A fever has stricken the prince, the savants gather around him and chant incantations and pour upon his burning body the remedies of times forgotten.
His head is lifted from his soaked pillow so he can drink from the chalice of eternal life, his lips will not let it pass.
The kingdom in turmoil, the nation in distress, the line of their king will be erased, their kingship given from times of old will be erased from the
pages of history. Their nation will become the prize of generals and tyrants. Their noble prince will let his flame be extinguished. He wills not to
The council of the king has gathered, their testimony of the land is heard by the fickle prince. His people´s lamentation is given voice to his deaf
ears. He cares not. He does not wish to be their king.
The king is finally summoned, and by his command to the prince, the princes eyes are opened, but he looks not upon his father. He then drifts into
consciousness enough to utter from his faint voice one word. The king, old and tired, leans over his sons broken body and place his face close to the
princes. Then the servants and savants only see the back of the king slowly rise. When he turns they look upon his eyes for an answer or sign of good
fortune, they can focus only on the river of tears flowing from his eyes. His face now twisted and bitter. His once familiar smile, now only a memory
in their minds.
The word, they ask, what did the prince say? The king answers not. He turns to return to his chambers, the councilors and administrators follow behind
him begrudgingly with documents and words of concern for the nation, hoping for a minute of his time. He slams the massive door of his chamber,
stopping their advance.
The prince is then heard screaming. All run to see his condition. Is he with death now entangled? Is his life to be taken this moment?
The first to enter the princes chamber is greeted by the prince now limping to the window, each step a torture for his almost lifeless body. They
assume he wishes to take his life. He gathers his strength enough to issue his last command in this world. "leave me be". He takes his arms and opens
the window, collapsing upon the stone of its framework. He again takes his arms and pulls himself up enough to stand, outstretches them, and with the
voice of a lion says: " I, Prince of these lands, heir to their throne, son of their king, stand before my kingdom as a traitor" "I have sinned
against its people and have become the enemy of this land that now poisons my very flesh." , " I cannot drink from its streams, I can not eat the
fruit of its abundance" " I have sinned against the land and the trust placed in my blood to be its keeper."
Those assembled were in shock, "what is this the prince is saying" To which the prince turns, almost with the commanding strength of his former days
and speaks to them thusly;
"MY country men, I am not your prince anymore than you are my servants. I have offended this land and it curses my very blood. I have become the enemy
of mankind. I have become the traitor of man. The great feats to which I once aspired are empty, now for a quick death I yearn. When in strength I
roamed these lands, I came across a river, pristine and perfect. I saw next to it a woman and her child playing. I as her prince came to her and asked
her where the source of the stream was, from whence it flowed. She responded to me, My prince, the stream is of water pure and powerful that flows
from the greatest kingdom to the lesser ones, bringing with it abundance and strength to all the lands it touches. I looked to her in disgust, and
said This kingdom in which you now occupy with your bastard son is the greatest land as far as the eyes may see and the foot may traverse. She smiled
and said, no my prince, your land is beautiful and great, but it is not without the life that flows into it. Without the flow of life into it from
this stream your orchards would go dry and empty. The fields would not yield their abundance. Your kingdom would be dead. It is the life force of your
people that feeds this stream. Its source is the noble blood of your people. They are the ones to refresh all the lands you say you rule. In anger I
went to strike her down with my sword, instead upon the stone that met my falling foot, I tripped and struck her child instead. In horror I turned to
strike her as well, the shame was too great and I wished to silence the witness of my heinous deed. The child was as air before my sword touched his
flesh. The woman's body was vanished as well. I then realized I had transgressed against the spirit of the land. The soul of the people I am to rule
was to deem me worthy, but I had failed.
I went returning to the palace with my head hanging in shame and my heart greatly troubled. I wished to speak to my king for council, but when I
returned I could only find strength to lay and sleep. The days passed and always my strength diminished. I knew full well that my life would follow. I
pleaded with the spirit of the stream day and night, but she did not head my call. I returned to where I saw her last but she, the child, and the
stream were nowhere to be found. I wretched my cloths and fell to the ground defeated.
When many months had passed and my body was wrought with disease and weakness, I saw her one last time. My spirit almost jumped from my body out of
joy, "a chance to make amends" I thought. She then spoke to me and said:
Fear not my prince, I am the maiden of the people. I am the mother of mankind. To your father the king and all those before him I have appeared and
told to them the source of their power. I have shown them all, all your ancestors, the source of their lands greatness, and all have failed to
contemplate my words. You have even tried to strike me down out of your pride and obstinacy. If you had waited but a moment more I would have uttered
to you the name of that stream, which by its mention gives your right to rule, by its spoken form gives your land its kingship. She then revealed to
me the name. Terra Hominis. Its meaning is " land of the people". You have never known it and so, the land poisons your flesh so your spirit may not
poison the people. You will die. and your blood will be erased and forgotten.
You are the custodian of your lands, the keeper of its people. Their wealth and greatness is the reflection of your success as their king to be. You
have taken the road of their turmoil. Their wealth and greatness would not be their own under your crown, and so you would be a failure of a king to
this land. Worth forgetting. And so it shall be. "
Ending the story, the prince turned again to the window and pronounced the word, the name he spoke to his father that caused him great pain for he
knew the curse that had befallen his son. The prince then threw his body upon the floor beneath him.
edit on 8-2-2012 by casenately because: (no reason given)