From Prince…

Dearest Public,

 

I’m in trouble.

I fear I’ve been dishonest with you. You see, I’ve been sitting in this throne much too large for me, and declaring from the seat as if I’m the king of our people. All of this shouting has hoarsened my throat, and as I stepped down from that throne last week my attendants made note of something I hadn’t quite noticed.

My pants most certainly don’t fit the duty I’ve assumed.

To be frank with you, I have been losing a great deal of sleep. In this small apartment, I’ve been wondering what it would be like to rest in the lavish bed of a king. I’ve been worried about the future of my kingdom and I’ve been wondering an awful lot what it will take to make it flourish the way I know it can. While I stack a mountain of tin sins around my chambers, my Soon-To-Be resting fitfully in the bedroom and living quarters I’ve assembled for us haphazardly.

I have stripped my mind of anything besides the foreign desire of success and admitted myself into a center for the explicit purpose of exercising that passion. I have become a cog in the machine I so desperately wanted to avoid.

The fear of life.

My father has told me often, that the fear of the past is of no use to me. That those moments and memories are long forgotten. Still, I sit in cold silence without power, and wonder what I have become in the darkness when no cameras watch me. I wonder which holds more weight, the past memories of failure, or the impending doom of the same?

The King I’ve claimed to be has slipped into some distant mystery, and I am seeing beings in my chambers who I know don’t belong there.

Specters haunt our bedroom, looming mere inches from me. Their horrid voices washed away by years of flickering sadness speak in tongues I’ve never heard, and I listen so intently. My desire to derive some kind of meaning from their words drives me unlike anything I’ve heard before. Still, when the morrow comes and the sun stretches above the parapets, I rise from my sleeping quarters and don myself in the same clothing I’ve worn in every time of fear or panic, every moment of uncertainty I’ve found myself adorned with the same frightful garments.

The voices of the specters are far, their whisperings of madness barely audible through the chaos of the day. So distant are the sounds that I forget they come until night falls and exhaustion besets me once more. When I seek my quarters to lay beside my Soon-To-Be, I fight the frills of their rigid tongues. Even with light in flesh lying beside me, the darkness can still be so all-consuming.

In these moments, I think of you.

The sinister voices of the spirits that surround me tell me endlessly that I am destined to be a second pawn. The Prince forever, never King. I am beginning to believe them, and because of that, I must admit…

They have taken a ferocious hold of me. Tell me, have you ever been haunted by a ghastly figure in the daylight?

Or are your nightmares reserved for the shadows, where no lights and no cameras can see you?

I can see my plagues upon my flesh and within my words, rooted in the fears I hold that one day, I will become the man I once was. I can see the shadows writing on the wall, a bloody message from my own veins. I am afraid that today is more fearsome than yesterday ever was, but if that were so, can you tell me why I am so frightened of history?

Alas, this message has taken much more time than I intended. I did not mean for you to be alarmed, or afraid. I merely wanted to reach out to you and inform you that I will be taking a journey. I will be gone for uncounted days, and I will return when I choose to return. In my stead, I’ve left my attendants and my Soon-To-Be at the helm of what meager duties I’ve been allotted. The throne sits empty for now, but despite its inscription with my name, I must not return until I can sit within it and deserve the title of a king.

I will write to you when I have the availability. I wish to speak with a King in another kingdom. One who holds far more knowledge than I ever will, One who guides my spirit and who will not yield.

I will not leave you in the same dark that I have left myself.

It is my curse, now and forever more.

-Prince.

Categories: Umbral Dawning

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