The Final Days of Springborough

Patrick must have been quite the sight, he figured, as he strolled through the town to the entrance of the castle, him and his guards, half unclothed, one unconscious, and the bear tied by chain to his wrist. He wondered that if people weren’t already inside their homes hiding from the rain, if they would have ran inside anyway to get away from Lucky. He saw them in their windows, in the doorways, peeking out incredulously. Their gazes were fixed on the bear, their eyes wandering about its impressive stature, and when they got to the chain, only then would they allow their sight to travel to Patrick. He’d smile back, as if to tell them it was all right, but they’d avoid his gaze, returning to the bear leaving deep imprints in the town mud.

“Nobody understands that you can be gentle, Lucky,” Patrick whispered to the bear, believing no one else could hear them because of the rain. “Perhaps they’ll fear me the same way too when I hit my growth spurt.”

Patrick knew of some boys that were envious Patrick was to become a giant. They would talk to him of all the things they would do themselves; none of which were very good ideas or accomplished anything that was nice to other people. Why, some people would destroy other kingdoms, making Springborough the only one. Some of them said they would stomp on “so-and-so’s house”, for they once “ridiculed them during lessons” as if house crumbling revenge was suitable for something as small as name-calling. Some of them would collect the biggest rocks, and make a home bigger than the castle so that the royal family would have to respect them.

Patrick just wanted to have a conversation that didn’t revolve around being a giant. He was going to be one someday, of this he knew, but why sit around and dwell on it? He wondered if he really did have any real friends, or if these friends were all companions for his future giant self, children who were being nice to him now so that when he grew, they could claim him as a buddy when he was trying to reposition Springborough to the top of the mountain.

Getting through town was easy. There wasn’t a soul in sight. It was as he advanced toward the castle that he realized he was going to have an issue.

He followed behind the three armored knights as they led the way toward the Lishens castle, but they began to veer off to the left of the path, where a great big wooden door, made from the same wood as the castle door straight in front of him, led to the great, expansive field he usually resided in. Patrick had no intention of going into that field now, what with the rain and all, and so when the knights went to the left, Patrick continued straight on. He and Lucky Bear continued on to the castle’s door, leading the knights behind him, Rodolfo, the other underwear clad knight, and the unconscious one. They stopped in their tracks, confused as to the young Prince’s antics.

“Your highness,” Rodolfo called, “the field awaits you.”

“The field awaits nothing,” Patrick called back.

This got the knight’s attention in front of him, the ones who veered off toward the field, and now realized that the young Prince was not following. They also stopped in their trek, watching as Patrick strode to the two knights guarding the door, the same knights who were on watch when Princess Kyrstin headed off by herself into the woods, the same knights who barred his entry earlier in the day. So, it was no surprise when Patrick walked up to them again, wanting entry, and seeing the guards resolve to say no to him a second time. Only this time, a great big bear sniffed at one of their legs as Patrick talked to the other guard.

“Prince Patrick Lishens, open the door,” Patrick said, his words sounding sloppy as his lips were soaked from the weather.

“Your highness, we are not permitted to allow you entry to the castle,” the guard stammered. The other guard had moved, shuffling his feet back as the bear continued to sniff him. His back against the door, his sword tip in the ground, he let out a whimper as Lucky let out a grunt.

“Not permitted by whom, guard?”

The guard, knowing full well that Patrick knew full well by whom, stuttered even more.

“The-the-the King, and Qu-Queen, your highness.”

“My mother and father are not here. Have not been in some time. Are you dense?”

“Well, then-then, the Princess! Kyrstin, and your brother Thomas. They would be in charge.”

“My sister Kyrstin has gone missing. You two were two of the last to see her as she went out without an escort. My brother Thomas has ran off without his guards in an effort to go and find her. Tell me, if I needed someone to blame for the fact both of my siblings are gone, who should I blame for that? The Princess off and my brother after her. Would it be the last people that saw her alive ?”

The guard looked at Patrick, fear in his eyes, while the other guard looked down at Lucky, absolutely riddled with anxiety, and a warm sensation running down his leg. Lucky, using the big, hard strength of his head, had pushed the guard against the wall, pinning him there.

“Let me in, guard,” Patrick said, his voice turning the most serious he had ever used. “Let me into my castle, or find someone with the authority to stop me. But, it won’t be you. Step aside”

The guard, thinking it over, took one long side step to allow the prince and his pet entry. Patrick used the chain to back Lucky off of the other guard, giving them room to open the doors. Lucky was sniffing the guard’s feet, probably also incredulous that the guard had been so scared he had urinated on himself, but that’s what being a great big bear gets you- the ability to strike fear in other people while just being curious. The guard was the first knight Lucky really got to see up close, since all the other ones stayed back when he came to. Obviously, he was just curious about the shiny clothing that clickety-clanked when the knight moved.

It had been a long time since Patrick had been in the castle, although some images came back to him as if it was yesterday. He left Lucky by the door, chaining him up to a torch holder on the wall, not quite sure if it would work or not to hold the bear. But, Lucky didn’t seem too interested in being inside, and casually laid down, trying to inspect his arrow wound. Patrick went off, looking for someone on the castle staff who might have the gall to doctor his friend.

The Great Hall was still great. Patrick still felt tiny in it, and he wondered if he always would. Even when he grew to impossible bulk, would he still feel like a tiny kid within this overly roomy area? His father and his mother’s chair, sat ominously at the end, not having felt the warmth of a body in them for who-knows-how-long. Patrick didn’t want to look too long at the chairs, because he had no idea where his parents were. He felt the chairs did, and he felt that the chairs only carried bad news.

He went on, looking about the halls that housed the armor of knights from the present to the past. He looked into his brother Thomas’ room, the empty hook on the wall where his sword should have been, his messy bed. The casual comforts that come with being an ordinary royal child. A rug made out of animal fur, clothes neatly arranged in an armoire, a view over the kingdom from several windows, books, dirt-less floor…

Patrick moved on.

In Kyrstin’s room, it was almost night-and-day. The only Princess of the Lishens was given a lot more in the ways of fabric to decorate the cold stones that made up her castle room. The views were the same from the windows as her brothers, but wind chimes and mobiles hung from the sills, making pretty notes in the rainstorm. Again, Patrick couldn’t get over how less filled with nature both of his siblings rooms were as he was surrounded by nature every single minute of every single day. Here, Kyrstin had a bigger bed than Thomas, with more pillows, stuffed animals, and sheets. The floor of the princess’ room was covered with clothes, outfits that she thought about wearing, but discarded instead. A desk in the corner, covered in books and papers, showed Patrick his sister’s perils of “having to learn everything” as she would tell him.

The gentle giant felt a twang of envy in his stomach. A pain that seemed to line his bottom ribs, and he massaged it with his fingers.

“You are special,” Patrick remembered his mother, Queen Jenniffer, telling him when she was showing him the reconstituted barn where he was to stay. “You must remain in the field for we don’t know when you might grow. We can’t have you trapped in the castle…”

“I do feel trapped in the castle,” Kyrstin told him one night that she came out. She couldn’t sleep sometimes, her mind always working, and so she’d sneak out to where Patrick was, lay down and look up at the stars. It always seemed Kyrstin would trade places with Patrick, but perhaps she just enjoyed her visits. “Mom and Dad, they gave you the world. I have four walls of stone…”

“Enough,” Patrick said to himself, closing Kyrstin’s door and moving about the castle. “First thing’s first, find a doctor for Bear.”

And second? As the only Lishens left to rule Springborough, Prince Patrick, the Royal Giant of Springborough, was going to rule the day.