the news of my imminent wedding to Princess Marcella of the Kingdom of Havenby, a powerful merchant kingdom on the continent of Viridium.

This alliance wasn't meant for me to gain anything; it was for my father, the king, to strengthen his position. I was simply an expendable pawn. All I could really do was hope that my journey out of the Vienerstien Kingdom would allow me to further my skills, maybe even escape the stifling restrictions that had been placed on me. 

My only worry was the princess. From what I heard, Father actually cut the head of the man she was supposed to marry just a week previous to this. He was the first son of the neighboring kingdom of Bossprinz, and this brutal action was a clear provocation that could easily ignite a war between the two kingdoms. Not that father cared. He was in constant strife with both the Bossprinz and Jagar kingdoms, but taking the head of a royal heir had escalated the tensions to a dangerous level. It was no wonder that I, the disappointing craftsman, was being sent away. 

Truthfully, I was excited to get out of this shit hole, and especially if a war was about to break out. I was getting tired of living this stuffy noble life that had been forced on me. I had been playing the part, but it was hard to keep my eight year old act together. My life had been secluded to the walls of our castle, and I hadn't even been able to sneak into town once.

Not for lack of trying, but my father's guards were annoyingly good at their jobs. I had assume because this was some fantasy world that the guards would be lax like in the novels, but fuck no, these mofo's were like secret service level boss room guards that probably took turns blinking. 

So, today was kind of special, even if I was just getting shipped off. This would be my first time seeing a town of this world, but my excitement and expectations were smashed into the ground.

"Is this really one of the villages in my fathers kingdom?" I asked Marcus, the single guard sent to escort me.

The big knight just glared at me, so I went back to looking at the horrible site outside, but it just made no sense. The building all looked run down, and the people were clothed in rags and no better off than the place they lived. How could my father treat his own people like this when we lived so damn well?

I was no fucking saint, but hot damn this was just messed up.

"Peasants are peasants. Be glad that you weren't tossed to this fishing village, or you would be living the same," Marcus growled without looking at me as the wagon kept moving toward the docks in the distance.

Since the brute was talking, I thought that I might try to press him for more. "Do all these people have classes like us?"

"Bwahahaha! Stop the dam wagon, Greg! Let's give this runt a quick lesson!"

The wagon stopped, and before I knew it, Marcus jumped out of the wagon wearing a full suit of plate armor like it was nothing. Then I was pulled from the wagon and tossed on the ground.

"Tell this runt if you have a class," Marcus growled as he ripped me up off the ground by my hair to face an emaciated man who looked terrified. 

The man glanced at me, fear evident in his eyes. He then looked pointedly at Marcus, and stammered, "Cl...cl...class, sir?... I...I don't have a...a class...we...we have no right for a class."

Marcus laughed, a belly full of chortles that echoed around the desolate area. Throwing me back into the wagon, we took off, and I kept my mouth shut for the rest of the ride. Only my mouth. My eyes burned that SOB's face into my mind. I would not forget this bastard, and I would replay him and the rest of the guards that had beaten me. Fuckers.

It took us twenty more minutes to reach the harbor. Amidonia was an island kingdom, located somewhere in the vast Mezzaluna Sea, off the coast of Viridium. A small ship with the grand flag of Havenby, a silver griffon adorned on a sea green background, was waiting patiently at the harbor. 

The ship was surprisingly large considering it was meant to transport a single person, but I suppose they took the term 'royal transport' quite seriously. Marcus practically tossed me onto the ship, grinning malevolently. I stumbled, catching myself just in time to prevent a premature introduction to the ship's wooden deck. 

As I regained my balance, a tall man with striking features, presumably the ship's captain, glanced at Marcus. He gave the bully of a guard a disdainful look before turning to regard me with a neutral expression. When our eyes met, he dipped his head respectfully. 

"Your Highness, welcome aboard the 'Stella Maris'," he greeted, his voice smooth as silk. "I am Captain Gaius Laurentius, at your service."

The man's words and attitude were like a soothing balm to my bruised ego, but it also stung to hear. I was only royalty in name, a disappointment in the eyes of my family. But here, in this stranger's presence, I was treated as a Prince, an equal.

He extended a hand towards the magnificent ship. "Please, follow me. Let's get you settled."

As the ship sailed away from the harbor, I caught a final glimpse of the Vienerstien Kingdom. 

"Goodbye, Father," I mumbled to myself, my voice barely audible over the crashing waves. From now onwards, my journey as Gideon was going to start in full stride. The Vienerstien Kingdom slowly faded into the distance, but my determination only grew.

I wouldn't just survive as a pawn in my father's game. I was going to thrive, and use this chance to prove everyone wrong, I vow. I would prepare the proper pimp hand for my return and teach these mother fuckers what the five fingers said the the face!

"Wait for it," I mumbled, clutching the pendant of Velemir tightly, the deity of crafts. This was my silent oath, to myself and to Velemir. Wait for me, Father, because I will return one day. 

On board the ship, now amidst the sea, a new fire lit inside of me. Not one from anger, gods knew I had enough of that, but out of determination and the raw desire to raise a proper pimp hand for some face slapping. My new journey had begun.