A clear sky of blue filled with the chirps of young, round-bellied birds marked today as a typical spring day for Genesis. Though unrest has been made among the kingdoms, nature remained in balance and at peace, detached from the influences of humanoids. Flowers and greenery across the land remained in bloom, filled with color and life, their heads turned towards the Sun. In the distance, lying within the backdrop of Gabriel were slate-colored clouds, slowly moving by throughout the day's hours. A breeze would roll by at one moment, then another, but the wind would remain quiet for the time of day. Peace had become a blanket effect across nature, but this could not be said for all of Genesis...
The large ivory doors were slammed shut behind him, followed by a frustrated kick there after. He had stormed to his bed to toss his fists against the mattress, punching into it with all his anger and annoyance. He grumbled, he growled, and he tossed himself onto his bed when he finally felt like giving up. It's just not fair -- it just isn't fair! Of all people who could go to such an important, fateful meeting, it would be his brother Tristan -- the name that made him kick his feet against his bedpost in anger. Tristan -- seriously? Did his father not see how he acted? Kylian thought everyone could read it on his face when his father came down for breakfast and insisted that Tristan would go -- did, did everyone see the look on his face? How "enthused" he was -- how basic and dull he was! It was so plain and easy to read, but the only replies given were those of encouragement and enthusiasm, as if this was the greatest idea ever invented since the blade! Kylian cursed to himself, rolling over to his side before releasing all his scream-worthy words in a sigh.
Maybe he was just being jealous again. That's how his mother reasoned his feelings, right? But no, he would not settle in calling it jealousy -- perhaps over-protectiveness. Yes, that's right, because he knew how his brother felt about his birth-given right to rule a kingdom, to take responsibility of a whole kingdom. Kylian knew that the thought of it didn't interest him, and if it doesn't interest him today, and if it doesn't ever interest him, then why would father continue shoving this ruler-ship stuff down his throat? In fact, why hasn't their father figured out, given up, and just prepare the throne for Kylian? Tristan would bring trouble with his lack of want and honest willingness. A ruler who doesn't want to rule made Kylian uneasy and sick, disgusted with the fear and thought of all sorts of "what-if" scenarios. Poor ruling, unsolved issues -- all that is left to make it worst is the fear of loss, and thus, tyranny! Kylian pulled himself up from his bed, turning his head to look at the golden mirror before him...
Sure, Kylian was the youngest, but he was positive that his age would not matter in ruling. He, for one, believed he would make for a better king than his brother, and furthermore a better king than his father! Also, why did age matter? Have they not looked at the other passed kings from not only their kingdom's history, but others? Sure, yeah, there have been some terribly young rulers, but there have been good ones too, right? His mother insisted that he would rule one day, but the one day Kylian saw would be when Tristan dies off! That, or he ends up screwing up bad enough that he is over-thrown... But if Kylian isn't leading the rebellion, a fool would be placed in Tristan's spot, and then the throne will never be his! If he's lucky, Tristan would just pass the throne over to Kylian when he gets it, right? He could only hope, but he's sure that their father has convinced his brother from doing otherwise. Of course, because apparently Kylian is "hot-headed", "childish", and "needs to improve battle tactics" -- Kylian shook his head. He couldn't agree to these statements, and when he asked his mother about such, she simply says that he is a fine lass that will rule one day, over time... The same old thing she always says.
He had to remain relaxed though. If he wanted to prove many people wrong, to show that he would be a better ruler than his brother, he would have to keep his posture and appear to be the good, loving, gentle son he is. The one who cares for his ill mother, watches over the kingdom while his father and brother are out doing real kingdom stuff, and to not leave the palace grounds... Pathetic, right? He can't be the only one thinking all of this was silly. He wasn't even sure why his father was going to this sudden Round Table meeting... Wouldn't he be the last face Michael would ever want to see?
His thoughts were interrupted by two knocks on his door. Kylian moved his hands to his chin, resting his elbows on his knees, and after another tense-heavy sigh was released, he grudgingly invited the person in. A man in shining armor -- fantastic -- walked in, his blue eyes empty of happiness, but appeared to be focused and determined. He wore his dark hair in a ponytail, a high one, with the front part of his hair ruffled in some untamed, scrambled style... Kylian would like to describe him as distressed but refused to due to any possible offense that would be made... But yet, who wouldn't be in distressed today?
"Prince Kylian, the second son of King Juli --"
"Yeah, yeah," Kylian rolled his eyes. The man was quick to understand that the wave of the prince's hand dismissed the formality of their conversation.
"Kylian," the warrior restated with a tinge of annoyance, "You're lessons will continue as of any normal day. According to your mother, you must be reminded of this."
"I know, I know... Was that all you were sent in for?"
"And to check on you."
"I'm alright," Kylian voice snapped at the man... Wait, didn't he just tell himself to he would prove to be a better ruler? Right. He looked down at the man's feet, then back up to him. It was only now he remembered the warrior's name. How rude of Kylian... "Sorry Lance. I'll be out in a few."
Lance shook his head, but didn't say word. He proceeded to leave the room, but as he placed his hand on the handle, Kylian had made his way to the other side of the room and inquired: "Hey Lance?"
"Yes, Kylian?"
"Who else is going with Tristan?"
"Other than your father, it has remain undecided," Lance responded. "There have been many recommendations of bringing of guardian along, especially for your father, but I have not heard word on who."
"Right, of course," Kylian grumbled. "Carry on." As the prince made his way to his closet, Lance remained still for a moment, waiting for the boy to make one more nudged-in request. Yet, he didn't say anything. Lance left quietly from the room in hopes he would not be called out again for one more inquiry or complaint. He was no stranger to the prince's long-winded protests about the kingdom and his brother and his curtains and his servants...
Lance still could not believe that a man older than him would still be considered a boy at his age. He wasn't so sure what was wrong with Kylian, but could think of many things that may be wrong with him. Perhaps him being raised within castle walls have not helped him in maturing or his lack of experience with life, or maybe he has been spoiled with gifts to keep him hushed during tantrums. He wasn't very sure and nor did he really have a say-so. Perhaps if he had a higher ranking, say, a knight, he might have been listened to, but would any parent wish to hear how terrible their child truly is? It wasn't Lance's concern anyhow. His primary objective according to the kingdom remains in being a pawn for battle. Beyond that purpose, he had his own life, his own wishes, wants, and dreams. It should be a given that he would have his own wants beyond what is best for the kingdom and his survival, but it was people like Kylian that made him doubt whether or not people actually realized this.
On a lighter note, he would not have to deal with him. For the moment being, Lance would be stationed as the queen's guard, unless he would be ordered to guard the king and his son for the Round Table trip. Queen Gertrude was a far kinder lady than her youngest will ever be, and Lance would say that she was kinder than her husband Julian. Even in her darkest of days, sickest of times, she remained optimistic and hopeful for her kingdom. Given, Gertrude did not ever harshly scold her youngest, and only time to time scolded her eldest, but perhaps it was reasoned with the hope that they will learn and discover life for itself.... Or maybe she thought her children were charming, sweet angels who could do no wrong.
Lance passed by many servants and knights quietly and without any notice. If the queen were not in her bedroom, she would have to be at the chapel, no? That, or in her private chamber, but Lance would rather instruct another feminine figure to venture into those quarters than himself for formality's sake. That and because he'd like to not be executed based on rumor. That's how King Julian works, right? Or... or perhaps that was a comment made too soon. It made him chuckle at the thought however.
As he walked through the grand hall, he was met with a weak, but joyous call of his name -- it was the queen, who waved him over with her hand. She had a servant on one side and a bishop on the other, but it seemed that she just couldn't get enough of company. Gertrude exchanged a few words with the bishop before the bishop turned away and headed back to the chapel, and not long was the queen greeted by Lance.
"Your Majesty Gertrude," Lance bowed before her, "Permission to speak?"
"Granted." She appeared pale, her nose and cheeks rose-touched, and her rested low eyes had made her look tired and drain. Gertrude had her arm wrapped around her tall and hefty servant, slightly leaning on her for support, but this time she pulled her back as straight as she could before depending on her servant again.
"I've been instructed to be your guardian for today -- do you mind?"
"Oh, no, no. Not at all -- your company is appreciated, Lance." He smiled when he heard his own name. Queen Gertrude had the best intentions in treating everyone well, and it all started with knowing their names, and if not, finding the appropriate nickname for them. He traveled by her right side along with her servant, remaining quiet at the start. The servant and queen had conversed about going into the garden today to break the monotony of being indoors all day... He nodded in approval when asked and the three made their way, only to quickly place the queen by the nearest stone bench. She wheezed, coughed, and Lance thought he had failed his duty in less than a hour... But she took a deep breathe and with the aid of her servant -- a girl named Annabelle, he learned -- Gertrude was able to breath again.
"Please Lance... Come sit," She invited, her hand patting the warm stone next to her. Lance followed her word as if he was instructed as opposed to invited. "You... Hm... Annabelle, you like stories, yes?"
"I do, your majesty."
"Lance here has some wonderful stories..." Lance had perked up, crossed with embarrassment and a sense of pride when hearing this compliment. "Though he is a warrior, not all of his stories are about war -- plenty of them are about his... Oh... hm -- ah, yes. His travels, his sister... Lance, the bluebells? The bluebells remind him of his sister."
"They do," Lance confirmed. He held back words that allowed him to say more.
"Well, Annabelle, you see, Lance has this sister, the last of his family he ever knows... He lost her sometime ago, but even then he has so many found memories of her... I truly can't urge Julian to dedicate a scavenger hunt for one person, but if I could -- Oh, I might would. Lance already says that he would find her on his own, but I say... be on the look out for that little bluebell!" She chuckled to herself, true in expression but weak in vocal tone, and looked over to Lance. "Annabelle loves stories... Would you care to spare more?"
"More? About... what specifically, majesty?"
"Oh goodness Lance," She shook her head, giving a weak laugh again. "Your sister -- tell Annabelle about your sister... Irene, yes?"
"Yes."
"Well, go on. It'd be just like telling me, but just... two of me -- tell us about her appearance, her smile, her interests and quirks as a young child..." Gertrude fell quiet, allowing Lance to speak. He looked over to Annabelle in hopes of her disinterest, but she was pulled in -- perhaps due to the praise Gertrude gave him in his story-telling skills. Not that he had any... It wasn't his specialty, but he was expected to tell a story nevertheless. Perhaps a hopeful one? A light, hopeful one perhaps, just to ignore the kingdom's trouble for the time.
"I suppose... I suppose I can start off with this one," Lance breathed in, giving a soft laugh as he leaned in. "The bluebells -- yeah, they remind me of Irene... I'll tell you that this was from a long, long time ago, but here goes nothing..." He started his story and he captured attention of both ladies in his presence. He was sure that they just wanted distraction from the real world, so he told him about the overabundance of bluebells at his house, and why Irene planted so many of these seeds and collected so many flowers for their backyard. There were a few laughs -- perhaps false, but he appreciated them -- and the went on and on about multiple stories, some about the army of Gabriel for the matter. Story-telling would serve as a good time-occupier, something to keep the three at bay, separated and far from many royalty commands and duties -- well, until the king commanded otherwise...
The large ivory doors were slammed shut behind him, followed by a frustrated kick there after. He had stormed to his bed to toss his fists against the mattress, punching into it with all his anger and annoyance. He grumbled, he growled, and he tossed himself onto his bed when he finally felt like giving up. It's just not fair -- it just isn't fair! Of all people who could go to such an important, fateful meeting, it would be his brother Tristan -- the name that made him kick his feet against his bedpost in anger. Tristan -- seriously? Did his father not see how he acted? Kylian thought everyone could read it on his face when his father came down for breakfast and insisted that Tristan would go -- did, did everyone see the look on his face? How "enthused" he was -- how basic and dull he was! It was so plain and easy to read, but the only replies given were those of encouragement and enthusiasm, as if this was the greatest idea ever invented since the blade! Kylian cursed to himself, rolling over to his side before releasing all his scream-worthy words in a sigh.
Maybe he was just being jealous again. That's how his mother reasoned his feelings, right? But no, he would not settle in calling it jealousy -- perhaps over-protectiveness. Yes, that's right, because he knew how his brother felt about his birth-given right to rule a kingdom, to take responsibility of a whole kingdom. Kylian knew that the thought of it didn't interest him, and if it doesn't interest him today, and if it doesn't ever interest him, then why would father continue shoving this ruler-ship stuff down his throat? In fact, why hasn't their father figured out, given up, and just prepare the throne for Kylian? Tristan would bring trouble with his lack of want and honest willingness. A ruler who doesn't want to rule made Kylian uneasy and sick, disgusted with the fear and thought of all sorts of "what-if" scenarios. Poor ruling, unsolved issues -- all that is left to make it worst is the fear of loss, and thus, tyranny! Kylian pulled himself up from his bed, turning his head to look at the golden mirror before him...
Sure, Kylian was the youngest, but he was positive that his age would not matter in ruling. He, for one, believed he would make for a better king than his brother, and furthermore a better king than his father! Also, why did age matter? Have they not looked at the other passed kings from not only their kingdom's history, but others? Sure, yeah, there have been some terribly young rulers, but there have been good ones too, right? His mother insisted that he would rule one day, but the one day Kylian saw would be when Tristan dies off! That, or he ends up screwing up bad enough that he is over-thrown... But if Kylian isn't leading the rebellion, a fool would be placed in Tristan's spot, and then the throne will never be his! If he's lucky, Tristan would just pass the throne over to Kylian when he gets it, right? He could only hope, but he's sure that their father has convinced his brother from doing otherwise. Of course, because apparently Kylian is "hot-headed", "childish", and "needs to improve battle tactics" -- Kylian shook his head. He couldn't agree to these statements, and when he asked his mother about such, she simply says that he is a fine lass that will rule one day, over time... The same old thing she always says.
He had to remain relaxed though. If he wanted to prove many people wrong, to show that he would be a better ruler than his brother, he would have to keep his posture and appear to be the good, loving, gentle son he is. The one who cares for his ill mother, watches over the kingdom while his father and brother are out doing real kingdom stuff, and to not leave the palace grounds... Pathetic, right? He can't be the only one thinking all of this was silly. He wasn't even sure why his father was going to this sudden Round Table meeting... Wouldn't he be the last face Michael would ever want to see?
His thoughts were interrupted by two knocks on his door. Kylian moved his hands to his chin, resting his elbows on his knees, and after another tense-heavy sigh was released, he grudgingly invited the person in. A man in shining armor -- fantastic -- walked in, his blue eyes empty of happiness, but appeared to be focused and determined. He wore his dark hair in a ponytail, a high one, with the front part of his hair ruffled in some untamed, scrambled style... Kylian would like to describe him as distressed but refused to due to any possible offense that would be made... But yet, who wouldn't be in distressed today?
"Prince Kylian, the second son of King Juli --"
"Yeah, yeah," Kylian rolled his eyes. The man was quick to understand that the wave of the prince's hand dismissed the formality of their conversation.
"Kylian," the warrior restated with a tinge of annoyance, "You're lessons will continue as of any normal day. According to your mother, you must be reminded of this."
"I know, I know... Was that all you were sent in for?"
"And to check on you."
"I'm alright," Kylian voice snapped at the man... Wait, didn't he just tell himself to he would prove to be a better ruler? Right. He looked down at the man's feet, then back up to him. It was only now he remembered the warrior's name. How rude of Kylian... "Sorry Lance. I'll be out in a few."
Lance shook his head, but didn't say word. He proceeded to leave the room, but as he placed his hand on the handle, Kylian had made his way to the other side of the room and inquired: "Hey Lance?"
"Yes, Kylian?"
"Who else is going with Tristan?"
"Other than your father, it has remain undecided," Lance responded. "There have been many recommendations of bringing of guardian along, especially for your father, but I have not heard word on who."
"Right, of course," Kylian grumbled. "Carry on." As the prince made his way to his closet, Lance remained still for a moment, waiting for the boy to make one more nudged-in request. Yet, he didn't say anything. Lance left quietly from the room in hopes he would not be called out again for one more inquiry or complaint. He was no stranger to the prince's long-winded protests about the kingdom and his brother and his curtains and his servants...
⚜
Lance still could not believe that a man older than him would still be considered a boy at his age. He wasn't so sure what was wrong with Kylian, but could think of many things that may be wrong with him. Perhaps him being raised within castle walls have not helped him in maturing or his lack of experience with life, or maybe he has been spoiled with gifts to keep him hushed during tantrums. He wasn't very sure and nor did he really have a say-so. Perhaps if he had a higher ranking, say, a knight, he might have been listened to, but would any parent wish to hear how terrible their child truly is? It wasn't Lance's concern anyhow. His primary objective according to the kingdom remains in being a pawn for battle. Beyond that purpose, he had his own life, his own wishes, wants, and dreams. It should be a given that he would have his own wants beyond what is best for the kingdom and his survival, but it was people like Kylian that made him doubt whether or not people actually realized this.
On a lighter note, he would not have to deal with him. For the moment being, Lance would be stationed as the queen's guard, unless he would be ordered to guard the king and his son for the Round Table trip. Queen Gertrude was a far kinder lady than her youngest will ever be, and Lance would say that she was kinder than her husband Julian. Even in her darkest of days, sickest of times, she remained optimistic and hopeful for her kingdom. Given, Gertrude did not ever harshly scold her youngest, and only time to time scolded her eldest, but perhaps it was reasoned with the hope that they will learn and discover life for itself.... Or maybe she thought her children were charming, sweet angels who could do no wrong.
Lance passed by many servants and knights quietly and without any notice. If the queen were not in her bedroom, she would have to be at the chapel, no? That, or in her private chamber, but Lance would rather instruct another feminine figure to venture into those quarters than himself for formality's sake. That and because he'd like to not be executed based on rumor. That's how King Julian works, right? Or... or perhaps that was a comment made too soon. It made him chuckle at the thought however.
As he walked through the grand hall, he was met with a weak, but joyous call of his name -- it was the queen, who waved him over with her hand. She had a servant on one side and a bishop on the other, but it seemed that she just couldn't get enough of company. Gertrude exchanged a few words with the bishop before the bishop turned away and headed back to the chapel, and not long was the queen greeted by Lance.
"Your Majesty Gertrude," Lance bowed before her, "Permission to speak?"
"Granted." She appeared pale, her nose and cheeks rose-touched, and her rested low eyes had made her look tired and drain. Gertrude had her arm wrapped around her tall and hefty servant, slightly leaning on her for support, but this time she pulled her back as straight as she could before depending on her servant again.
"I've been instructed to be your guardian for today -- do you mind?"
"Oh, no, no. Not at all -- your company is appreciated, Lance." He smiled when he heard his own name. Queen Gertrude had the best intentions in treating everyone well, and it all started with knowing their names, and if not, finding the appropriate nickname for them. He traveled by her right side along with her servant, remaining quiet at the start. The servant and queen had conversed about going into the garden today to break the monotony of being indoors all day... He nodded in approval when asked and the three made their way, only to quickly place the queen by the nearest stone bench. She wheezed, coughed, and Lance thought he had failed his duty in less than a hour... But she took a deep breathe and with the aid of her servant -- a girl named Annabelle, he learned -- Gertrude was able to breath again.
"Please Lance... Come sit," She invited, her hand patting the warm stone next to her. Lance followed her word as if he was instructed as opposed to invited. "You... Hm... Annabelle, you like stories, yes?"
"I do, your majesty."
"Lance here has some wonderful stories..." Lance had perked up, crossed with embarrassment and a sense of pride when hearing this compliment. "Though he is a warrior, not all of his stories are about war -- plenty of them are about his... Oh... hm -- ah, yes. His travels, his sister... Lance, the bluebells? The bluebells remind him of his sister."
"They do," Lance confirmed. He held back words that allowed him to say more.
"Well, Annabelle, you see, Lance has this sister, the last of his family he ever knows... He lost her sometime ago, but even then he has so many found memories of her... I truly can't urge Julian to dedicate a scavenger hunt for one person, but if I could -- Oh, I might would. Lance already says that he would find her on his own, but I say... be on the look out for that little bluebell!" She chuckled to herself, true in expression but weak in vocal tone, and looked over to Lance. "Annabelle loves stories... Would you care to spare more?"
"More? About... what specifically, majesty?"
"Oh goodness Lance," She shook her head, giving a weak laugh again. "Your sister -- tell Annabelle about your sister... Irene, yes?"
"Yes."
"Well, go on. It'd be just like telling me, but just... two of me -- tell us about her appearance, her smile, her interests and quirks as a young child..." Gertrude fell quiet, allowing Lance to speak. He looked over to Annabelle in hopes of her disinterest, but she was pulled in -- perhaps due to the praise Gertrude gave him in his story-telling skills. Not that he had any... It wasn't his specialty, but he was expected to tell a story nevertheless. Perhaps a hopeful one? A light, hopeful one perhaps, just to ignore the kingdom's trouble for the time.
"I suppose... I suppose I can start off with this one," Lance breathed in, giving a soft laugh as he leaned in. "The bluebells -- yeah, they remind me of Irene... I'll tell you that this was from a long, long time ago, but here goes nothing..." He started his story and he captured attention of both ladies in his presence. He was sure that they just wanted distraction from the real world, so he told him about the overabundance of bluebells at his house, and why Irene planted so many of these seeds and collected so many flowers for their backyard. There were a few laughs -- perhaps false, but he appreciated them -- and the went on and on about multiple stories, some about the army of Gabriel for the matter. Story-telling would serve as a good time-occupier, something to keep the three at bay, separated and far from many royalty commands and duties -- well, until the king commanded otherwise...