The Final Days of Springborough

Patrick could hear Lucky’s growls of pain throughout the castle. He had found the castle’s medicine man, a dark haired brute by the name of Grozan, who seemed too loud for his profession, but maybe that was just the fear of being about to remove a wooden arrow from a great big, brown bear’s chest. Patrick had held Lucky down as he tightened his chain on the torch. The young giant took his pet’s tree trunk sized neck in his little grasp, and helped the doctor hold a towel soaked in ether to the bear’s snout. In just a matter of seconds, Lucky was snoring something awful, and Grozan went to work on the arrow.

They had gotten it out quickly, spilling quite a bit of blood on the Great Hall’s stone floor. Patrick had never seen so much blood, it seemed to darken the more there was, and how thick it could be. When a housemaid came to mop it up, Patrick had to leave, not liking how the blood seemed to combat the cleaning, trying with all of its might to remain where it was spilled. With the arrow out, all Grozan had to do was stitch up the wound, which he did, and now Lucky Bear was moaning, probably both from the anesthetic and from the pain from the surgical wound.

Meanwhile, Patrick sat in Thomas’ room, a room with comforts he never knew, and he examined the bloody arrow. It was definitely poorly made, or at least, not from any kingdom he had ever seen. The feathers at the end of it looked mottled, not pristine like the feathers plucked from eagles on the castle grounds, each one carefully chosen from a kept bird of the Kingdom of Springborough’s seal, and artfully pressed into the slots of the arrows by craftsmen of King Daniel’s archer academy. The arrow was not rounded down smoothly, it was like a jagged piece of wood found on the ground, shaved down with a dull knife, and adorned on the end by whatever feathers could be found. It almost looked as if this arrow was dressed with pigeon feathers. The only thing impressive about the arrow was the head, a vicious point cut from a hard, light rock. It figures that the most impressive thing about this villain’s arrow was the killing mechanism. Why be flashy with the feather when it was the pointy end that would leave a mark?

“Your highness,” Rodolfo shouted, announcing himself as he came down the hallway toward Thomas’ room. “Your highness, the second level of the castle is no place for a man of your unconscionable mass.”

“What do you mean?” Patrick asked, not understanding.

“You weigh more than you look. You might weigh more with every minute that passes. I don’t know the strength of these raised floors, but I don’t think we should test it in case you keep growing heavier. You wouldn’t want your family’s castle to cave in.”

He has a point, Patrick thought to himself. This was also the moment that Patrick started to feel unbelievably sleepy. Perhaps it was the long walk through the woods that had tired him out. He didn’t usually feel such a want to close his eyes and curl up into a deep slumber, but for some reason, his eyes began to burn. The only relief from the burning was to shut them, hard, but when he did he could feel himself slowly drifting off. But, he knew this was no time to sleep. His siblings were missing. His family’s kingdom needed him.

“Rodolfo,” Patrick sighed, his voice sounding weird to him, as if he could only hear it inside his skull, instead of outside his head.

Rodolfo waited for orders.

“Fetch me my father’s council,” Patrick stated.

“Your highness?”

Patrick looked out the window at the storm that rumbled like his new pet. The rain fell in sheets, the wind whistled in every direction. He was glad to be out of it, but he was very fearful of his siblings that were still in it. He had remembered the soldier who had been hit by lightening, wished him the best with good thoughts that he shoved, mentally, out the window. He wondered if the almost-naked soldiers had found clothing. Most of all, he wondered about his sister and his brother, who must be soaking wet, and were, hopefully, on their way back to the castle. He looked out at the lands, what he could see from the raised point where he was, and could see it seemed like the storm had no end, the trees beyond Springborough did not give a hint that Kyrstin and Thomas were alive and on their way back. Out the window held nothing but promised misery.

“My sister, the Princess, is missing. My brother, the Prince, is missing. I want to get a search party together. I want them home as soon as possible. I want to talk to them about how everything came about. How it’s possible that all three of the royal children were in the woods leaving the whole Kingdom of Springborough without a Lishens to oversee it.”

“Your highness-“

“I’m the only one left, Rodolfo, for all we know. I’m the only Lishens in the land who can rule, and that needs to be respected now!”

“If we could only wait-“

“Why? What if they don’t come back soon, tonight? Tomorrow?”

“I highly doubt that-“

“That they want to be away? I doubt that, too, but I do not doubt something happened today that should never happen. We should never have been allowed to venture into the woods alone-“

“Your highness, you keep saying “alone” as if my men and I were not with you. As if Corson was not with you. You were not alone. Your sister, Princess Kyrstin, was alone, but by all accounts she had snuck off, denying an escort-“

“Which she should not be able to do. Not with our parents away.”

“And then, your brother and you-“

“Your prince and I, guard-“

“Sir, the royal Prince and honorary Knight Thomas Lishens of Springborough, sir, demanded an escort for yourself and him to venture forth into the woods of Fortis to bring back your sister-“

“Why are you so angry, Rodolfo?”

“A knight has died.”

That stunned Patrick. He was not expecting such news.

“Which knight?”

“Frank.”

Patrick looked at Rodolfo quizzically. He only knew a few of the knights and guards, and knew less by name.

“The one struck by lightening?” Patrick assumed.

“We don’t know if he was ever alive after that. Seemed to be breathing, but he definitely wasn’t by the time we got back to the castle. Grozan had checked, declared him dead before you called him to perform surgery on the bear, Lucky. But I ask of you, your highness, don’t sour the memory of Frank by saying the royal children had ventured into the woods alone. A knight went with… gave his life for the journey of your brother.”

Patrick thought about this. Rodolfo was right, somewhat.

“I was alone.”

Rodolfo looked up.

“When we heard Lucky growl for the first time, and Thomas led everyone toward my grandmother’s cottage. You all left me alone in the woods.”

“We were following Thomas’ orders.”

“And now you will follow mine. No Lishens child will ever be alone again, you hear me? Until Corson returns, you are in charge of the guards. Bring me my father’s council, form a search party, we’re going to scour this entire Kingdom for Thomas and Kyrstin.”

“It might put them in danger if people know they are out there, unguarded, your highness. There are people in the shadows with dark thoughts.”

“They’re already in danger. I want them home.”

Patrick rose from the bed, perhaps too quickly for a giant so tired, who exerted so much energy traveling that day. For before he fully righted himself, his eyes rolled up into his head, and he was out like a light before he hit the floor. Rodolfo went to grab him before he hit the ground, but thought twice, thinking the weight might tear his shoulders out of joint. Instead, the royal guard could do nothing but watch as the giant’s face slammed into the ground,… out like a light.