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 Posted: Sun Oct 30, 2011 2:54 pm
My Corrupted Prince
Username: ATh e a r t
Name of Prince: Ramiel Rajan
What memento/mementos does he have from princess/es: Gold round pendant with a rose on top made of rubies (on a gold chain; and parts that are gold are blood stained); armlet that’s made of black onyx with gold borders (onyx is cracked at places due to problems obtaining it…); gold and silver chain belts, with various bloodstones hanging from parts of the chain (some are either broken and missing pieces or cracked); gold headpiece adorning his forehead with a large, rainbow ammolite pendant (can think of this as a tiara; more ornate than his others because it’s his favorite)
Your Prompt: As a young colt, Ramiel didn’t really care for his princely title. He had gone around and played with the others, even though Ramiel’s parents thought that they were beneath them and that Ramiel should have been playing with the other ‘noble’ bloods. One day after getting out of his parents’ castle, he met the filly that rolled in the mud. She had taken off the ribbon that her parents had tied her mane with to get dirty. That filly was the one to open Ramiel’s eyes to the world, including love and adoration.
Day by day, Ramiel managed to get away from his parents and met and meet the filly at the mud hole. Instead of seeing the filly again, he saw two adults, the parents of the filly. They looked around and ran towards him with worried looks on their faces.
“You! Are you the ‘prince’ that bought our little girl’s love with riches,” the father questioned with great intensity. His expression was worried, but the words that he managed to spit out were of anger and disgust.
Ramiel cowered under the stallion’s words. “N-no sir… I-I just play with her at the mud hole… I thought she’d be here…”
The stallion sighed as he looked at Ramiel. The stallion knew that Ramiel was just a boy, even if he was a prince. How would someone so young know how to buy someone’s love? The distraught father sighed and looked down at the ground. “Well, little fella… She ran off with some stallion that promised her riches beyond her imagination. There’s no point coming back here anymore.” The stallion turned around and walked back towards his mate. The mare was holding a red ribbon in her mouth with tears in her eyes. The filly had been so excited to leave she didn’t even take the one true thing she owned. Not wanting to keep it, the mother let go of the red ribbon and it fell into the mud.
Just staring at the mud hole and the ribbon, Ramiel stood there and wondered. He was sad that his friend was gone, but he also felt his heart break that someone could be bought with riches. Was he not good enough for her? Ramiel quickly went and picked up the ribbon and headed home. From that day forward, he kept that red ribbon tied around his tail, reminding him that he had to find her.
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When it was time for Ramiel to find a mate, he had thought mares would fall for his looks and/or personality, but he found out early on that all they were after was his title and the riches that his family had. Each mare that his parents ‘found’ for him, they would throw themselves at him, like he was something that could be won. Ramiel started thinking of these mares as dirt. He hadn’t thought that what happened to the filly he met was really true. But with this, he started losing interest in them. They just seemed… Too easy to use.
One night, his parents sent a mare over to his living quarters. Ramiel thought that she was a pretty thing, but he didn’t care much for her personality. The mare tried nibbling on his neck and ears, but all it was doing was getting the poor prince more and more irritated. ”Is this what that filly did? Is this what she wanted? Just attention-craving like this… piece of meat?” Ramiel thought that showing little to no interest in the mare would eventually get her to go away, but the mare was persistent.
When the mare went a little bit too far and nibbled somewhere that made Ramiel uncomfortable, he snapped, biting the mare on the neck, accidentally hitting one of the vital places in the neck, killing her instantly.
At first, Ramiel was afraid. He had actually killed another. It was scorned to ever take the life of another, but was this mare counting as a being? Ramiel stood up, his head held high over the body and looked It over. ”No,” he told himself. ”She’s piece of meat: a piece of meat she just kept throwing at me over and over again.”
He kicked the body, ever so slightly. What respect did this mare deserve? Nothing. Ramiel looked at the body once over again and noticed a silver and gold chain belt. It was oddly beautiful to him. There were random blood-colored stones that dangled from the chains. Some were broken or cracked from the body’s fall and over all weight, but it was still beautiful.
Ramiel took the chain belt off of the dead mare. ”It doesn’t need it anyways.” He kicked the body again and walked to a corner of the room. He curled up and started crying loudly. When his servants came to investigate, he told them that the mare was trying to kill him and in self-defense, he accidently killed the mare. His parents tried to calm him down, but all he did was cry continuously until he was alone.
Once in his room again, after the servants had cleaned up the mess, he sat down on his bed of flowers. He looked at the ribbon on his tail that was now stained with a little bit of the mare’s blood. Ramiel stared at it, remembering what had happened to that filly, more specifically, what that filly did to gain herself riches. ”I will find her and other pieces of meat that don’t deserve what they have…”
That night, he stared up at the moon until he fell asleep. Ramiel felt like he had a mission to clear the world of these females that didn’t deserve to live. He would destroy each and every one of them like it was their own fault and take their most precious possession, possessions that were the cause of their degradation in the first place. He looked at the ribbon that was still tied around his tail. “You, my dear,” he spoke aloud in a deadly yet loving tone. “You will have the worst death of them all…”
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Ramiel slowed down from his gallop as he approached a lake. The full moon was high in the night sky as he looked at the reflection in the water. Looking at it made him smile, not so much that he thought that the night was beautiful, but more so because of his newest possession. As he bent his head lower down to the water, using the light of the moon to gaze upon true beauty. The stallion’s face held a grin that seemed void of any ‘good’ that had been there, his eyes holding a deep evil that was Ramiel now.
”All this time to find you… And you’re more beautiful than I imagined,” he thought to himself as he looked at his new ammolite tiara. As he moved his head in different directions, the different colors of the rainbow showed on the ammolite. A dark happiness shone in his eyes. ”You were definitely worth the wait and the effort…”
He washed off the blood that was dripping from his mouth. Some managed to come off of his skin and coat, but through time, most of the blood was now a part of him, and he didn’t care at all. The blood that stained the death of the promiscuous filly that shattered his heart, he didn’t want it all to go away. Ramiel wanted to remember the so called ‘mares’ that he destroyed. He looked back at his silver and gold chain belt and grinned.
”I wonder what beauty I’d find next…”
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Posted: Sun Oct 30, 2011 6:31 pm
My Corrupted Prince
Username: Divena
Name of Prince: Pasvoli
What memento/mementos does he have from princess/es: A delicate gold and silver ring, large enough to rest around the base of a unicorn’s horn, on a steel chain.
Your Prompt: Prince Pasvoli was a good ruler to his people. He was kind and generous, and always put their welfare above his own. This was partly because he was a good prince, and partly because there was nothing he could do for himself. The emptiness inside his own heart had been there his whole life, and as a creature of the night, he’d had a very long life.
His advisors told him, whenever he expressed concern, that it was natural. That all males of their kind felt that hollowness until they found their missing half, the mares that completed them heart, soul, and mind. Prince Pasvoli had simply never found his.
Every time they gave him these reassurances, he felt a sharp pain, akin to grief, shooting through his chest. A sense of lost so deep that it near killed him. After awhile, he stopped asking, just to keep from feeling that pain. His advisors seemed to appreciate that more than his questions. This worked fine… for a time. Until the day came that he simply couldn’t stand the emptiness any longer.
“I will find her,” he told his advisors, much to their horror. “You may come with me, or you may stay here and act in my stead, until I return. But I will find the one who fills the void inside me, and I will return with her at my side.”
The advisors tried to protest. They said that his people simply couldn’t spare him just then, but the words rang false to his ears. It was a time of peace, both the crops and his people flourished as they hadn’t in hundreds of years. He was not needed for anything immediately. Finally, his advisors saw that they would not be able to sway their prince. One remained behind to keep an eye on things while the others joined their leader as he embarked on his noble quest.
With no particular direction to go in, the prince allowed his instincts to guide him. They traveled through dark forests, battled evil skinwalkers, and pressed on through everything. With each scar that Prince Pasvoli collected, he reminded himself that it was worth it. Every price he paid was worth it, if he could just find the one who could fill the void. The one who could bring happiness to his empty existence.
And find her, he did, after far too long. A beautiful horned mare, whose very presence took his breath away. While he was instantly smitten, however, his advisors tried to guide him on. Tried to convince him of all her short comings. She was a peasant. She was too common. She would allow the crown to go to her head, figuratively speaking. She wasn’t right for him. She was too head strong.
But the young prince ignored all their arguments, listening to his heart, which had swelled at the mere sight of her. This was the one, he knew it. Without ever speaking to her, he could feel the emptiness filling. The sorrow edging away. A joy the like of which he had never felt before swamped him. He had to bring her home as his queen.
The lovely mare, however, had other ideas. She spurned his arrogant advances, shocking him straight down to his ego. How could a commoner turn down a prince? Worse, a prince that looked like him! Oh, granted, he was a bit scarred still from his journey, but those marks were just proof of his abilities as a warrior! What maiden would turn a stallion of his caliber down?
This one, apparently.
He tried asking his advisers for help in winning her over, but they were useless. Still, they prattled on about moving on and finding a suitable princess for their prince. He dismissed their words without a second thought. If he couldn’t win her over with his prowess as a fighter or his dashing good looks, he would shower gifts upon her, to show her his wealth. And so he did. He gave her the best of everything, nothing was too exquisite for the mare who had chased away the emptiness inside him.
And still she declined his affections. Oh, she was kind enough, but she would not take his advancements seriously, treating him as a foolish colt.
Good looks, achievements, and bribes had all failed him. At a loss for what else to offer, he confessed the truth to her. He told her of the emptiness, he told her that he all he wanted was her at his side, and in exchange he would give her everything. All she needed to do was ask, and whatever she wanted was hers.
She asked for his heart. He told her she already had it, but swore he would care it out of his own chest, if she wanted it that way. She asked for proof, for evidence that he cared for her and was not just looking for an ornament for his court. She would not tell him how he was to prove this.
Once again, he turned to his advisors for help, and once again they were useless. Really, he didn’t know why he kept them around. He left his beloved and once again the hollowness set in, only it was worse this time, since he knew what he was missing. He traveled, alone this time, searching for something that would prove his worth to the mare.
He consulted with shamans and wisemen. He sought out Elders and asked them. No answers came, short of getting to know the mare and prove it with his actions. He was more than willing to do so, but he needed to return to his kingdom soon… and he couldn’t leave her.
It was when he was circling back to confess to her that he had failed when he saw the ring in a market place. It was a lovely piece of jewelry, made of silver and gold winding together. The design was simple, and it was inexpensive, a throwaway piece, really. But its simplistic elegance caught his heart, very much the way his beloved had. And, he realized, it was the perfect size to go around her horn. A vain creature would have claimed the ring would clash with her coloring and detract from her appearance, but he knew his beloved was not vain.
He bought the ring and continued back to her. His heart warmed to see that she was waiting for him. And then it shriveled when he remembered that he had failed to find a way to prove himself to her. He confessed as much. He told her of all the advice he had received, and how it had all rang hallow to his ears. He told her that he could not leave his people unattended for too long. He swore he would return to her, again and again, until he could find some way to show her how he felt. And then he presented her with the ring, as a promise that he would keep coming until he had shown he was worthy.
The mare, her own heart swelling with his words, embraced him and told him that that was what she had wanted to hear. That his attempts to show her he cared had done just that. The fact that he had gotten her such a simple gift, rather than dumping expensive treasures at her hooves, only showed how well he knew her.
He cried with joy and returned his beloved’s embrace, knowing they would live happily ever after…
And perhaps they would have, if the darkness hadn’t descended. It was so swift, so terrifying, that the prince was immediately on the defense. He was blind, a sensation that had never happened to him at night before. His eyes, ice blue, were made for the darkness. He felt his beloved ripped away from him, heard her terrified and pained screams as she was attacked. He struggled through the thick blackness, crying out her name. Claws slashed at him, gouging deep and ripping his flesh from his bones. He fought back viciously, lashing out at his assailants, all the while crying out for the one who completed him.
Finally, he felt his hooves connect with the skull of his assailant. Felt the life leave his attacker’s body. The oppressive darkness lifted and, to his horror, found the bloodied body of his beloved at his hooves, the ring he had given her laying in a puddle of her blood.
“No!” he cried, falling to her side and gathering her closer. “No! Impossible!” He could not believe what he was seeing. The evidence had to be wrong. But his eyes would not soften the cruel marks that littered her form, the proof that he hadn’t been attacking an unseen villain, but rather beating her delicate body until the life left.
”Suffer,” a sinister laugh echoed through his mind as the grief overwhelmed him. ”Suffer, and suffer some more. Know that you killed her, that you are the one who ripped your own heart to shreds. You are responsible for this. Suffer for your sins… and do it again….and again… and again…”
Prince Pasvoli bolted upright, breathing quickly as his wide, pale blue eyes took in his bed room walls around him. His heart raced as though he had just run a marathon, and ached as though someone had stabbed it. The hollowness, he was used to. The emptiness was a constant companion. But this pain… this soul shearing pain… was something that only came once in awhile. Always after some horrible nightmare.
The same nightmare, he was sure, he’d just had. He tried to drag the details back to the forefront of his memory, but already it was blurring and fading away. But that pain… oh, that pain wouldn’t go away.
He stood shakily, frowning when he caught his reflection in the mirror. He was certain that some of the scars that showed on his body hadn’t been there when he went to bed the night before… ah, but he dismissed the thought from his mind quickly. A warrior prince such as he had been in many battles, protecting his people. He couldn’t be expected to remember where all of them came from.
Shaking the final strands of the nightmare away, the prince started for the door, determined to exercise the ache out of his chest. If he could just find something else to focus on, he would forget that he felt as though his heart had been ripped out and crushed. As he moved, however, something small and metallic bumped his hoof. With a frown, he bent to study the object more closely.
It was a lovely, simple ring that wove silver and gold together. And for some reason, though he had never seen it before, the sight of the ring broke his heart. He started to kick it away, unable to stand the sight of it and not knowing why, but his hoof stalled at the last second.
He couldn’t stand to see it, but he couldn’t bring himself to destroy it. What was the strange object? Shaking his head, he strung it on a chain and settled it around his neck, so it could rest near his empty heart.
Empty heart… one day, he told himself, one day he would find the mare who would fill that void. And maybe then, his chest wouldn’t hurt so much. Maybe he would stop having nightmares that left him feeling as though his heart had been crushed. One day…
~*~
“He still has the ring,” Prince Pasvoli’s chief advisor whispered after leaving his leader’s office. He spoke to his predecessor, the one who had warned him that this would happen one day.
“But he remembers nothing,” the old stallion croaked, shaking his head sadly. “He never remembers. Rest easy, my son. Another hundred years will pass before he seeks her out again. Another hundred years before we suffer this cycle again.”
“But the ring,” the advisor started, unable to accepet the tiny detail. It was common knowledge to all but the prince in question that he was cursed. For as long as Pasvoli had sat on the throne, he had been doomed to seek out his perfect mate, then kill her with his own hooves. Time after time, he was sentenced to live with the grief of what he had done. None were certain if it was a mercy that he didn’t remember why he felt such emptiness inside, or if it was just another cruel aspect of the curse.
But today, after the latest round, the prince had borne a sign of the last incarnation of his love. The ring he had given to her. Surely, the advisor hoped, that was a sign that the curse was weakening.
Maybe the next time he found her would be the last. Maybe their beloved prince would have his happily ever after. Or maybe it would be the death that would push too much sorrow on their leader, finally breaking him.
“Time will only tell,” the elder rasped, knowing what was going through the younger advisor’s mind. “And only time will tell. Once every hundred years, she is born. Once every hundred years, he kills her. Another hundred years of peace… before the curse starts again.”
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Posted: Sun Oct 30, 2011 6:37 pm
My Corrupted Prince
Username: vballlvr5
Name of Prince: Jordan
What memento/mementos does he have from princess/es: single black glove thing (not sure what is would be called for a horse not a leg warmer because it covers the part right above the hoof) that is a bit shredded/worn, black belt with red roses stitched on with a smal knife strapped to it, tattoo on front left (his left) part above hoof and, a strip of black cloth knotted around the top of his front left leg (sign of mourning), small black journal
Your Prompt:
Prince Jordan was the young son of King Brianth (Brian meaning high/noble). Brianth was aging but refused to leave the throne to his son until he found a suitable wife with whom he could a have an heir. Brianth swore that he would live as long as it took for his son to find a bride that could provide such while keeping the bloodline clean. Brianth was exceedingly focused on bloodline and so only a princess would due for his son. Fortunately, in a nearby kingdom there was an eligible princess named Bekah whom Jordan easily fell for. She was pure white with fiery orange hair matching her personality, quite refreshing from the other princesses he had seen. Like him, she was, as Brianth called it, dark, goth, punky and the like. Jordan rather disagreed, he just preferred thing darker rather than light, but his father's comments couldn't scorch him. He had followed his father's wishes and could ascend the throne once he and his betrothed were lifemated.
Bekah was the princess of a neighboring kingdom but she was only not considered queen because she too was yet unwed. Once the pair was lifemated they would be able to rule over both kingdoms together. Alas, Bekah and Jordan would never unite and neither would their kingdoms. During this time rumors of mutiny circulated through Princess Bekah's castle. Whisperings of assassination floated through the courtyards. Echoes of distrust rattled in the dungeons. One night Bekah arrived at Jordan's home uninvited and quite changed. He had no idea what happened to her but did notice that after this night they began growing apart. The lifemating ceremony's date began to be pushed back further and further until one sunny afternoon Jordan went to Bekah's grand castle. He was not allowed to see her, according to one of her servants she in 'one of her moods' which had become quite frequent. As he was shuffled off the palace grounds he encountered a young mare, a light olive color with a waving brown mane and tail. Jordan was immediately enchanted by her wit and charm. It was as if he was in a dream when he met her surreal and magical.
She was a mare of knowledge and learning. Her head always in a book, her brown eyes scanning the pages, or out examining everything she could find. Learning. Discovering. Feeling. He was mystified by one that could feel so much, his own lady to be had only a few focuses and he was never sure if one was him. He and the intellectual mare began to spend time together. Their relationship strengthening as his and Bekah's weakened. There was something about the olive mare that awed and astounded him. She loved life, nature, and all beings. She was artistic and through song, poetry, and painting she revealed the multitude of emotions that her body contained. One afternoon she and Jordan were sitting atop a knoll while the wind whistled through their manes. She laid across from him with paintbrush in her mouth. On his front left hoof she painted a small rainbow, for the happiness that they shared. A light but vivid blue heart was painted beneath, for the unique but wonderful love she felt for him. On either side of the heart was a lightning bolt, medium green in color, the electricity she felt when he was near, how her heart stopped beating when she saw him and he shocked it alive again. The stallion was surprised when he looked down, she couldn't have been dishonest in here art so what she drew must be true, and yet he looked at it in disbelief. Perhaps stunned, he didn't have the chance to ask her then though. For, as his gaze fell gently upon her beautiful form, and her deep eyes rose to look into his blue ones, the moment broke. A messenger had approached alerting Jordan of an attack on his lady to be's castle.
Duty called and he raced off, passing the messenger, to Bekah's home. It took a moment for what had transpired before she too raced off, the messenger by her side. Intruders had taken over the palace, no could get in or out, except for Jordan that is. The attackers claimed that he was the one they wanted and would release his betrothed if he came quietly. Despite his passion for the intellectual mare he was bound to be with Bekah, and he entered the castle through a back entrance. His guards had a strict order not to enter unless necessary. He climbed up the winding passage which led into a large parlor, Bekah was nowhere to be seen. Before Jordan could realize what was happening the opposing warriors were upon him, how he survived he was at first unsure until he realized that a small force of his stallions had snuck in after him. His side seemed ahead until a bright soquili zoomed into the room. It quickly fell several of his followers. A bright orange mane billowed about as it lunged, attacked, killed. It soon registered that the soquili was not a fighting stallion, but a mare, Bekah.
Jordan hadn't seen his betrothed for at least two weeks and the times that he had seen her before then were also infrequent and far between often lasting only an hour due to her 'condition.' She flashed about like lightning, laughing like a maniac the entire time. He was disgusted by her thrill of the kill. Jordan was quickly brought back to reality of an attacking stallion, once the opposition had been felled he looked to relocate his once love. He couldn't locate her until she was upon him, sneaking up from the side. "Miss me now Jordan?" she shrieked. "I missed you my love," she cried cackling. That was when Jordan noticed something different, outside of the psychopathic behavior that is. The foam around her once delicate mouth which was now snarling, had drawn his attention and inside of her mouth was a pair of small pointy teeth. Fangs. "How long have you been like this?" he questioned, concerned. "Why should you care?" she answered, sounding sane if a bit put off. "Maybe we can help you surely there is cure." "There isn't I've looked, but you wouldn't know that, you're never around and never cared to ask." Jordan was baffled how was he to know that his bride was suddenly a vampire? "Enough chat," she began again in her eerie voice, licking her lips, "I've missed you for so long dear, why don't we have dinner?" Before Jordan could reply he felt a burning sensation on his neck. She had bit him hard, and he was appalled that he could feel some blood draining from him. His mind was not functioning properly and he couldn't knock her off. Luckily, one in his entourage noticed and threw her to the floor. "Wait!" she whimpered pitifully as Jordan's savior approached her with a sword. "Why?"Jordan whispered not at her question but at the general circumstances. At that Jordan could bare it no longer and drove his sword through his fiancé's heart. The prince was rushed away for his wounds to be attended to.
Sadly, Bekah was quite correct there was no cure to his new literal thirst for blood. He was a monster. Permanently. Jordan tried at first to push the new mare in his life away. She wouldn't budge. He felt selfish doing so because he knew she loved him dearly and he was hurting her but he loved her so much he could only hold out against her presence for so long. Eventually he began to see her again and all too soon they were engaged. It was an untimely proposal as the two kingdoms were still in mourning, but he had never been affected by others opinions of him. Brianth only blessed their betrothal because once Bekah passed on, the brown mare took her place. It was her duty to as she was the leader scholar at that time and it was what one was to do in a time was crisis. It was a fortnight until their lifemating day and only a year after they had first met, yet they had grown older and wiser together. That afternoon they returned to the knoll where they had heard of the attack on the neighboring kingdom's palace, now the brown mare's kingdom, but not her palace. (The rooms there haunted her and she preferred a small nearby cottage.) The mare wistfully drew upon her love's hoof, as if subconsciously it was the same design she had drawn on him at the time of the call, everything was in the same location as if it had never washed off. They were both surprised, but the sun was setting and Jordan nudged his dear, "Why don't we go home, love?" As of late the mare had been staying at the stallion's castle. Jordan had craved blood ever since he had received the bite upon his neck, but when the mare staying at his castle (several rooms down of course) while her cottage was being constructed his desire was dampened. Logically, once they were betrothed he invited her to stay with him permanently. She wasn't quite ready to leave her sweet little home with its small pond, observatory and more so she stayed a few times a week and Jordan promised that they would soon have an observatory at their castle. With a nuzzle good night Jordan walked to the castle's west wing and the mare to the east, her room was adjacent to the mammoth library.
That night true fear jarred Jordan awake when he heard the yell of his love. By the time he and the castle guards reached her room she was gone and the soldiers outside her door dead, stabbed from behind. The prince numbly entered the chamber, there was a third body on the ground but he was not a guard. Jordan recognized him as one of the stallion that had fought against Jordan at Bekah's castle the night he was turned. Still naive to the large plot he searched the room. No one else remained but all of his mare's journals had been stripped of their pages, clean ones taken, filled ones tossed on the ground or now ashes in the hearth, the beautiful bindings too were taken. Jordan's blue eyes welled with tears when he saw her black belt, with delicate red rose embroidery, and her small knife attached to it sitting several feet from her bed. She had killed one soquili with her bare hooves, and could have likely held out against them until Jordan had arrived if the knife had been closer.
For two months Jordan mulled over what had transpired, each week being asked by a different advisor if he was ready to ascend the throne, for his father out of pity for his son's hardships condoned his ascension to power, and each week Jordan refused. After two months he decided that both mares had been hurt because of him, a large conspiracy against his kingship. He was correct, the assassination whispers were originally of him not of Bekah. Jordan had never removed his mourning band for Bekah, nor did he add one for his new loss for her body had never been found. He held out hope that she lived and in her memory had her doodle tattooed onto his hoof. Jordan also decided that he would not have peace until her slayers were slayed and he knew of her demise or lack thereof. In the night he snuck down to her room and donned her black belt and the tattered black glove he had found at the scene. It must have been ripped off in battle. Beneath the belt lay a squeaking board. He ripped it up and found below another book, a diary. It was modestly bound in black and contained her last journal entries before her kidnapping. The last one was dated as that dreadful night.
With his love gone his thirst went unsated and undampened and he left. He roams the night and drinks blood ever searching for his missing half. One that shocked green electricity through his body and made him feel alive. She has yet to be found.
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Posted: Sun Oct 30, 2011 8:11 pm
My Corrupted Prince
Username: Jynk
Name of Prince: Einherjar ("fallen warrior of Vahalla")
What memento/mementos does he have from princess/es: Shoulder armor (just on one side) from the fight to rescue her, the princess' bracelet as her token of love and his symbol of regret, and the cursed amulet from the evil queen
Your Prompt:
Einherjar was the pride of his kingdom. The only child and only heir to the throne, the young stallion had grown up in pampered luxury, learning both to rule a kingdom and to be a valiant warrior of his people. All he had known was life within the walls of the castle and surrounding village. For this reason, his father decided the prince should partake of a quest to prove himself worthy of the throne by more than just birth.
Upon the birthday that marked his official adulthood, his father called Einherhjar to the audience chamber to speak to him. "My son, though you are the only heir to the throne, I feel you have not experienced the world enough to rule our people. I am setting before you a quest, my son, to go forth and find the wife that will rule by your side when you ascend the throne. You must go far from our lands to new lands in search of a princess to bring home as your bride. You will leave this very day and return only when you quest has been completed."
The prince nodded his head. "Yes, sire. I will make you proud, I promise." He left the audience chamber and collected his belongings--some food for the trip, a map of the outlying lands, and some armor in case things ran afoul--and soon left the castle and kingdom in search of his bride-to-be. He searched the lands high and low over many days and nights. Sometimes he followed the sun to new destinations, and sometimes he walked away from it. For a year and a day he searched, but had found no signs of a princess that was available to return with him as his bride.
Eventually, he came to a village to get supplies and rest his weary hooves. While having a meal in the inn, he overheard others talking about a princess being held captive by an evil queen. He finished his meal and approached the Soquili to inquire about this story. They told him how the princess had been stolen away from her kingdom and ransomed by the evil queen in an attempt to take over the princess' land, but when her parents were unwilling to hand over their kingdom, the evil queen had destroyed the land and imprisoned the princess as punishment for her parents' foolishness.
This was good news, as it were, to Einherjar. Finally he had not only found a princess that would gladly join him in his kingdom as his bride, but her rescue would make a worthy quest to prove his worth to rule after his father. He spoke with the locals awhile longer, getting the location of the tower from them and rumors of the dangers involved, and then once again he returned to his journey.
It was another fortnight before he came to ravaged lands ruled by the evil queen and gazed at the tower in the distance. Steeling his nerve, he continued forward, making his way carefully to avoid the poisonous brambles and twisted forest creatures that lay between him and the princess. Only a few times, he found himself in battle against howling trees or ravenous mutated bears.
Bloody and torn, Einherjar finally stood before the tower entrance and gazed up at the dark structure before him. "Fear not, princess. I shall have you free soon."
Cautiously he entered the tower and began making his way up the stair quietly. Reaching the top, he crept toward the door and opened it slowly, peering in. Within stood a radiant creature of loveliness, a mare whose beauty had no equal. Yes, she would make a fine bride, and one day a queen to help him rule his people. The princess turned to see him standing there and gasped.
"It's alright, princess. I have come to rescue you and take you from this place," Einherjar told her, stepping forward bravely. "Come now and I'll take you to my kingdom and make you my bride."
"Yes, my prince," the princess said, coming forward, but then stopped, eyes wide with fear. "No, I cannot."
The prince snorted. "Because of your captor? I fear no queen."
"You should," came a voice oozing from the darkness. A black mare stepped forward, every bit the opposite of the princess. She was older, twisted, and the evil in her heard practically dripped from her very presence. "Did you really think to steal my property, little prince?"
"She doesn't belong to you," Einherjar said, stepping bravely in front of the princess. "She wants to leave with me."
The evil queen smirked. "Very well. Take her, then. Be rewarded for your heroism." She stepped aside and let the young couple pass.
Moving by the evil queen with caution, Einherjar escorted the princess out the door and down the steps, descending the tower to the exit. Behind them, the queen followed, watching the pair impassively, waiting.
At the tower's main door, the princess balked. "No, I cannot. You don't underst--"
"It's alright, my love," the prince interjected, nudging her to the door. He knew they had to leave before the queen changed her mind. "Once we're outside, you'll be free."
"Free," the princess repeated, looking out the door. She lowered her head and removed the bracelet from her foreleg, then moved to place it on the prince's own. "Whatever happens, remember me this way. Remember my love." As she said the last word, she stepped across the threshold to the outside.
The prince moved to follow and was stopped by the princess' blood-curdling scream, her body aging rapidly, withering before the prince's eyes. She shriveled and shrank, resembling a mummified creature before finally crumbling to dust. Einherjar moved forward. "No!"
Behind him came the cackling of the evil queen. "Fool. This is your reward. I've had her trapped in this place for centuries. Her freedom was her death and you brought that to her."
"You tricked me," the prince said, rounding on the evil queen. He changed his stance, preparing for battle.
"I did nothing of the sort. I only let you have your reward and her freedom. She was no longer entertaining to keep," the evil queen said, coming closer. "You, however, will be far more intriguing." Before the prince could react, the evil queen shouted a foreign word, entangling the young stallion in ropes of dark aether. "Now, now, young prince. Struggling just makes it worse." She spoke another foreign word and a necklace appeared around Einherjar's neck bearing a dark amulet.
"What are you doing?" Einherjar demanded, glowering at the evil queen.
"You were foolish and you only cared about your own needs, your own happy ending. You could have ended her curse, but now her curse shall be your own. Live forever, prince, young and beautiful and heartless and utterly alone," the evil queen answered, cackling. "I won't trap you here in this tower. You may go and wander, unable to complete your quest. You will never find love and never return home. Enjoy your fate."
Einherjar could only stare in horror as his bond slipped free and the queen disappeared into a dark mist. He blinked and stumbled backward out into the open. A few minutes of standing there and he realized he had not turned to dust as the princess had. He glanced down at his foreleg, at the bracelet there and sighed. He had been selfish, he had only thought of his own happy ending and never about that the princess might be cursed. He would bear that shame as much as the curse he now shared with his dead beloved. He could never go home, as much a prisoner to wandering the world as she had been in her tower, lost and alone forever.
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Posted: Sun Oct 30, 2011 8:36 pm
My Corrupted Prince
Username: stormflower
Name of Prince: Adonrian (tried to do a play on Adonis)
What memento/mementos does he have from princess/es: Old cracked and broken mirror at his feet, old dead rose petals(red and white or just red) falling around him and on his back next to a dead/dying red and white roses, antique cameo type locket sepia tone colors with a black ribbon that is starting to tear and has blood stains and has somewhat fresh blood on it hanging from his neck and a matching ribbon around his tail maybe.
Your Prompt:
First we must start towards the beginning, Adonrian was born to a very wealthy King and Queen who wanted for nothing therefore neither did he for a time. Shortly after his birth however his father mysteriously vanished to this day no one knows what happened....no one but the queen and Adonrian that is. In early adulthood his mother confided in him that she got rid of her dear husband though how she would not say. Apparently he wanted to take Adonrian away and raise him to be a grand knight hardly ever to see his mother.
This upset her greatly and she would not stand for her only child to be taken from her so she killed him, poison probably and no one was the wiser. She has since spoiled Adonrian to no end, not that he minded. He loved the attention and he loved his mother. Growing up he never had to ask for a thing and he grew up to be the 'fairest in the land'. To say the attention went to his head was an understatement. He always walked with his head high and a cocky smile, he was proud of how he looked and could care less about his father....he was NOT missed.
It was true Adonrian was rather vain and though it was widely known being a prince no one would say a word, but there was a deeper and darker secret he held, one he held for a long time since foal-hood. In truth as much as he was in love with himself he also found himself in love with the taste of blood.....how this erotic and odd pleasure came about no one is sure, but his mother didn't hesitate to feed his urges.
It didn't take long to find that he was partial to mares blood over stallions, but in his 'feeding' he was always careful not to kill his...'donors'. All was good in his world until he came to adulthood and his mother was getting ready to hand the kingdom over to him. She thought he was ready, but he didn't really care for it, he cared more about his looks and it was then a crack in his perfect world formed....his perfect face started to show sign of further age and heavens forbidden he had a wrinkle.
Sick with worry over his new found wrinkles he had no time to deal with his mothers coronation plans, he stood in front of the mirror all day trying everything he could think of to rid his face of the wrinkle on his brow. When nothing worked he sought medicine men and shaman in and around the village, but nothing worked it was then and old mare approached him, capped and walked slowly. She spoke of a secret method to stay young and beautiful....a way not many dare try....she told him that to drink the pure blood of princesses would keep one young and beautiful for many years. There was a catch however, he must not let the mare die from the 'extraction' and he must keep a memento or gift she personally gave him close to him at all times or else it would not work.
Adonrian stared at the old mare in disbelief, but she turned to leave without another word and as she did he caught a glimpse under her cloak of her neck and two puncture marks like his would leave...maybe her tail was true? He rushed home and told his mother to send out invites to the nearby kingdoms and to be sure to tell the princesses to bring gifts of their own choosing to present to him.
And so the pieces were set...and so the princesses came....the first to come was one of a snow white coat and long purple flowing mane. Hearing of his beauty and love of himself she brought him her own personal mirror for she too enjoyed keeping herself looking nice and could be vain as well, but she had a feisty side as well. She was also slightly ditsy but even when it came to the deed she seemed willing to it? She seemed to fancy him, made it a lot easier for him....the blood flowed like honey and it was indeed different the the peasants and servants that had been brought to him all those years.....it was a new feeling and he was hooked.
He almost lost himself as she fainted, but soon pulled away as a few loyal and silent servants took her to a sealed but comfortable chamber. He looked into the mirror the Princess had given him for a gift and sure enough the few wrinkles that had been upon his brow were gone. He was not sure how long the effects of the pure blood would last, but he wouldn't take a chance of it. The second princess would arrive within the next week or so.
When the second princess arrived the wrinkles were still gone, but he longed for the blood nonetheless. The second princess was stout and very strong, but poised. She had a black coat and medium blonde hair that was braided and fell to the side. She brought simple roses for her gift, red and white, but they happened to be the prince's favorite colors. She seemed like a hard one to take down, but she was very smart and inquisitive and enjoyed reading. He introduced her to the library and she read for hours until she fell asleep and though sheepish he bite her in her sleep...good thing she was a heavy sleeper. Again several servants took her to a locked but comfortable room for her stay.
It was a few days when the third princess arrived, red coat in color and black hair with white highlights that fell almost to the floor. She wore dark make-up and her gift was a cameo necklace fashioned into a black lace choker almost with a matching tail ribbon. She was a silent one...barely saying a word. He couldn't get much else of her personality as hard as he tried. He took her for a walk in the garden and attempted the deed, but she was quick on her hooves and jumped back and made the ridiculous accusation that he was a vampire or some nonsense.
She was younger and naive and had maybe read to maybe pre-teen novels and heard too many stories, but she soon took off through the garden. Though she may have been fast Adonrian was faster and when he caught her though she struggled he soon had her and the deed was finally done.....it wasn't until later that he realized that with this one he had gone too far....she was dead...what would mother say....
His mother was able to clean up Adonrian's mess and sent the dead Princess's couch back empty to be re-routed somewhere. That way it can be said she left there but if she didn't make it home, well something happened afterwards perhaps? The second princess was given a drought that made her dream a terrible dream in case she might have remembered anything and she was sent home none the wiser. The third princess though remembered everything wished to stay and whether it was to be Adorian's queen or not she wished to stay at least for a time....she said she too had a dark secret that no one at home knew of not even her parents.....but maybe she'd be able to share it with them one day....For now she'd be Adonrian's willing blood donor when he needs it if he'd have her.
Adonrian did like the offer, he found her blood to be the tastiest of the three and she appreciated her looks and his own, ofter all she gave him a mirror so tat he can look at himself. He decided she could stay with them and it would be less hassle....and so the bloody story goes....Will Adonrian soon be ready to take the thrown?
((Omg...I was going to do that so much better but brain fail))
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Posted: Sun Oct 30, 2011 9:31 pm
My Corrupted Prince Username: Angelique DelaMort Name of Prince: Dysdaimon – meaning ill-starred What memento/mementos does he have from princess/es: From his travels this prince carries a scar from burns around his eyes after an unfortunate incident with a scorned princess and embers from a fire. He also wears a luxurious black cloak and onyx gauntlet, both adorned with the ancient egyption symbol of life, the ankh. Your Prompt: For You, Anything A long time ago in a kingdom far away, there lived a handsome prince named Dysdaimon who, like so many other handsome princes, was a good, kind-hearted man who ruled over his realm with strength and compassion, just as his father and grandfathers had done before him. He resided in a beautiful place where his loyal subjects often gathered for joyous celebrations to honor their prince and peaceful kingdom. While everyone in the kingdom was very happy, they could not help but notice something was missing from their perfect picture. There was no fair maiden to stand by Dysdaimon, the prince was missing a bride. Concerned by this obvious glare on their family image, his father King Meddler called his son into his chambers one day. “Dysdaimon, you must see that I grow old. See how my mane and tail are gray and how long my teeth appear? I’ve not much time left here in this world and I would like to leave it secure in the knowledge that our family will continue as it has for 100 years, ruling over these lands with the same perfection for the next 100. To do that you must have a son of your own! And naturally, that must follow having found a wife. But a word of caution I must give, be certain your bride is the right one. She must be everything that a lady should be. Beautiful, accomplished, well-spoken, have a certain special something all their own and most importantly dedicated to you and you alone – those are the traits of the perfect woman. Anything less could jeopardize our rule, and throw the kingdom into complete chaos. Now you must make ready to go, you leave tomorrow as the sun rises!” And that is how without ever having a chance to speak a word or share his mind, the prince was unceremoniously whisked from his father’s presence and found himself standing in the cold corridors of the castle trying to figure out exactly what had happened. As he slowly walked through the halls, each hoof step echoing around him, he happened to stumble upon a servant girl. Well, that wasn’t really an appropriate description. You see, this servant girl was Cordeilla and she had lived at the castle as long he had. They’d been born within months of each other and, since there weren’t many children in the castle, had been each other’s constant companions. Although in recent years their relationship was different, she’d grown quiet around him. Dysdaimon figured it was because he was taking on more princely duties and she was now a member of the staff. Still, that didn’t stop him from talking to her and he really needed to talk to someone now. “Good day, Cordeilla,” he said with as much cheer as he could muster considering his perplexing situation. “Good day, your highness,” she said quietly as she dropped into a curtsy. Dysdaimon sighed, “’Deilla, you know you don’t have to do that…” “Yes, I do, you’re the prince and-“ “And you’re my best friend,” he cut her off. “And I could really use a friend right now. Could you spare some time for me?” he tried to keep his features nice and casual but it didn’t really matter, ‘Deilla had always been able to read him like a book. “For you, anything,” she said slipping the broom she’d been using into a nearby storage room. When she returned the prince found himself struggling to figure out how to put the entire situation into words. After standing there for a few moments in silence Cordeilla gently suggested, “Have you had the pleasure of seeing the gardens this evening, your highness? The flowers are almost all in bloom and it makes a beautiful sight.” “Um, no,” he said slowly catching on. “I haven’t, but maybe you’d be so good as to show me?” “Of course,” she said leading the way. *************************************************** “…And that’s why I have to leave tomorrow,” the prince concluded pawing anxiously at the grassy ground. Throughout the entire telling of his tale Cordeilla had listened quietly and patiently, letting him vent out the frustrations that had been mounting as he considered his father’s words. “But how am I supposed to find this ‘perfect’ bride? I don’t think I know any women that meet all of my father’s qualifications. But I couldn’t bear disappoint him. It’s just…I think he’s given me an impossible task.” “Impossible or not,” Cordeilla said after a time. “You must at least attempt. Maybe you’ll find someone nice?” “You think?” he asked giving her a skeptical look. “It couldn’t hurt to try,” she suggested softly. “Well, Father’s sending our top advisors with us, will you come too? I’m sure we can find some type of official job for you or something…” “I don’t think ‘best friend to the Prince’ counts as a position,” she said shaking her head. “But still – Come with me?” “I can’t,” she said empathetically, and raised a hoof when he started to protect. “You are my prince and I would do anything for you, but do not ask me to do this.” Cordeilla continued in a more gentle tone, “You will be fine. Just find someone who makes you happy, that’s all you need.” *************************************************** It was early the next morning when Prince Dysdaimon joined his father and the handful of selected advisors and servants that would be joining him for the journey. It was with only a few words of encouragement that the King sent his oldest son off. Feeling alone for the first time in his life, Prince Dysdaimon stepped boldly into the unknown world that surrounded his kingdom. However, he quickly discovered that his apprehension was unfounded. The first noble lady’s land that he visited was nice enough, but she seemed to lack the complete list of essential qualities that his father demanded. After a time he bid her farewell and traveled on to the next noble woman’s realm, but found her also wanting. On and on he went until he found himself far beyond the reach of his father’s kingdom and still no closer to finding his princess. It was in this dark, unfamiliar land that one of their servants was suddenly stricken with a strange and unknown illness. Strange circular wounds appear on his form, many seemed focused on his neck while his body grew feverish and weak. Seeking shelter and help for his suffering man, Dysdaimon stumbled upon a great stone manor house, set back and hidden among the trees. The owner of this house was a beautiful woman. Golden blonde ringlets cascaded down to her back to elegantly frame a face with entrancing violet eyes. Dressed in rich crimson silks and wrapped in an aura of mystery was this woman who introduced herself as Lady Larker. Upon seeing the injured servant she quickly admitted them and tended to the man’s wounds herself. The prince was amazed and praised her for her abilities and gentle bedside manner. “Thank you, kind sir,” she said demurely as she applied a damp, cold cloth the servant’s fevered forehead. “I’ve always had a certain talent for dealing with these types. It is a gift of sorts. But I’m afraid there is little I can do for him now. We must wait and see if the fever breaks. In the meantime, you and your people are welcomed to reside here. We have plenty of room and I will personally see that you are all taken care of.” Unable to refuse such a generous offer, and more than slightly intrigued by the striking mistress of the house, Dysdaimon agreed and soon found himself settled into a comfortable room. Most evenings he enjoyed his host’s company and found her to be an intelligent and well-spoken woman. They talked of many things from history to literature, sharing insight and experiences. However the delight the found in each other’s conversations was darkened as the prince’s servant succumbed to his mysterious illness and died. Before he was cold in his grave, two more of the prince’s party were suffering from the enigmatic disease. Though the Lady Larker tended to them throughout the day and into the long nights, none of her efforts seemed to stay off the infection. One by one the prince’s servants and advisors all fell to the disease, showing the tell-tale signs of the red wounds, until finally the prince himself found the strange marks on his neck. Even as Lady Larker sat by his side and tended him day and night, the prince grew weaker and weaker. On the night he felt he would surely die, Lady Larker quietly whispered to him in the dark, “I’ve done all that is earthly possible for you, my lord, but I fear you will not make it through the night.” “I thank you…” he managed slowly. “For all you’ve done. I am-“ he struggled to pull a breath into his weakened body. “So sorry for this. I thought that maybe you could be…” his vision was growing cloudy making it so all he could see were soft blurs in the candle light. “You were the princess I was meant to find…” “Do you really mean that, Dysdaimon?” Larker asked in a hushed voice. “Because there is one more thing I may yet do. But should I succeed, you must vow to stay with me always, do you swear that, Prince Dysdaimon?” Her fevered words made little sense but the prince shook his head slowly, a last desperate grasp for life before the whole world went black. *************************************************** When the prince awoke the next day his found a strange metallic taste in his mouth, but all of his other maladies were mysterious healed. The wounds that speckled his body were as if they’d never been and while his skin still bore the pallor of his illness, he seemed in all other ways rejuvenated. “It’s a miracle,” he said rising slowly, feeling stronger than he ever had in his life. “It’s my gift to you,” Lady Larker said stepping forward and nuzzling him. “I am so very glad to see you fairing so well tonight my prince.” “It is all due to you and your wonderful talents,” he said freely returning the affection. “I do not know what you did to me, but I have never in my life felt so alive!” He looked around with what seemed to be new eyes, taking in all the little details from the soft flickering of the candle light to the shimmering of the moonlight reflecting off a spider web hanging in the window. And it was not just his eyes that were seeing by a new light, his other senses seemed much improved as well. He could swear he heard the light footfalls of a mouse creeping through the corridor outside. “This is remarkable,” he said softly. “Come,” Lady Larker said pulling him along with her to the door. “You must feed to keep up your strength. I have prepared a very special dinner for you this night. We must keep you strong, I would not like to see you relapse.” And the dinner was very good. A rich soup that seemed to have almost a hint of the taste that Dysdaimon found in his mouth as he woke, but so happy was the prince to simply be alive that he paid no heed to it. Nor did he notice with his enhanced senses the bandage encircling the lady’s foreleg. *************************************************** Two weeks after his sudden recovery found the prince gazing out the front window of the house wondering when his father’s envoy would arrive. He’d written to them as soon as he was well enough to announce the joyous news that he had found his bride (and to inform the families of his companions of their unfortunate demise). For the first time in weeks he thought of Cordeilla and wondered what she would think of his bride to be. They would, perhaps not get along well, he realized for the first time, because there could not be two more different mares in the world than his dear friend and his fiancée. Cordeilla was quiet and subdued in so many ways with her dark tresses and mild manner, always willing to listen to anything and everything he could say, her pale blue eyes occasionally lighting up with mirth or warming with compassion. The soon to be Princess Larker was more expressive, to be certain. She enjoyed the best things life could offer her and lived a lavish lifestyle. He had discovered in the last few weeks that she danced, sung, and could even play a few instruments. She knew she was exceedingly pretty and enjoyed appearing to her best advantage… “I’m so glad you appreciate me,” Larker said smiling in the archway that led to the room, but there was something steely under her sweet exterior. “But my love, you must answer me a question,” she said crossing the room to his side and nuzzling his neck breathing her words into his skin. “Who…is Cordeilla?” Dysdaimon drew back in shock. “What-“ he said in disbelief. “How do you know about her?” She shrugged nonchalantly, “Call it woman’s intuition. Now who is she, my dear prince?” “A friend,” he answered still puzzled how Larker had come to know that name. He was certain he’d never mentioned her while on his journey nor in any of his letters. “Did I say her name when I was with fever?” “Should you have?” Larker asked arching an eyebrow. “Must be a very good friend for you to call out her name…” “Oh,” he said beginning to comprehend his princess’s icy response. “No, you misunderstand. We have known each other since we were children. She is my dearest of friends-” “And you care about her,” Larker finished, her violet eyes growing dark. “Well yes, but not like that,” he added quickly. “Oh, then you love her like a sister,” the lady suggested keenly. “Well, I mean…she’s my best friend. She was my constant companion growing up and the only one I could ever talk to…” he smiled at the memory of their many long chats, usually about his concerns that he would never live up to his father’s standards. He always seemed to feel better after talking to her. “But that role will fall to your wife once we are married,” Larker said in a soft, yet firm voice. “Now, the reason I came to see you. I have a gift for you, dear Dysdaimon.” She presented a pair of onyx gauntlets, trimmed in ornate silver symbols and a long black clock with a matching clasp. “Battle ware fit for a king, don’t you think? Here, let me put them on for you.” As she set about strapping the shielding to his forelegs he took the time to peer closer at the design. “What are these markings?” he asked tilting his head as she fastened the clasp. “I am not familiar with them.” “It’s called an ankh,” she responded stepping back to admire at her work. “It represents ‘life’ in a far off culture. Do you like them?” “I do very much,” he responded smiling. “So you have given me life once again?” “And shall continue to do so for all our nights,” she said nuzzling him. “And days too, I should hope!” *************************************************** A few weeks later Dysdaimon was still waiting for any word from his father. Though he knew he was far from home, it was strange for his father not to send any message at this point. The prince was also concerned by the behavior of his bride to be. Ever since that strange night when she seemed to just pluck Cordeilla’s name from the air she had been acting…different. Sometimes it was barely noticeable, just a strange look that crossed her face when she thought he wasn’t looking or a darkness that seemed to swirl just below the surface of her eyes. But something had changed and it concerned him, but didn’t bother him nearly as much as the name thing. “Dark thoughts,” she asked him casually across the dinner table. “Such a scowl is hardly worthy of a man soon to be married.” “Lady Larker you must be honest with me in this,” he said determined to get an answer. “How was it you knew Cordeilla’s name? I have thought and thought on it and I know I have never mentioned her since I came to this house.” “If you want, I will be honest with you in everything, my love,” her voice had a smooth inviting quality to it, but something about it set the prince slightly on edge. “All you have to do is ask, but beware you cannot take back such a request.” “Of course I want honesty,” he said without thought or hesitation. “I could live with nothing less.” “Then if you must know my love, without me you could not live at all,” she said plainly. “And do not think it is merely because I ‘healed’ you. To be entirely truthful I was the one who placed that malady upon you and every one of your party.” The prince’s mouth hung open, unable to process what he was hearing, “Wha- how? Why…why would you do that?” “Well to get you here of course!” she said beaming at you. “From the moment I saw you I knew you were perfect. So strong and handsome, I’ve been waiting for someone like you all my life. I couldn’t let you just walk away. A single servant was enough to deliver you to me and after that I had to ensure that you remained. One by one they fell until you alone were left for me.” “But you infected me too…” he said with disbelief. “Of course, how else could I make you mine for all time?” she crossed the distance between them, running her lips along his neck, knowing he couldn’t move even if he wanted to. “You must first die before you can live forever.” She pulled away, an eerie light shining from her eyes, “And that’s what I’ve given you, eternal life. There is a small cost of course. Normal food will no longer sustain you, I’m afraid you will need a more substantial diet. So far I have been providing it,” she indicated to her foreleg wrapped in creamy white bandages. “But soon we will need fresh meat, so to speak. I thought perhaps we could go to your kingdom…” “No!” he cried out. “I could never allow you anywhere near my kingdom. Not after what you’ve done!” “What I’ve done?” she echoed. “But believed Dysdaimon, you must see. I did it all for you! For love of you I killed those men, and destroyed your letters, and of course, saved you so that we may live together forever. Everything I’ve done has been for your sake, to show that I was devoted to you above all else, that I am your Perfect Princess!” “Unholy one, you are a monster! You killed all my companions, my servants and advisors, you turned me into some abomination that has to eat only…” he faltered unable to say the words. Lady Larker blanched, “You…do not appreciate me?” “I think you are horrid,” Dysdaimon spat seeking out the nearest escape route. “Horrid!” she shrieked, fangs exploding from her mouth and eyes blazing red. “You obviously can’t see true love when it’s looking right at you….” Her eyes drifted to the blazing fireplace at the center of the room. “So I think you should never see anything again!” she screamed as she moved with an unnatural speed and kicked the embers up into the prince’s face. Dysdaimon cried out as the world disappeared in a bright flash replaced by unfathomable darkness. He felt himself slam against a wall and felt the hot breath of the demon on his skin. “Death is too good for the likes of you,” Larker hissed in his ear. “But I have something even better. You will live in the state which I have wrought, but you will be cursed as well. You will never find happiness and everyone you love, your friends, your family, they will share in your pain and be your suffering. Consider that my wedding present to you, beloved. Now sleep, when you awake, the nightmare begins!” *************************************************** “Dysdaimon? Desdaimon, please wake up!” The prince heard the voice calling him from far away. It took much effort, but he struggled to reach that voice beseeching him. “Lady Larker?” he said trying to open his eyes. “Where am I? Why is it so dark? Please light a candle, the dark unsettles me now.” “I am sorry my prince,” said the voice, it still sounded faint. “I do not know who this Lady Larker is. You are home, though how you came to be here we do not know. If you do not recognize this voice it is your old friend Cordeilla, who has been very worried about you.” “Cordeilla,” he sighed with relief. “Then it was just a dream, none of it was real. ‘Deilla, why are we sitting in the dark. Light a candle.” “My lord,” her soft voice shook as she spoke. “It is noon, the room is flooded with light but your eyes…” The fire! he thought suddenly. Then it was all real…But how? It was then that he recognized the familiar metallic taste in his mouth. “Cordeilla, how long have I been home?” he asked trying to get up. The effort left him dizzy. “Almost a month,” she said quietly. “For the longest time you appeared as if you were dead, barely breathing. We tried everything we could think of to rouse you but nothing worked.” “Obviously something worked since I am speaking with you now,” he said impatiently. “Cordeilla, you must tell me!” “I received a strange message,” her voice was a timid one. “So unbelievable that I dared not share it with anyone, let alone believe it. But as the weeks went on and you showed no sign of improvement I grew desperate. I couldn’t just let you die…” “Death would be a mercy for me,” he said softly. “You fed me blood, didn’t you?” He heard her gasp, “How did you know?” “Who’s blood? Who do I owe this debt to? One of the other servants?” he demanded. “No,” she said, her voice sounding far away. “The message was very clear, it could not be just any blood. It had to be the same as the blood that coursed through your veins. A family member’s blood was the only thing to revive you.” “Then my father…” he said slowly. “Or my young brothers, please tell me they did not suffer for this.” “They did not,” she answered. “Nor did the king. I told you, I could not share that message with anyone.” “But it had to be family!” he said. “Who was it?” “Your half-sister,” she answered weakly. “No one else would do, we could not lose the king, nor the young princes. And waking you did require so…so much blood. Besides, no one will miss a b*****d servant girl.” “Cordeilla, no!” he said reaching out, searching for her in the darkness. He found her form slumped beside him. “Why would you do this?” “Because for you, I would do anything…”
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Posted: Sun Oct 30, 2011 10:03 pm
My Corrupted Prince Username: XBlind-DarknessXName of Prince: Prince Craevan Evarcrest What mementos does he have from princesses: Flowers of the Nightshade bush, Armor of the finest silver, and a heavy piece of deep purple cloth.Your Prompt: Leave Nothing to Chance Craevan’s father had decided that leaving everything up to chance was the best way to live. He wished to eliminate all shades of gray and just live within the realm of black and white. In his mind this simplified everything. No longer would one toss ideas of a million different types back and forth within their mind, growing more confused and frustrated with each new thought, they would be given two answers to choose from, no more, no less. If a battle with another clan was to ensue it would either be one of two things: go, or don’t go. There would be no more of this hashing it out for months trying to decide what the best option would be, in Tharow’s opinion this caused a lot of grief over something that was seemingly simple.
Though Craevan could see some wisdom in his father’s decision he knew that not all things could be decided with a 50/50 chance. Sometimes the gray area was the most important of all, for seeking out the best answer in a fog was well worth the journey and stress. Even so, he was only prince and therefore obligated to follow the word of his great father. His system had served the citizens well, or so he thought, but Craevan knew it was only a matter of time before the odds would turn against them and chance would deal them an unfavorable hand. The herd opposed the coin, knowing it to be a source of darkness. Once it had slighted them by telling the king to not grow extra grain and that winter they nearly starved. This was the first sign of things to come…
~~~
The herd had gathered around the tower of stone Craevan’s father had nicknamed the castle. Their mouths were set in firm lines and their muscles rippled with unpleasant tension. Though they harbored no ill will toward the son of the ignorant father they couldn’t help but scowl at him as he approached the large stallion. Each of them knew what Craevan knew; it was only a matter of time before something horrible would happen. He looked over each of them as he walked by, taking note of their sour expressions and wishing he could share his own with them, be one of them scowling up at a king who left them in the hands of chance. He loved his father dearly but he was very concerned with the outcome of every decision made based on the flipping of a coin his father had found as a result of humans passing through the land. The prince had known long ago that the humans possessed great power and were meant to be feared, not considered gods who had gifted the heard with the power of choice.
“My son,” Tharow’s booming voice echoed over the whisperings of the herd, “it is proper time you find yourself a princess to call your own. I believe I have much time left to rule, or so the coin has told me but I believe having you settle down with a suitable mare will bring peace to your mind and to the minds of those inhabiting our kingdom.”
Craevan’s ears flicked back as he heard mumbles of protest echoing throughout the herd, it seemed that none of them agreed with such a foolish statement. They knew how the princess was to be chosen and all agreed it was a terrible way to choose the mare that would one day sit beside their future king. He could feel their eyes burrowing into his back, their minds waiting for him to protest, to make a change to this system but he had no intention of doing so for he still respected his father and knew himself to be helpless as a mere prince.
“The coin and I have narrowed it down to two possible princesses for you to choose from.” He continued. “Aramella and Oliviera please step forward and present your gifts for the choosing.”
Craevan’s eyes squeezed shut as his father uttered the power of the coin once more and he allowed for a silent sigh to release from his lungs. The king spoke as though the coin were some mystical being he had acquired, one who would never lead him astray and who would always remain by his side. The truth was, that piece of metal was worth nothing. It had caused much pain, more so than those in the herd would ever know. Every piece of Craevan’s life had been decided by that pathetic piece of metal. It had decided what books he would read, what friends he would have, what punishment he would get for acting out and what life he should lead. He hadn’t even noticed the two mares stepping up behind him during his rant until his father cleared his throat and tossed his head impatiently.
As Craevan turned his liquid blue eyes fell upon two of the most beautiful mares he had ever seen. It was obvious they were not from this herd but from some of the neighboring herds. Each of them had their head bowed, flowing curls of gold and silver falling from their heads. One was a beautiful black color and the other was a light gray. Both of them looked up at him at the very same moment and he was met with eyes of amethyst and emerald.
“Craevan, the black female is Aramella and the gray is Oliviera. The coin has chosen the daughter of the head of the forest clan and the daughter of the mountain clan. Observe their gifts before we allow the coin to make the decision for you.”
He clenched his teeth at hearing the name of the coin once more, he was asked once by his friend Arcos why he never rebelled against the idea of human waste choosing their lives and he simply shrugged. When he became king he would certainly do away with the coin but for the moment he would not oppose his dear father for he thought it to be out of place. Shaking his head he focused on the gifts that lay at the feet of the mares. Aramella, the black mare with golden hair and amethyst eyes presented him with what looked like strange flowers, silver armor, and a long piece of deeply dyed purple fabric. She smiled at him as he looked over her gifts but something in the back of his mind told him there was something off about her. Returning her welcoming gesture he turned to look at the gifts presented by Oliviera. By her feet lay a rock with strange carvings on it, circles that joined together in the center as well as what looked to be snow in a silver chalice, and a blade with the same markings as the stone. Moving his eyes from the gifts he looked into her emerald gaze and felt instantly at ease. If it were not for the choosing ceremony starring the coin, he would have chosen Oliviera without hesitation.
“Now that the gifts have been recognized by my son the prince the choosing ceremony shall begin! Aramella you shall be the side of the coin that depicts an owl and you Oliviera shall be the side that displays the phoenix.”
Craevan had spent much time staring at that blasted coin; he had memorized the etchings on each side. The big eyed owl taunting him and the blazing phoenix threatening to incinerate every piece of his body. His father had come to know them as symbols for wisdom and strength, neither trait, it seemed, he possessed. He sighed deeply as he watched his father throw back his head and project the gilded circle into the sky. His breath caught in his chest as he watched the tiny sparkling object twist and turn and on each movement he wished harder and harder that it would land on the side of the phoenix. Something was wrong with Aramella, he didn’t know what it was but something in her eyes told him she was no good. Oliviera seemed gentle and kind and the interlocking circles on the gifts she presented seemed significant somehow.
He was again lost in thought when he heard a tiny ringing sound as the coin touched back down to earth and landed on the flat rock his father used as an altar. All of the prince’s trusted servants standing about him looked to him. Their eyes warm and supportive but worried at the same time. Though he had not been made to go out and search for his love he wished for their support now more than ever before. They believed in him, trusted him, and often told him that he would be a far better king than his father.
“Aramella! You shall be the queen of this land once I pass but for now you shall remain by my son as the princess of these lands.”
The mare’s smile grew large and in an ugly fashion as Craevan looked from Oliviera to his new bride to be. His heart grew cold in his chest as he knew chance had gone against him yet again. Something within him told him that Aramella would be the downfall of the kingdom but still he did not protest.
~~~
That night he stood in the grove of trees that was his chamber, his eyes fixed on a trunk as he thought about what had occurred on this day. His life had been chosen for him once again and there was nothing he could do about it. Pressing his forehead against the tree he cursed his rotten luck until he heard the sound of soft hoof prints on grass and turned to see Aramella approaching him at a slow pace.
“Good evening my prince.” She greeted softly.
“Good evening.” He responded cooly.
He watched as she walked around the perimeter of his chamber and came to rest against a tree not too far away from him. Her amethyst eyes focused on him and he couldn’t help but feel chills running down his spine.
“Why did you not protest the choosing ceremony? Anyone looking closely enough at your face could tell you disapprove of this method.”
His ears perked at her question and he nearly choked. Had he been so obvious?
“It is not my place, as prince I am to sit quietly and listen. To tear at his methods would be out of my realm of power.”
Her amethyst eyes moved smoothly over him, taking stock of how he wore her gifts and smiling. He did look dashing with the silver armor about his chest and legs, and the purple flowers of the nightshade bush in his hair. Even the deep purple cloth that hung about his body was appealing.
“You are a coward and should be punished for your inaction.”
Craevan’s eyes shot up from the ground and glared back into her’s.
“How so?”
“You do not act though you know this method causes suffering, I am the worst choice there is for a queen for I care not of the plights of others nor their feelings. The coin allowed me in this far only because of how it was thrown and because the one throwing it was not stopped. You knew this was wrong, you often complained about it but you never acted against it! You allowed the destruction of yourself and your kingdom to come waltzing in through the front gates because you didn’t think it was your place to stop your father!”
She laughed evilly and before Craevan could speak again she shook out her long curls and smirked.
“Each of the items I have given you belongs to a spell, a spell designed to make you pay for your inactivity. The nightshade will forever keep you in the darkness, the armor will forever remain cold, and the cloth will serve as your burden. You shall crave the blood of the suffering, because through your inactivity you have condemned them all to death! Be proud cowardly prince for never again will you be normal! These lands will be mine and you will be exhiled, never permitted to return again. Take solice in the fact that I find you attractive and therefore am being lenient.” She cackled wickedly.
The story goes on to tell how Aramella destroyed the kingdom and how Craevan’s bloodlust grew so great he killed all of the servants loyal to him and even his own father. When he once again looked in the mirror he saw fangs gleaming in the darkness and blood painting his features. The moral of this story ladies and gentleman is that when you know something to be wrong, do not stand by and simply let it happen. Never be content sitting on the sidelines and dreaming only of fixing the problem in the future. Leave nothing up to chance, and always respect the gray area for it teaches us much about ourselves and life. Act now or live a cursed life like that of Craevan Evarcrest.
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Posted: Mon Oct 31, 2011 8:29 am
My Corrupted Prince
Username: LydaLynn
Name of Prince: Serkan
What memento/mementos does he have from princess/es: A rag doll, a single tear on a long strand of black hair, a black velvet cape.
Your Prompt:
Serkan was ready to find his happily ever after. He had studied history and war, laws and sport. He hunted small game and sparred with instructors. He did everything that was expected of a Prince. But he also read. Serkan had found a love for books when he was still a foal and had never grown out of it. He knew all the stories in the castle library, and to a one they all had a happily ever after. For a Prince, happily ever after meant finding his princess, through various trials, and marrying her.
So Serkan called upon his most loyal subjects and gave them instructions. He had spend the previous day reading through all the stories and seeing all the trials that could await him, he determined to be ready. So he took with him food and supplies, rope and lantern, sword and mirror, magnet and comb, and all manner of things that might prove useful. And two trusted manservants to carry his things and aid in his journey.
And so Serkan journeyed throughout his kingdom looking for a suitable princess. For he knew, that in stories a Prince would often find a common born princess. But there were no pretty, young and noble mares unmated in his land. In fact, there were only three mares in all the kingdom who were not mated or promised in mating.
The first was a young filly. Her coat a brilliant gold in the autumn sunlight as she shyly hid behind her mother when the Prince came calling. She smiled, but didn't understand the words of the adults around her. Serkan felt for the young foal, but she was not his princess. Wanting to ensure she had every opportunity, he left for her a bit of gold and a beautiful mirror, telling her to remember always that she was beautiful, but that true beauty comes from within. He wasn't certain she understood what he had said, but felt he had done the best for her. As he was leaving she overcame her shy nature and ran to stop him. Silently, she gave him her rag doll with a smile. "So you don't get lonely," she told him before bolting back to her mother.
The second unmated mare was quite lovely, and exactly the right age. She was soft and kind and her black coat was like glossy velvet. Serkan loved her long mane and tail and wanted nothing more than to take her as his princess. But, he noticed, waiting in the background, another stallion. The mare stole glances at the strange stallion and it was quickly apparent that though she was not mated, she was in love. With a sigh, Serkan nodded. "You have another promise to keep. I will not take you from that." He gave her a golden comb and a bit of silver. Her heart filled with joy that she could have the stallion she wanted, the mare shed two tears. As a thank you, she pulled a strand of her long black hair and caught one of the tears, stringing it on the hair for him to wear about his neck. "To remind you that love is worth all the castles in the world." Touched, Serkan said nothing as he turned to go.
The last mare in the kingdom was old. She had been alone all her life and many spoke of her with whispers and fear. They said she was a witch. But Serkan was determined to find his princess. With trepidation he traveled the briar lined path through the woods to her manor. It had been long since anyone had visited the mare, but he would not leave anyone out in his search. The place was dark and the trees around it were dead. But Serkan was not deterred. His servants, on the other hand, were terrified.
Allowing them to wait outside, Serkan walked to the door alone. As time passed after his knock he began to wonder if there really was anyone here at all. Then the door opened. The smell of musty rot and dust rolled out as the hinges protested unaccustomed movement. A chill ran down his spine as he tried to see the mare in the doorway. The light of the sun didn't penetrate the dark interior and as his eyes slowly adjusted, Serkan drew in a breath of surprise.
A beautiful red coat framed by a black mane and tail with eyes deep as a well was not the wrinkled old crone he expected. She was stunning. Her smile slow and measuring as she looked at him. Serkan blinked, once. The silence stretched between them as his mind caught up to his shattered expectations. Finally he managed, "I am Prince Serkan. I am looking for my Princess." His breath caught, "are you her?" Her laughter was like the ringing of bells. "Ah, young stallion, you offer me much. But you will grow old an die, why would I have such as you?"
Serkan nodded, he did not understand her words, but knew they made sense. "I have nothing to offer but my heart, my lady. And it is a small offering for such beauty."
"Your heart? Offer accepted!" And Serkan was suddenly whisked into the castle, the door shut behind him. He remembers little of what happened next, knowing only that it was the most pleasure and the most pain he had ever felt. When he awoke it was dark outside and his servants were pounding on the door. Staggering to his feet, Serkan moved to open the door and let his servants in, but when he saw them, he was overcome with a hunger unlike any he had ever known.
He has never left the manor, never returned to his castle or his kingdom. He spends his days wandering the empty house, wondering where it's owner went. And his nights he spends hunting, a much more dangerous game than in his youth. And if that section of the woods is called cursed and none dare to venture into it, he rests easier. No matter his new nature, he has a gentle soul and does not like the need to hunt and kill to eat. The only things that bring him comfort are the doll, which listens to all his heartache. The tear, which reflects the image of the mare who took his heart. And the black velvet cape 'his Princess' left behind.
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Posted: Mon Oct 31, 2011 9:12 am
My Corrupted Prince Username: JetAlmeara Name of Prince: Contagion What memento/mementos does he have from princess/es: A silver bloodstained traveling cloak lined in fur with a silver moon and star clasp. A star bangled silver leg wrap and a glowing moon glyph etched on stone. Ref. Your Prompt:A Deadly Mistake
The Story of a Princes downfall..or rising He had known that she was the perfect choice almost the moment he'd laid eyes on her a decision which might seem shallow at first glance but really wasn't – the pale palomino mare had been sweetly nuzzling one of her family's foals at the time and that more then anything else told Prince Axel that not only was the mare beautiful..but sweet and kind as well. The perfect princess for him to bring home to his own Kingdom..and the perfect end to what had been a long and trying journey. He had not expected the journey to take quite so long to be truthful, he'd hoped to be home by summers end but summer had quickly turned to fall and now they stood nearly on the brink of winter and found themselves many long miles away from the home they had left. His entourage was weary and more then once had encouraged their Prince to choose one of the many mares he had met along the way. Prince Axel had shaken his head at each suggestion however..the black mare to the south had been beautiful but was far to shy, the dapple gray to the west seemed sweet at first glance but Axel had detected more then once a tinge of anger in the mare...which was not something he desired to bring home to his own peaceful lands. No...none of them had been what the stallion was looking for. None of them until now. The Lady Aquene was everything Axel had been searching for, she was fair of looks with a golden hide, billowing white mane and four long white stockings, sweet of temper and kind of heart – just the sort of Princess that his people could look upon with love and warmth. Despite his guards hurry to be home Axel had taken his time in courting the mare, the stallion had always wanted more in life then a simple mating of convenience – perhaps somewhere deep down he was a bit of an old fashioned romantic though he would never admit to such a thing out loud. He'd brought her the last flowers of fall that could be uncovered, jewels and cloaks and other such things that mares of her stature always seemed to appreciate but it seemed to Axel that the most progress was made in wooing her not with items but in the long walks and conversations they had. He had told her of his homelands and his hopes for the future and she in turn had told him of her own hopes and dreams. It was the type of connection that most Soquili only dreamed of and when he thought the time was right Axel offered his proposal. It had been the happiest day of his life and even now as they made their way home he thought upon it with thoughts warm enough to guard against the chill of night that was slowly creeping over the land with winter being so very close at hand. He had outfitted his Princess in a flowing silver cloak edged in fur to keep her warm along the way, it's clasp cast in the shape of a silver crescent moon and gleaming jeweled star shone and flashed whenever the late days sun happened to hit it and he was flattered to see she had chosen to accent the cloak with the silver star spangled leg wrap he had given her when they first met. Both items did nothing to enhance the mare beauty of course...Axel was under the impression that such a feat was impossible. “My Lord” One of the guards jolted Axel out of his inner thoughts with his words and turning towards the larger stallion Axel paused to see what he wanted, motioning his Princess ahead with a slight motion of his muzzle, promising to catch up again shortly. “Yes?” He questioned the guard in a cheery tone – it seemed it was impossible for Axel to be anything but cheery lately. “We will soon be entering the forest my Lord and the scouts wonder if you wish to find a place to rest out here in the grasslands so that we might make our way through in the morning when there is full light” The guard exlained. Furrowing his brow slightly Axel glanced ahead – indeed the shadowy expanse of woodlands loomed close at hand – but there was still a good deal of daylight left and the Prince was eager to get home both to show off his Princess and to beat any early winter storm which might be on the way. “There are still several hours of daylight left” The Prince stated with a slight shake of his head “and surely the scouts can find a nice clearing to make camp in come nightfall...the forest path itself is quite wide most of the way if I recall.” He told the guard confidently. It seemed a waste to stop now when they could get a few miles closer to home before having to stop. “As you wish my Lord” The guard stated before bowing and trotting off to inform the scouts of the Prince's decision. Confident that he had made the right one Axel cantered on ahead to catch up with the Princess once more. “Was something wrong?” She asked as he did so a slightly worried tone in her voice that made Axel nuzzle her in reassurance. 'No dear...merely a question about camp for the night” He assured her, reaching over to pull her cloak more firmly about her neck as they walked. It wouldn't do for his Princess to be cold. The next few hours went by in peaceful conversation as the sun slowly sank behind the treeline and darkness descended on the traveling party. It was soon to dark to travel safely and the scouts called a halt in a small clearing. After ensuring that his Princess was safely and comfortably bedded down with sufficient guards Axel went to confer with the scouts about the next days travel. It was during this meeting that he was told about some strange ruins not to far away – the scouts didn't think it was dangerous as they had looked around during the daylight but it was certainly and interesting place and knowing their Lords love for such places they had decided to tell him. “It does sound intriguing” Axel admitted as he contemplated the ruins “But I do not wish to linger and delay our leaving in the morning” He continued, it was important that they make the best possible time and the trip back home was taking a good deal longer then the trip out had taken as they had to keep the Princess' comfort in mind and Axel refused to strain her overly much. The scouts nodded slightly before one in the bad – a newer scout who was eager to please his Lord spoke up rather timidly “Well..it is not too late yet My Lord and the moon should be bright in the ruin's clearing, we could take you now” He offered and after a few moments the older scouts nodded in agreement. Axel did not need much more encouragement then that and readily agreed. Within minutes the small group was tramping through the forest towards the ruins. When they got their Axel was not disappointed – the old broken spires and rocks were ancient and carved with glittering ruins which shone in the moonlight. He had no idea what they said of course but it was impossible not to wander through the wreckage trying to see them all, from what he could gther they told a story of some sort though to many of the glyphs were broken or missing in the rubble for him to make much sense of it. Somehow in his wanderings however the Prince had managed to loose the scouts which had been trailing him – he wasn't much worried however as the ruins were not that large and surely they would find each other shortly. Picking his way over one piece of Rubble Axel even found a beautifully wrought moon glyph which had broken away from the others, picking it up he decided to bring it back for Princess Aquene....something he might have rethought had he actually be able to make out the stories said glyphs reported. As it were however the Prince remained in blissful ignorance and returned to the front of the ruins where his party of scouts waited to return with him to the rest of the party. The next morning Axel gave his bequeathed the beautifully wrought stone glyph, explaining the way he had seen it shine and glow in the moonlight. It would not be hard to make a pendant of the glyph he promised her but for now they merely carried it with them. The days travels were relatively easy and when night was upon them again the party found themselves on the edge of the forest quite close to the Prince's home. Excitement was in the air as the Prince and his entourage looked forward to the end of travel and it was late before everyone retired for the night. Axel had no idea just how long he had been asleep when a strange haunting voice awoke him. Shaking his head slightly Axel tried to clear the slumber from his mind and rose to his feet. All around him lay his party sound asleep...or where they? They were being awfully still and upon closer inspection Axel found that they were stone cold and long gone from this world, gasping out a cry of alarm he rushed back to the Princess' side but she and he alone seemed to be the only ones left alive. Unsure what to do and not wishing to alarm her Axel let the mare sleep while he tried to figure things out. It was then that the haunting voice spoke again, beckoning to him from cover of the trees. “You have taken something that does not belong to you...” The voice spoke in an ethereal voice. “You have broken the laws of the woods and so you must suffer” The voice continued while Axel was still trying to wrap his mind around what was happening. Was he dreaming? He must be and as thought reading his very thoughts the ethereal voice laughed, a slight tinkling sound that would have been pretty in the light of day but somehow filled the stallion with dread here in the dead of night. “I don't know what your talking about!” The Prince insisted “But you may have whatever it was I have taken” He pledged. “It is far to late for that I'm afraid..the price has already been paid” The voice told him. The price? What price? The death of his soldiers? Surely that was beyond the cost of whatever the voice spoke of. “My people were innocent” The prince demanded, moving forward a few steps with the intention of confronting the voice. “Innocent perhaps themselves but not lead by one who is” The voice answered, fading away slightly to leave Axel even more confused then he had been before. It was obvious the voice had left and Axel was in a bit of shock to be honest, shaking slightly he turned back to his Princess. He must awaken her so that they could run from this place – if they ran fast and hard enough they could reach his kingdom by the next nightfall and be safe from whatever it was the voice might do next. It was as he laid eyes upon her however that Axel was hit with the brunt of his punishment...for rather then the beautiful and well loved mare that he'd left alseep Axel saw nothing but the pulse in her neck, heard nothing but the beating of her heart and was struck with a hunger like he had never experienced before. The bloodlust rose quickly in the stallion driving him mad until crazed he could do nothing less then kill with his own hooves the maiden before him. It was a hideous scene that the blood spattered stallion staggered away from some hours later, he could recall little of his previous life except the pale golden mare he'd once loved and then killed. It wasn't until afterward that the stallion realized he'd stripped the mare of her now bloodstained cloak and jewels, nor that he'd brought with him the strange stone glyph. He was more then a Prince now the stallion realized and in accordance with this..ascension..that had taken hold of him he gave himself a new name..Contagion, fore that’s what he was now, a creature given over to only one goal..feeding and spreading the bloodlust to everyone in his Kingdom. It would become a land of darkness and power unequaled in all the land – and at that thought the stallion cackled in mad glee.
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Posted: Mon Oct 31, 2011 10:12 am
My Corrupted Prince
Username: bella dea
Name of Prince: Julian Cabral Kingsly II - Bitter/Vengeful
What memento/mementos does he have from princess/es: A crown formally worn by his mother,the queen. With dark red garnets on the front with white fur around the bottom, stained with her blood. A moonstone pendant necklace [x] from a mare he fell in love with. And the bags of money he attained when he married another lands princess.
Your Prompt:
For most of his life, the palace was always the place he called home. And with it came the warm love of his mother, and the security that comes with being a person of his station. It wasn't until he fell in love with a serfs daughter, that the his beloved home became his prison.
It was snowing softly now, the blood slowing seeping outwards towards his hooves. It was almost tragic, but she deserved what she got. She never should have interfered. Never should have made me marry that self whore of a mare. Julian's gaze turned upward towards the sky as he spoke, the small white flakes gathering on his face and eyes. "I'm so sorry Kathleena... I should have been there.. should have been there to stop her." he voice choked on a sobbed as he sank into the snow.
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Flashback
"It hasn't been this warm since I was a filly!" Kathleena giggled.
She was smaller than he was, a light, unremarkable brown color that suggested she spent too much time with her father in the sun. But still, ever since the first time her quick wit snapped at him, he loved her. "But at least it means that your garden is blossoming just as well as you are. Soon, you may even pass for a lady... " he teased, tensing his shoulder for the n** that he was sure would come after a comment like that. But instead, she froze, her face seeming to almost crumble. "What did I say, Leena? You know I was only teasing." he gave her cheek a small nudge until she reluctantly smiled.
"I know.. It''s nothing." she said and took off for him to catch her.
But she knew what was coming, he only wished he knew what she did at that moment. His mother had approached her and tried to bribe her to stay away, but she refused all his mother continued to offer.
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Another 2 months passed and his mothers plans for his beloved came to fruition. On the night he was too propose to her, his mother kept him busy with a visitor, a young mare from another kingdom, to keep him busy. And while he was preoccupied, had one of her loyal guards take care of the little nuisance, his sweet Kathleena. When he finally got away and was able to meet her. The poor mare was laying dead in a ditch, half covered in her own blood and half covered by the dirt like a worthless piece of a trash.
It wasn't until he agreed to marry Victoria, this, vile and wrenched mare, that he found out what really happened that night. It may not have been by her own hands, but Victoria and her mother both plotted for poor Kaleena's death. And his mother had him marry the whore for the money her land would bring them.
Since he refused to bed her, she tended to have her way with the knights and servants whenever she saw fit. Soo.. He figured it would be fitting to give in, just once. And when she was caught off guard, too distracted in her own pleasure, he suffocated her with a pillow.
For his mother, it was a bit harder. Since his new wife was killed by a mad man. His mother found him other suitors to grace his company while he plotted something special for his mother. The woman trusted no one but her own her own personal servants and guard. So it wasn't until her guard, accidentally, got charged with murder, that his plan could go full swing. Of course, the guard was hanged. And she was left no choice but to settle for his second in charge. One of his closest friends, Darelon.
With a fake alarm of another possible killer, the queen mother and Julian were evacuated. And in these woods, with his friend by his side, he went for her.
Julian's eyes glowed an unearthly red, with the rage that seemed to bubble up from his gut, he bared his fangs and sank into her neck while Darelon came at her from the side, his dagger plunging into her side not once, but three times just to make sure.
When he pulled away, his mother limp body dropped to the ground.
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Posted: Mon Oct 31, 2011 10:39 am
My Corrupted Prince
Username: XxPrimevalPandaxX
Name of Prince: Judas
What memento/mementos does he have from princess/es: A silver bracelet with a blood red ruby that has been cracked.
Your Prompt: The stallion had been on his journey searching for his princess in the cold night. He usually didn’t travel all too much during the night, but now wasn’t the time to pick and choose. He needed to get this over with and for the sake of his beloved princess he needed to find her once and for all.
As he walked, he felt as if eyes were watching him. The bracelet he was ready to give the princess was firmly placed around his right leg where he could easily pull it off to give to her. That wasn’t his concern at the moment. His concern was the eerieness that mingled in the night air. It had to be a test for him. To test his will and want to go after his beloved.
“My my my…what is this…someone lost?”
A voice echoed through the woods causing Judas to stop in his track with chills running down his spine. It wasn’t a normal voice either, but it was gruff and he could tell the owner of the voice meant him harm. He didn’t want to answer nor did he muster enough courage in his voice to do so.
“Scared? Mmmm…easy prey then..”
The voice sent out another chilling tone that only made Judas more weary. He looked around like a frantic person hearing the bushes shake and the birds in the trees fly off into the night sky above him. He couldn’t really see too much. It was way too dark and the voice was taunting his every effort of moving on. Maybe he was just imagining things?
At that moment a tall dark figure stepped out of the brush with a wide grin on his face. He was mean looking and a cursed skinwalker at that. Something Judas didn’t need to put up with at the moment. A small trail of blood dripped from his muzzle only giving him more of a manic aura around him.
“I am Jezebeth”
Judas heard the stallion, but he didn’t take his eyes off him. He needed to think of a way to get out of this situation. He could run and he couldn’t hide. So fighting was the only way he was going to live another day right now.
“Do you want to kill me?” Judas asked in a weak tone of voice.
“No…I want you on my side..” Spoke the dark colored stallion. His voice thick with the death of his last kill.
“I can’t…I’m on a journey…I don’t want to join you.” Judas was scared. His life was in danger right now.
“It wasn’t a question…and it’s not a choice.” The darker stallions grin widened even more. Another disciple was about to come into being.
Judas backed away from him fearing the worst now and before long, he was running through the dense woods. His feet aching to get away from the monster that was behind him. He could hear the heavy pounding footsteps following closely making his heart beat faster and faster until he was knocked onto the ground. His body collided with a tree and he let out a shriek of pain knowing he was cut and bruised up from this.
As he looked up into his attackers eyed all he could see was anger and evil.
“Now now….we don’t have time to play..” The other sneered in his face before laughing a little bit.
“What is that around your ankle?” He asked putting his foot over the blood red ruby.
“No..it’s…it’s a gift for the princess.” Judas breathed out in a heavy sigh. His body hurt and in pain from the collison.
“Oh well you won’t be needing this anymore…you see…there is no more happiness for you from here on out…” He snickered before pushing his foot down on the ruby causing it to crack and pieces chip off onto the ground.
“NOOOOOOO!” Judas cried out as he watched Jezebeth move his food off the precious stone he found one day for the princess. The stone that meant the world to him. Now it was destroyed.
“Now come my disciple..if you don’t I will kill you”
Judas looked up to Jezebeth with tears filling his eyes. He didn’t have a choice in the matter. He knew his happy life ended and his new world was about to begin. He was going to suffer years of loneliness, regret, anger, hatred, and sadness. He was going to slowly become a monster like a stallion before him.
This was the beginning of the story of the corrupted prince.
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Posted: Mon Oct 31, 2011 10:53 am
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Posted: Mon Oct 31, 2011 12:37 pm
My Corrupted Prince
Username: Kamiki
Name of Prince: Sebastian Lockhart
What memento/mementos does he have from princess/es: Empty birdcages, a garden full of birds, a black feather cloak
Your Prompt:
Sebastian was everything a Prince was supposed to be: he was handsome, well spoken, noble, and chivalrous. His whole kingdom awaited anxiously when he came of age and was meant to take a mate. Much to the adoration of his kingdom, he made a royal decree: he would search the land for the most beautiful mare in the kingdom and she would be his Princess. Rather it be the most blue-blooded noble or the humblest peasant: only the best would do for him.
Immediately, fathers everywhere began bringing their daughters in droves to the palace. Everyday they were trotted in front a panel of harsh judges of Prince Sebastian's court. Only the three most beautiful ones were allowed audience with the Prince each day.
Despite seeing dozens of stunning mares, the Prince was excruciatingly picky. It wasn't until several weeks later a dazzling, pearly unicorn mare was brought before him and she immediately took his breath away. She was delicate and pristine: like glass. Her long white mane and silver fur shone in the sunlight like a mirror and glowed like the moon at night. Even her name rang like a bell: Luminessa.
She was the one. There wasn't a doubt in his mind. He made arrangements with her father and before the week was done, Luminessa was blessed as his lifemate and brought to live at the castle.
But Luminessa did not want to be there. She begged her father not to make her marry the Prince, but he refused. He couldn't understand why she would want to spent her days on their small, meager patch of land. "My daughter," he would tell her, "At the Prince's side you'll want for nothing."
And after all, Sebastian was the Prince, and he could not even comprehend not getting everything he wanted.
After the Lifemating ceremony, Luminessa spent her days in the castle either staring longingly out the window of her room, or watching the birds in the garden. Sebastian, though spoiled, was not heartless and knew birds were Luminessa's favorite thing in the world. She seemed to love her birds more than anything - even himself. So one bright morning he brought her a gift: her very own singing sparrow in a cage for her room. Luminessa seemed nonplussed by the gift: and by the end of the day she opened the door to the cage and set the sparrow free.
Distraught that his gift wasn't good enough to make her love him, the next week he brought her a exotic calling bird from across the land. Once again, Luminessa released the bird by the time the sun went down.
And so it went on for months: every week on the same day at dawn, without fail, Sebastian would bring Luminessa a new caged bird of increasing exoticness. He tried yellow canaries and talking mynas. Tiny hummingbirds and grand peacocks: no bird no matter how beautiful or rare would make her love him. And she set them all free: every last one.
He was at his wits end, growing more and more furious with her rebuffs. He finally reached his breaking point when he presented her with an exotic bird from the jungles across the ocean: an acquisition that took him weeks and countless resources to acquire, only to enter her room the next morning to find an empty cage.
Not just a cage: an empty room. He stormed his castle grounds looking for her - determined to confront her. He was not prepared for what he saw.
There was his Luminessa walking in the garden in the early morning hours side by side with a stunning ebony winged mare. The wind mare was jet black, with rich, thick fur and gleaming coal-colored feathers and eyes as blue as ice. Sebastian watched, stunned, as Luminessa laughed with her and nuzzled her affectionately. There was something thick in her eyes that Sebastian had never seen: love.
He felt his heart shatter in his chest. Without making his presence known, he slinked away, a dangerous blackness beginning to overtake his soul.
The next week, Luminessa was gazing out her window like usual when Sebastian walked in. She didn't even turn to look at him, as she hadn't for months now. He would just leave the cage by the window and leave. But not today - no, today she heard Sebastian come up behind and drape something over her.
She blinked; it was a silky and beautiful feathered cloak. It contrasted against her shining silver fur quite beautifully and she turned and looked as Sebastian with a questioning look. She gasped, however, as it was not her handsome Prince standing there. It was Sebastian, but… something was changed about him. His eyes were wild and bloodshot, and he had blood splattered against his ivory fur.
It was then that it struck her - the soft beautiful feather cloak he draped upon her was made from the feathers of her treasured wind lover. Her eyes went wide as she realized what he was done: so crushed and terrified not even a scream could escape her mouth.
"You want your freedom," he growled at her - any visage of the Prince that had claimed her so many months ago now gone - "You can have it. Fly away, my pet. I want to see you fly…" With that, he pushed her violently out of the window, watching with a sick smile one is face as Luminessa fell helplessly to her end.
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Posted: Mon Oct 31, 2011 1:46 pm
My Corrupted Prince
Username: Faithofthefallen
Name of Prince: Irrylath
What memento/mementos does he have from princess/es:
Your Prompt:
His lips slightly parted with hers as his light blue eyes eyes studied her fair, delicate features. The mares' mouth was slightly agape and her eyes glazed over at the shock of death's cold embrace as her slender body went limp and collapsed against him. She was simply the epitome of beauty, exquisite... A shame, he mused to himself, to destroy such a perfect creature.
With that thought he stepped back and released her, allowing her thin frame to collapse into a motionless heap at his hooves. Her long scarlet hair tangled in disarray as a slight wind whisked through the narrow path, whipping the silken tresses around his ankles and nearly camouflaging the crimson droplets splattered across his front. "Im sorry..." He crooned quietly to his lifeless bride, as if to soothe the mourning spirit dying within.. "Im sorry you were chosen... Perfection... Is murder."
A shiver rippled down his spine, chilling him to the very core as light wispy tendrils of air danced from his lips into the cold air, trailing up into the starry night sky.
His faithful servants scurried over to him, barely meeting his eye as they prepared the body for burial, "A moment," he murmured in a voice barely above a whisper, but all movement stopped. Irrylath gently gripped the long ribbon that had bound his lovers' hair, the once white silk now stained red with blood, and allowed his vassals to wrap the length around his foreleg, tying it near his shoulder in a loose bow. rivulets of blood squeezed out from the cloth traced their way down his pale leg to pool on the ground at his hooves. The servants stared, their faces so pale they seemed to glow in the moonlight, but they said nothing. They had learned the value of obedience, and silence, when serving their prince.
Irrylath closed his eyes briefly, absorbing himself in the nightmared abyss of insanity in which he would never be free of. With that he wrapped his dark capet tighter around himself against the chill and began to walk away. His tousled black hair swirling around the prominent, yet delicate features of the stallion's pale and flawless face.
Chapped lips curved into a sadistic sort of smile around glistening white fangs, the search had begun.
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Posted: Mon Oct 31, 2011 2:12 pm
My Corrupted Prince
Username: Thalea
Name of Prince: Prince Malik Salanaceae
What memento/mementos does he have from princess/es: From the oldest: Her special talisman to ward off evil; from the youngest: A crown. And from the one he loved the most: Her heart in a small wooden box.
Your Prompt:
The deep searing pain that followed the sense of being alone caused hate to bubble up to the surface, why could they be happy, but not he? Just because he did not fit into the niche of their narcissus world, did not mean that he could not be happy and he would be, once he got his revenge.
Three mares, each a princess in their own right, each insufferably vain and contemptuous. In their twisted self-deluded eyes, they could do no wrong, but oh, how wrong they were.
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It was three months ago, while Prince Malik was on his journey to relieve himself of the sorrow and loneliness that had become his constant companion, he came across three of the most beautiful mares in the world. Beneath the rays of the sun, they basked, communicating in idle chatter to each other; each mare radiated a sense of empowerment. A minute passed, but to the prince it felt as if it had been a year and he did not regret it, standing in their presence cured him of his loneliness, when one mare broke away from the group a smile on her lovely countenance as she approached the stallion, “Welcome to the Kingdom of the Three Princesses. We three are the sovereigns of this realm; I am Natalliah, the middle sister.” Prince Malik bowed his head to the mare with the golden auburn hair and pale brown eyes, “My sister, Rebakiah, the eldest,” a mare with dark brown hair stepped forward and gave a slight bow to the stallion, her green eyes flashing. The last mare in the glen took a step forward, her icy blue eyes glaring at the Prince with contempt and her dark blond bangs falling forward to cover one of her eyes, with a huff she blew the strand out of her way, a bored expression on her face, “And the youngest, Caylyn,” Natalliah stated before she fell silent, her duty done. A feeling stirred in the prince as he watched the youngest sister, who did she think she was to treat him with such scorn, he was a prince!
“The pleasure is mine, I am Prince Malik Salanaceae,” he watched as the younger sister’s eyes darted back to him as she reevaluated him, her lips curled up in distaste, “You look like no prince I have ever seen. You are plain and unattractive; you may be a prince, but you are unwilling of our presence.” With a flip of her hair, the immature princess stomped off into the woods, most likely expecting her sisters to follow. They did not.
Natalliah had an apologetic look upon her face, “Please do forgive Caylyn, she is young and brash… and vocal, but she does have a point, if you are a prince, why are you dressed so plainly and so far from home?” Malik met the middle sister’s eyes and felt his heart melt a tiny bit, perhaps she was the one he was searching for on this long journey.
“I am on a search for a Princess to be my mate,” the Prince said confidently, believing that Natalliah would be different than her younger sister, he was mistaken. A loud obnoxious snort came from the eldest sister, “why would Princesses as beautiful as us ever want to be with you, a pale comparison to the magnificent Prince Charming.” The harsh words felt like knives stabbing into his heart, his sky blue eyes flicked over to Natalliah, the sister who he felt he had made a connection with, but her beautiful face was twisted in disgust.
“My sisters are right, we could never love one such as yourself, you better leave, we do not want you in our presence,” with one last scoff, the narcissistic sisters left the shocked prince wide-eyed and cloaked in a shroud of numbness.
Despondent and alone, the prince returned home, but as time passed the feeling of anguish did not abate, instead it mutated in to the malicious emotion of hate; he finally snapped. He no longer was sick with loneliness, but sick with longing for the blood of the three princesses that had scorned him. From the thoughts a blood a malign plan was formed.
Prince Malik sent his trustworthy steward out in search of the three mares to invite them to a Ball held in their honor; because they were ones full of self-glorification and could not deny such a treat, they accepted the invitation. Not one had the slightest idea death was nigh.
The day of reckoning was finally here and the three sisters arrived in all their finery; Prince Malik greeted the excited princesses with an evil glint in his eye and led them down the long hallway to the Ball Room. It was completely empty except for a small wooden box in the center of the room; before the mares could protest, the prince commented in a cold voice, “Do any of you reconsider my offer to become my mate?” A resounding “no” passed from each of the beautiful mare’s mouth.
“Then you will die,” the Ball Room doors slammed shut with a ground shaking thud, Malik began to see red behind his vision as he gave into hate and anger; he lunged toward the youngest mare, killing her mid-scream. She slumped to the ground, her beauty stained with her own blood; from atop her dead body, the prince removed the crown that she did not deserve to wear and tossed it into the air with his mouth, as the gold crown came back down, it landed on his head, where it belonged. Next it was the eldest, who attempted to flee to the thick wooden doors, but life full of beauty and pampering had made her weak; the silly charm she wore around her neck for protection failed her, for she fell just as quick as her sister.
He saved her for last, the one he loved, yes he loved her, but she would never love him, “Natalliah.” His voice came out barely a whisper, a soft caress, as he made his way slowly to the shaking mare standing in the middle of the room next to the box, “You should have said yes My Love and you would have lived. I could have given you the world, but you are too tainted to see. You are the one I love most of all and the one that I will kill last. You will forever be with me; do you see that box there? That is where I will place your heart, which will always be mine.”
Before Natalliah could react and flee from the bloody prince, she was falling, her mouth open in a silent scream as she drowned in darkness.
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