Pirate and the Prince

Unpublished.

Tags: #Fantasy, #Prince, #Royalty, #Pirate, #KingdomBuilding, #Action, #Comedy

____

SYNOPSIS:

What happens when a headstrong female pirate meets with a cloistered prince?

...

Agatha was an adorable princess-turned-pirate, running away with her father to experience the world.

Hugo was a cloistered prince trained to be cold, heartless, and ruthless. His kingdom fell and he aimed to get help from his father's old friend to retrieve his throne.

What if... he met a certain woman and suddenly he didn't want it anymore?

_____

...

____

PROLOGUE

[Plamure City

Zaul Dynasty, Year 459]

FLAP

FLAP

FLAP

The heavy sound of wings echoed across the clouds, so heavy that had they not been over dozens of kilometers above land, they would've been heard by the city below as terrifying bellows of thunder.

The massive wings pushed away nearby clouds, followed by a growl and a distinct sound of a flowing cape resonated with it.

"We're here," a masculine voice uttered, and it was followed by a loud roar as if answering him. It was, indeed, so loud that it reverberated against the clouds.

Slowly, the massive creature hovered in a circular motion, gradually descending into the clouds and past it, revealing the land below.

The man's sharp eyes continued watching the ground from above. The city's view from the sky was beautiful—the lights were on as if they were small fireflies juxtaposed against the soft dark ground, and feelings of nostalgia tugged him from within.

"Aiya. Long time no see, Plamure." He said, before lifting a hand up to hold his make-shift turban, a gesture that he'd be moving out.

"Ja, Thor."

He was answered, once again, by another roar.

They were close enough to the ground and the people below must be startled at the sudden 'thunder'. The man smirked.

And he jumped down his ride.

…

The trees rustled as the cool winds blew across the grounds of the country's bustling capitol. Scarves were particular hot sells that night. It was already the eleven in the evening, but many of the citizens were still awake. Rather, the night division—those who lived at night and were asleep at light—were being very active. But business was business, after all.

Various businesses flourished at night; some legal while some were not. The people who frequented to streets were different from those of the day. However, there was one element in the whole city that had been fixed for as long as anyone had been alive.

In the city's heart stood a large and imposing structure. It was made of white marble, blinding at light and imposing at night. Its spires taller on its own than any of their houses, seemingly as sharp as swords from below.

It was none other than the castle, the castle where the revered royals resided.

Indeed, the country was ruled by strong and strict monarchs, but not once was there a rebellion and thus the country flourished in its own right. Flourished in the sense that the economy bustled, by average, though the sharp mind would know that the lines were stark.

In any case the castle served as a parascopic structure, seeming to watch the citizen's every move. No one dared, nor even think about going against their rulers.

Tap

A striking man with an indisputably strong and firm aura stood by the balcony just outside his office. His arms crossed, long silver hair followed the strong wind, and sharp cerulean eyes surveying the population below.

His name was Atlas Cassein Zaul, the current King.

As he watched, he remained stern, almost stiff, albeit every movement made was so graceful one would know the man was ready to move any time he wished, and without anyone noticing had he wanted so.

His large hands unfolded and held the cold, marble, balustrade. The room was so high up that his still-awake subjects looked like ants, and like the creatures they never saw him watching them.

He narrowed his eyes and remembered the bellow of thunder he had heard earlier. Was it really thunder, he wondered, his instincts telling him something was coming.

His ears perked at a miniscule sound—suspicious but incredibly well-hidden, to the point that if he wasn't trained to have his guard up all the time, he probably would never have noticed this presence. This automatically made it highly dangerous and hostile; He increased his guard and quickly gestured for an attack.

"Whoa there, Cassein." The usual-serious man uncharacteristically paused at the sound. He could feel a rather amused stare looking at him, closely followed by a soft chuckle.

"As serious as always."

A rustle followed whatever a sound a smirk would have made if ever it did make a sound. A second later the owner of the voice was standing on the marble rails.

"Gael." He voiced out with his monotonous voice, and it barely showed the surprise he was feeling. Of course, this newcomer would see it, like he always did. "Since when have you returned?"

"In the city? I never really left, just travelled here and there."

"Is that so?"

"Yep. Just making sure I was out of your way."

"What changed that, then?" he said, sounding quite mocking.

"Nothing, really." Gael shrugged and jumped down the railing to the floor. "I just came back from Antikoba, a city in the Kuroko country. They're progressing well."

"I see." Atlas said and watched Gael as he nonchalantly entered his office, soon sitting on his sofa and made himself comfortable. Typical Gael.

"Ah~ Soft. This is nice considering I have been camping these past few weeks." He said, slumping down. "Must be nice to be King."

Atlas sighed, knowing full-well Gael was mocking him.

In the years they had known each other Gael was never lacking in expressing his dislike for his hereditary responsibilities. But Atlas... was never really the type to fool around. "What is your purpose here, old friend?"

As if on cue, Gael manoeuvred his body so that he was sitting properly—now wearing frown.

He suddenly wore that rare serious expression of his, but then he started scratching his ears with his littlest finger. Atlas mentally groaned at the fact that he'd probably be throwing his earwax randomly… again.

The newcomer stretched (after throwing his earwax at a random direction), and lifted his elbows and let it rest on his legs.

"Atlas." He stated, "Don't you think it's about time you change the country? Times are changing, it's about time the country does, too."

Atlas frowned deeper. How many times had they had this conversation before? It was one of the main reasons they grew apart, and the primary reason why Gael left the palace in the first place.

"Traditions are important, Gael. It is what keeps my country stable."

Gael stood up and walked towards him. "I disagree." Atlas wondered mentally what might have happened to suddenly make Gael be this aggressive with the issue so suddenly.

"The people's utter fear of the royals? For goodness sakes, Atlas! Some day they will turn on you." Gael paused, standing in front of him—as fearless as he always was. "I've seen these other countries, Atlas. Soon their influences will become strong enough, their citizens courageous enough, that their beliefs will reach your borders. It is just a matter of time."

Atlas looked down at him. "Is that so? Then do you think so little of our influence that outsider's beliefs will take over my people's minds?"

"You don't even go outside your palace. The people believe stepping on the steps you go pass through are too divine—too dangerous for 'normal' people like them to walk in." Gael stared. "Doesn't that say anything?"

"It says how much my people revere me and my family—they worship us. People do not turn against their gods."

"Atlas!"

But Gael realized he raised his voice a little too late. Atlas's aura already darkened. "You do not shout at your king, Gael!" But, Gael would never back down. Not like this. And not with his current 'circumstance'.

"I wouldn't if I didn't have to—what else could I do to pound some reason onto your close-minded little head?!"

"Gael." He heaved a heavy sigh. "Get out of my castle. Now."

Gael looked straight at him. "Make me."

Atlas froze, and so did Gael. They stared at each other for a long, awkward, silence, and soon the nearby objects started vibrating—as if invisible, and yet extremely strong, waves were incessantly hitting them.

The atmosphere changed—so heavy that some of the accessories within the room started dropping down on the floor. Crashes of vitreous items and the thumps of books soon resounded across the room. They ignored the commotion they were then hearing outside, and the desperate knocks and attempts to open it. They couldn't of course, the supernatural wave the two men emitted were too strong.

"Perhaps it is time to settle this once and for all."

Gael nodded, concentration filling his auburn orbs. "Perhaps it is."

And then there was a burst of light, a small earthquake, and soon the birds slumbering a mile away were perturbed in their sleep.

Gael's turban went loose, revealing his black greenish hair that flowed along with the intangible wave of force he was emitting. Atlas's long silver hair did the same. The two men adopted their respective positions—signalling they were ready for the attack.

And that, they did. And no longer with reluctance in their eyes.

And finally a battle—the battle they had been delaying for all these years—had finally begun.

BAM!

.

.

No one would lose their life that night, but a lot would change for them…

…and for their children.