2 The Prince Who Was Not a Prince

There was a rumor that spread throughout the twelve kingdoms of the East about a new uprising.

It was no surprise after three centuries of peace that stories concerning rebellion would entice new generations. In a way, peace began to bore the Children of the Now. Or rather, they may have perceived that the peace saturating the world is but a false promise of security.

The twelve kingdoms–the nations that make up the land of Garuda– believed that the fey bestowed gifts upon a select few through the centuries. Champions, as the old-fashioned folk would call them, to whom the fey heeded every beck and call. The scholars who studied runes and magic though preferred to call these people the Begotten of Maya. They were named so because these 'champions' were descended from Maya, the last elf princess, and were conceived on the first day of the turn of the seasons. The day when the strength of the children of Terra, the spirits of nature, were at their strongest.

They said that the rebellion was brought upon one of these champions.

The rumor pertained to one of these begotten: a prince, born on the twilight of the first day of the month of Ceres. He was a boy no older than fourteen years, who held the strength of a wolf and the wit of a fox. The stories claimed that he waged war against the world, a war of a different kind as some bards were fond of singing about. They sang about a young man who refused power, who shunned authority over all men, who frowned upon the throne most coveted by all the princes of the East.

It was because of his refusal that the world was angered, and his rebellion prompted fate to force the crown upon his head.

The boy's name was Qionne, the Prince of Elfeinne, blessed of Artemis, and the Son of the Moon.

The prince who did not want to be a prince.

The last time Qionne was spotted in his own city had been several months ago.

...

"Of twenty-two tales of long ago, the lady of the lake sang the psalm, of the sword of the King that stood on a stone and the prince who claimed, was not a prince."

Ancient Arcadian Prophecy

...

Within the outskirts of Basilinne, there traveled a boy from the darkness of the woods. He donned a rough olive-green cloak, a bow slung over his shoulders and a quiver of arrows attached to his belt. From the shadows, one could barely recognize the lad's face, save the smile that meant he was up to no good.

The sun had long since descended into the horizon, the moon and stars the only lights to guide him on his journey. His leather-skinned boots trudged against the damp ground, his steps leading him to a crescent clearing. The glade framed a lake that shimmered like liquid crystal in the darkness of night. At the center of the lake was a stone, shaped almost like an altar that sheathed a sword that looked more ancient than the stone itself.

The young man's footsteps halted as he happened upon a creature as haunting as the waters itself.

"I am Robin Hood," the boy announced, his voice a perfect mix of deep and boyish, with a slight huskiness that came in the wake of pubescence. "According to my sources, you're the centaur messing around the sanctuaries of Delphine. Fourteen young oracles in training disappeared while another three claim you stole their innocence. Is that true?"

The lad addressed a terrible figure guarding the lake. It was a centaur whom they called the River Guardian, whose lower body was drenched both in water and darkness. Its eyes shimmered an electric blue, and its teeth curled into a natural snarl. The hair that covered its head fell upon its shoulders like a curtain of seaweed, and its big burly arms were marred by decorative scars of ancient tongue. There had been rumors that the creature was once a man who fell victim to a kelpie's lure.

"I do not give a damn who you are," the centaur growled. "Leave this place immediately!"

"I always thought centaurs were meek and polite creatures–well, despite being such a pain in the neck–but I never thought one could curse like a sailor! Tsk, tsk!" the boy replied, shaking his head from side to side. He cocked his head to the side, watching the sword in the stone with mock curiosity. "Oh, and what do you have there? Is that the famed Rune Saber?"

The creature poised itself to attack, but the boy claiming to be Robin Hood stood unfazed by its ferocity. An eerie blue power crackled at its hooves, making the creature look more sinister than it already was.

"Leave this place immediately!" the centaur roared again. The boy still stood his ground.

"Afraid I can't." The boy grinned cheekily. "I can't let a peeping tom get away with his crimes. I made a promise to this cute little priestess you see and..."

He wasn't given the time to finish his quip as the centaur charged. A mist-like hammer formed around its fist to strike its enemy.

As the hammer hit the meadow with a loud thunder, sounds of cracking earth and rock and fleeing magical birds and creatures echoed through the forest. The ground shook a second later, and the boy felt a ringing sound in his ears. To the creature's surprise, the boy had miraculously dodged his swift attack.

"Whoa! That was surprising." He raised his brows, clearly not surprised at all. "And that was rude! I was talking here!"

But the centaur paid him no heed, considering his jolly commentary as taunts. It continued swinging its hammer-fist at him, to which he gracefully dodged.

Soon the centaur was able to grab hold of his cloak, but the boy skillfully took off the garment the moment the centaur caught it. A long set of pony-tailed pink hair flowed like silk in the air as he turned to face the half-man, half horse. Striking blue eyes, as blue as the Merillan Lake looked up to greet the beastly enemy, while a handsome pair of lips grinned.

The young man groped for his bow, then shot an arrow straight at the centaur's heart in mere seconds. The creature grabbed hold of whatever stabbed it and tore the arrow away from his flesh.

The wound sealed up immediately to Robin Hood's surprise, and it continued to attack him with multiple swings of its hammer.

"I knew it!" the boy cheered as he somersaulted safely to the ground. "You are Caiaphas the Cursed One! This is jackpot!"

"You should tremble at my name boy," the centaur threatened menacingly. Its natural snarl formed into a vicious smirk, impressed by the young man's courage and skill. "Though I would have to admit that I have never fought anyone with such agility. Who are you?"

The boy grinned at him, slinging his bow once again over his shoulders. "I already told you, silly horse. My name is Robin Hood!"

"Do not make fun of me!" answered the centaur snidely. "Tell me your name or else I will not give you the mercy of a swift death!"

Robin Hood frowned. "I don't lie about my name..." the boy pinched his chin in thought, "although I don't tell the truth about my name all the same. I thought Robin would be a fitting second name since I am not so fond of the first one."

The centaur tried to strike him again, its patience waning. "Enough of your babble! Now you die!"

"Alright! Alright!" Robin Hood replied in annoyance, barely dodging the creature's latest attack. "If it's my birth name you want, then it's..."

But the centaur did not let him finish as it finally managed to strike Robin Hood. The impact sent him flying straight toward the center of the Lake, near the stone where the eerie sword was pierced. The lad emerged from the surface coughing and spluttering blood and water. His teasing demeanor turned sour, jumping off the lake as he pulled out a large blue crystal from his pouch.

"Awaken! Galahad of the Holy Flames!" he cried, throwing the sapphire gem to the skies.

Power surged from the crystal until it morphed into a magnificent white phoenix. Its cry echoed through the forest, both beautiful and painful to the ears. Feathers gleamed brightly like the rays of the sun at dawn, while eyes opened to reveal orbs of hot fire and blood. White and yellow colored magia flowed all over the boy and the legendary bird in streams of light. A resonance of white flames crackled through the meadows, and the stillness of the quiet lake became a symphony of angry waves.

The mischievous fairies clapped their hands in glee, singing high pitched choruses of a prelude to battle. The nearby creatures fled and sought refuge within the darker depths of the forest, passing through the trees like wandering spirits. The sky darkened, then grew alight, the clouds making way as if to honor the presence of the bird risen from the ashes.

The bird charged like an arrow against the centaur. Wind gushed away from the impact, multiple traces of Galahad's magic slicing, slashing, stabbing, and chopping through Caiaphas. Cries of anguish and pain echoed from the beast as it struggled to maintain its stance in battle. Galahad, aided by the boy's magic, was far too strong an opponent for even a beast of the centaur's caliber.

The boy charged after the centaur, leaping high and aiming three arrows which glowed brightly against the darkness.

He released the arrows, multiplying into tenths of white flames. They shot through the beast as

swiftly as lightning strikes the earth, and it was all it took for the mighty creature's strength to fall.

The powerful Caiaphas the Cursed One lay on the meadows, defeated by a boy of fourteen years. It trembled before him as the phoenix circled around his master, transforming back into a blue crystal with two silk scarves at the sides, symbolizing the wings that had once been there. The crystal perched on the boy's shoulders as the boy looked at the fallen beast with an unreadable expression.

"Since you asked," the boy approached the beast, his steps almost as quiet as a lion walking towards its fallen enemy, "my name is Qionne Il Eifhendorr, son of the late King Phoebus of Elfeinnhime, first of his name and the Emperor of the Realm of Garuda!"

Qionne drew his arrow, the aim toward its heart. He held his breath, ready to put an end to the creature when it spoke.

"Before you kill me," Caiaphas panted, "I want you to do me a favor."

The boy squinted his eyes suspiciously. "Why should I? I know of your reputation for playing tricks on travelers and wanderers, Caiaphas," Qionne said gruffly, his voice sounding deeper instead of boyish.

"Listen," Caiaphas pleaded tiredly. "I am well aware that my soul is bound to an eternity of damnation. But I will not cease to exist unless you take that sword from the stone!"

Qionne refused to turn his gaze away from the dying centaur. He only looked at the sword from the corner of his eye. "You lie," he accused.

"No. It's true. I was cursed by Neo's King, and guarding that sword is a fate worse than death!" it growled, almost pitifully. "If you take it, I shall be released from my curse, and to sleep shall I go."

"I don't believe you," Qionne sneered, eyes narrowing into slits, his arms ready to release the arrow any moment.

"Then I shall live to cause terror for the years to come, and I shall take my revenge upon you... and all your children."

Qionne withdrew his aim and retrieved his weapons, turning his back on the centaur as he walked away. "I still don't believe you," he said. "Even if I don't kill you by my hand, decay will catch up to you. You'll only suffer a slow and pitiful death."

Qionne flinched in warning as the centaur abruptly rose on its feet, successfully hitting Qionne with its fist. Qionne flew straight back to the center of the Lake, crashing hard against the stone where the Rune Saber stood. The centaur charged, looking even more powerful than before.

Qionne lost his set of arrows and broke his bow on impact. He cringed in pain, realizing that he had underestimated his opponent. He was yet too weak to summon Galahad, eyes wildly scanning for anything that could substitute as a weapon.

Qionne's eyes fell on the ancient weapon before him. Frantically, he tried to pull the sword from the stone, but even with all his power and strength, it didn't work.

The centaur let out a maniacal laugh. "It is no use! Only he who has the blood of Neo can pull that sword out! Now die!"

Qionne glared at him bravely, clutching the sword in a vice grip. Its blade began glowing a faint white light.

"I tell you what, you damned horse!" Qionne yelled at the charging centaur. "I serve Neo's King!"

Qionne drew the sword out and met its opponent, piercing all the way through its heart while the centaur charged. Light flashed and a thunder-like sound emanated as the water ebbed away from the sword's wielder. Quick as the blink of an eye, the water fell like mist just as the centaur disintegrated into nothingness.

Qionne panted as strokes of rainbow colored lights flowed in streams through his skin and the sword he wielded. Feeling tired and disoriented, he fell upon the water with a splash. In his daze, he didn't notice the water fairies that once hid within the lake in fear of the evil creature lifting him up and bringing him to dry ground. They gingerly placed the sword upon his chest, floating back as more spirits crowded around him.

The way the boy lay in the meadows half-still made him look like a dead king.

... ... ...

The prince woke at dawn, water spluttering out of his mouth. He felt a throbbing in his temples and cringed at the steely weight of the sword over his chest. Wrapping his knuckles around the handle, he weakly held the sword up to inspect it while he still lay on the ground. The once ancient looking blade appeared brand new, the gems on its hilt winking at him. He also noted that the once corroded metal now looked like engraved steel that was polished to the tip.

He let out a long and tired sigh, "I can't believe I had to go through all that just to find you, Caliburn."

The boy stood, using the Saber to aide him up. Galahad's scarf form cloaked him, providing him warmth. He sighed at the remnants of his bow and arrows and limped towards the pile of cloth that used to be his cloak. He took the cloak–now a piece of battle-torn rags–and presented it to the gem.

"Manageable?" he asked the blue crystal on his shoulder.

The crystal flashed a soft blue light indicating the phoenix's approval. Qionne patted off the dust and dirt from the hood and wore it over his head. The cloak managed to cover him just a little below his waist.

He knelt beside the lake and washed off the blood from his bruises. In the comfortable silence of the woods, Qionne found himself smiling in satisfaction at what he had accomplished.

"I can't believe it Galahad!" he said, awe coloring his features. "We found a Bewitched Artifact! I think we're getting closer to Arcadia!"

The crystal flashed a faint yellow.

"Well, I think it did belong to Neo. Didn't you see how it killed that centaur? I didn't think we would be able to kill Caiaphas that easily."

The crystal flashed an angry red.

"I know, I know. I know you told me not to face Caiaphas, and I know that I would have been killed. But the oracles and priestesses really needed the help, Galahad. It's not like me to turn down a favor, you know that."

The crystal continued glowing red.

Qionne sighed, responding to the gem with a practiced reply. "Yes, of course, because it's a quest. C'mon you used to be very supportive. I'm not a baby anymore! I'm like fourteen already! And whether you come with me or not, I am going to Arcadia! I want to see where Neo Arcadians live.

And yes, I do believe they still exist!"

Pinkish light emanated from the phoenix crystal, wrapping around the prince. The light appeared to have sped up the healing of his wounds.

"That took a while," he said, inspecting the freshly treated scars all over his arms. "And since you asked for it, and as much as I hate to, we're going home, for now. Eventually, I will go to Arcadia, with or without you. And since you've been bound by ancient law to be my glorified baby sitter, you will still accompany me whether we both like it or not."

He turned to pick up the sword he pierced on the ground, contemplating on returning the weapon back to its stone sheath.

Suddenly light emanated from the sword. It enveloped Qionne for a while, until it hovered over the lake in an unhurried pace.

"Woah!"

The light's glow steadily brightened, first a soft delicate beam gradually building in intensity. A figure in the light appeared, almost the form of a male child less than Qionne's age. Soon it became too bright for the young archer to make out the countenance of the boy's face, nor the color of his eyes. The figure's presence was far too blinding that Qionne had been forced to his knees, cocooning his hooded head with his arms, forgetting the saber that clattered to the ground. Even as he pressed his eyes shut, the light seemed to have seeped into his lids.

"Qionne."

The sound was too ancient and deep to belong to a boy, but somehow Qionne knew that the voice belonged to the figure in the light. The earth somehow shook when the voice uttered his name, and inexplicably, Qionne could not force himself to look nor stand.

"Who are you?!" the archer asked him, meanwhile fighting the tremble in his voice.

The child–man (at this point Qionne could not fathom)-spoke again.

"I am Eli, the Firstborn, the King of Genesis, the Lord of Terra," the voice said.

Qionne's face paled. It may have been the light itself, or the blood in his body may have turned cold, but whatever the reason, Qionne knew he might have looked like he had seen a ghost after hearing the voice's name.

The name was a forbidden name. Qionne thought in the back of his mind. The mere mention of such a name was a tainting of the name itself.

"For Eli was the name of a hero; it was the name of the most revered, the most powerful, the most courageous, the most royal, and to claim the title for himself was considered a crime worthy of death. "

He could practically hear Frei's voice as he remembered the verse from the Arcane Histories. Qionne knew this, and yet how this boy or man had said the name with such conviction made Qionne believe him.

"What do you want from me?" Qionne asked, and before forgetting he was speaking with a once powerful ruler added, "my King?"

To Qionne's surprise, the voice chuckled, almost sounding child-like.

"You know your histories, child. You and I both know that I am no longer king. The time of Genesis has passed, and new kings and lords have taken over the Children of the Now."

"T-then... how shall I address you... my Lord?"

There was a pause. If Qionne didn't feel the warmth of the blinding glow still alight, he would have been tempted to look.

"I'm no Lord..." the voice said ruefully. "At least not to you men," he added with sadness and disappointment. "Yet the spirits of this land still call me their Lord and King."

Qionne bit his lip, choosing his next words carefully."How then do you want me to call you, sir?"

Again, there it was, the laughter that almost sounded like a child.

"Lift your head, prince of Garuda," a child's voice commanded him.

The archer followed, surprised to find that only the brightness of the morning sun peeking through the horizon was the only light present. Where the white glow once hovered was a child, looking a little younger than Qionne, walking across the waters unto dry land.

He had milky brown curls, soft tawny eyes that crinkled when he smiled, and teeth like rows of ivory stone. A light dusting of freckles decorated his cheeks, while a curious tiny mole, almost unnoticeable in its size, was placed a little to the corner of his bottom lip. The boy was clothed in rags similar to burlap sacks used for fruits and vegetables. His feet were bare, save small cakes of dried mud dotted across his tan skin. In spite of his ragged clothes, his dirty feet, and his calloused little hands, the child stood with a presence that was both kingly and ethereal.

The lad who called himself Robin was lost for words. The boy before him was nowhere near how Eli was described in the histories of kings. Yet with the magic he witnessed, as well as the air of royalty about the child's presence left no doubt about his identity.

Qionne was standing before the first king of men, and the father of Arcadia.

He had not realized that his mouth was gaping like a fish within the last few minutes. If not for the chuckle that left the child's lips, Qionne would have stood frozen in amazement forever. The prince dropped to his knees out of fear and reverence, as if a god was standing in his midst.

"My King, Lord-er-sir." Qionne stammered.

"I thought we established that I'm no longer king, nor am I a lord," Eli said. "And the title of sir is for knights and soldiers. Today I am simply Eli to you, and hopefully, when the time comes, your predecessor, when you take your place in the Land of Arcadia."

"I don't understand," Qionne said, still unsettled by the turn of events. "How could you be alive? And what could someone as great as you want from me?"

Eli regarded him with a covert smile.

"Hope," the child answered simply. "What I want from you is hope."

"I still don't get it," Qionne admitted, losing formality as his patience ran thin.

The child grinned, pleased with Qionne's candidness. "You will know what I want in time. You may not know what I want from you, but I know what your heart's desire is."

"My heart's desire?" Qionne wondered. He contemplated the boy's words and was taken back to years ago. The memory of The Sun and shattered glass flashed before his eyes, prompting his right hand to clutch the area where his heart was. Memories of a boy who was a mirror of himself danced in his mind until they faded back to the image of the present.

"Arcadia," Qionne confirmed, more to himself than to the boy. "I want to go there and fulfill my brother's wish."

The boy regarded him with a wise smile.

"If you will carry out the tasks I give you, I will grant you your heart's desire," Eli promised, a cryptic impression in the way he carried out his vow. "And the first one I give you is to keep my servant's sword. Guard it with your life, and use it for my glory."

The child's face turned grim as he continued.

"There are those who seek to destroy it, for it gives true power to those who deserve to rule. In this time of the Moirai, there are many who are seated in thrones that do not belong to them." He turned his gaze to the west, his mind exploring a memory from the distant past. "Many of my people suffered under kings who were not kings. I do not wish the same for this land."

"You can count on me, Eli," Qionne declared, his fist softly punching the area close to his heart. "I'll guard Neo's sword with my life."

"Good," Eli replied with a satisfied hum. "Though I would prefer you use it for my glory instead."

The archer chuckled uneasily, awkwardly rising to his feet as he picked up the sword he had carelessly cast aside. As the morning sun rose, Qionne began to notice strange symbols on the blade. It appeared to be an unfamiliar language, something foreign and forgotten. The question in Qionne's eyes wasn't lost on Eli.

"Those are the words of Eli, engraved by my servant Neo," he said. "It cannot be spoken by one who is not of Arcadia, but I will show you its meaning in the common tongue." Eli gestured to a ray peeking from an ash tree to their East. "Let the faint sunlight shine on it, and the sylphs of the Merillian Lake will let you see."

Qionne did as told, holding up the sword while the morning light pushed the shadows of the night. As the rays that peeked from the ash tree's leaves kissed the sword's blade, words made of air danced before his sight. His eyes went wide with awe, briefly casting a furtive glance at the child who called himself Eli. But he was no longer there.

Suddenly, the wounds from Qionne's previous battle became evident, along with other wounds he had acquired from previous trials. But then they were instantly healed as he gazed up, with tears streaming down his face.

The words he saw was a promise.

Qionne sheathed the sword through his belt as light swirled around the Saber, forming a scabbard made of strong leather.

"Galahad," he said. "Arcadia would have to wait. There's something Eli wants us to do."

Then he departed, walking back towards the thicket as he continued on his journey. As if by some mysterious spell, Qionne forgot the memory of the mysterious image in the lights seconds after he left the meadows.