The Young Prince
The young prince sat atop his horse, overlooking the vast world that lay beyond his domain. There was a twinkle in his eyes as he thought of claiming dominion over the world. A herd of aurochs ran unhindered through the tall grass, along with wild horses and deer, and birds of every color flew by. The wind blew hurried and the feathers on his hat whistled. He pushed down the hat on his head with one hand and held the reins with the other.
A lightly armored cavalryman strode beside him. "Milord, we should head back. The barbarians will sooner or later catch wind of our presence here."
The young prince rolled his eyes. "Captain, you should keep calm, the barbarians won't touch me. They wouldn't dare." The last words were spat in derision, at odds with the youthful exuberance a thirteen-year-old should have.
The captain looked uneasy, the grip around his reins tightening. They only brought in a small troop of ten mounted swordsmen, untrained in the art of mounted combat and hardly a threat to barbarian raiders who lived on horseback. "It is better to be safe, milord."
The young prince sighed, pulling his horse to turn though it loathed him to do so. "Very well." He quickly trotted down the hill where the rest of his troops waited, and the grass stood tall.
They were in the western border of the Archduchy, a hilly region filled with seas of grass where the reach of the crown was at its weakest. The captain had once been a soldier during the previous Archduke's conquests of the western fronts, so he knew keenly of the dangers around these parts. This was one reason among many why he was chosen to escort the young prince. He looked at the back of the boy who would one day be Archduke; there were rumors of the boy's ruthlessness and decisiveness, his drive and ambition. At a young age, he would always be the one to seek out his tutors and devoured voraciously their knowledge.
"Captain," the young prince spoke. "How frequent do the barbarians attack the borders?"
The captain gently pulled, slowing down his horse's canter so he could trot side-by-side with the young prince. "They raid the outposts once or twice a week, milord. They usually do so by taking advantage of the grass and initiating hit-and-run tactics, stealing supplies in between the pushing and the pulling."
"Do you think a concentrated effort to bring them to heel an easy task?"
The captain's face grew grim, and he shook his head. "The savages have dark magic and they are quite suited to the heat and the grass. A deliberate war with them would stretch out for many years."
The young prince nodded and kept quiet. The mounted swordsmen held up formation around him, cutting away at the blades of grass. Only the buzz of insects wafted in the wind, and the faint smell of the hot soil. A beast howled and the swordsmen drew their formation tighter. Then—
An arrow flew past and placed itself in the young prince's right shoulder. The force pushed him off his horse, and he bled all over the ground. His vision blurred, blackening. The last thing he heard was the captain's cries of ambush and the singing of swords being drawn out.
<>
Ever since the young prince returned with a broken hand and three badly beaten soldiers, his standing in the court and the eyes of his royal father had sunk. It did not help that on the ride back home, he was struck on the head and had his mental acumen greatly diminished. The Young Serpent had become the Crippled Worm. And four years later, he drank from a poisoned cup and fell unconscious on the floor of his bedroom.
But as the life slowly ebbed away, a wandering soul from another universe attached itself to the crumbling soul of the Young Serpent. And a voice boomed inside his head as he lay on the ground.
[Otherworld spirit detected…]
[Purge initiated…]
[Unable to eliminate otherworld spirit…]
[Karmic entanglement detected…]
[Karmic severing initiated…]
[Unable to severe karmic entanglement…]
[Preparing to reboot system…]
[Reboot commencing…]
[…3]
[…2]
[…1]