Of Jesters and Kings

Part 1-The Jester

He sat there, the Horse Jester Prince.

He thought about his fingers. What queer things. Small little projections of bendable meat attached to branches of calcium that extended from a larger bendable meat stick of protein and calcium. Jesus he was messed up. Well it was his own opinion anyway. He was the type of person where if life gave him lemons, he would ask life for more lemons. The prince of horses liked free shit.

A light breeze blew past him, and it made the small brass bells connected to the ends of his hat release a soft jingle. The stone bench he was seated on was made of polished white marble, etched with small engravings of winged figures and proud lions. The Horse Jester Prince was a far-out name.To be honest no one knew why he had Horse in front of Jester, his royal title; but his actual occupation was a Jester. But, he liked to go by the name Prince. The thing was he wasn't exactly sure if he even had any royal blood in him. His family tree was blurred and blotched; his parents had been missing for years. Well, the Prince continued to think about his fingers, and as a couple minutes went by his thoughts drifted till he was thinking about lemons. Funny how your mind works.

As the young man was mentally trying to envision making a whipped lemon cream pie, a heavy metallic boom was heard. Followed by another, more deafening than the first. The Prince peered out from the balcony of the upper court yard, and out in the distance he could see the Clock Tower. A Goliath of brass, stone, and steel; it dominated the horizon. Inside the tower the lone bell chimed. Prince squinted alittle. He could even see it from this distance. The Lone bell, behind the glass frame of the equally mammoth clock, was swinging from side to side. Its booms were being heard from across the kingdom. A flock of dark birds took flight from a nearby overhang of trees.

The Jester Prince left the gardens.

A royal meeting hadn't been called for years. The last meeting wasn't even urgent. The queen had rung the bell to gather the royals to witness her spit bars of fire in a rap battle against the king. Needless to say, the queen roasted his ass. The Jester stepped down the stairs. He stopped to let a squad of guards quickly jog past him and turn the corner. He briskly entered the wide hallway and entered a twin set of large oak doors, so heavily polished he could see his reflection in the red-brown wood. They sat at the table. The six of them waiting for him. The King, his Queen, the Princess, the Dragon Keeper, the Cook, and the Executioner. What an odd assortment of people. He questioned their career paths. The sovereign of stallions took his place among them, sitting between to the Princess and the Cook. Though the Princess wasn't even related to him.

In fact, none of the members of the royal meeting were related at all with one another.

In fact, the king and queen weren't even married.

In fact, they all aged between 15 to 17 years of age.

In fact, the power to rule was split between all of them.

Also, Prince's favorite color was blue.

The king looked at each and every one of the royals. His eyes meeting the gaze of all of them. An awkward silence followed, and the king let out a loud laugh. The prince grinned.

"How's everyone been?" The King said as he let out a wide smile.

"FuCkIn GREAT!" Prince exclaimed and leaned back in his chair, "Fantastic, Eccentric, Elated! Now why did you call this stupid meeting Kevin?"

"Is that how you talk to your KING?!" the Queen suddenly yelled from across the table. No body moved. A second later they all broke out laughing. Royal meeting my ass. Honestly none of these meetings were productive at all. Just catching up with one another; their homes were spread out across the kingdom and rarely had a chance to see one another. Well besides the King, Queen, and the Horse Jester Prince.

Kevin, the King, was never actually called King Kevin because that just sounds fucking weird. The crowned head was usually addressed by the people as The Monarch, but Kevin felt uncomfortable with the title. He said it made him feel imposing and unjust. For the remainder of the meeting they talked about the journeys they had and the places they've been. Apparently the Cook could make a mean curry, hotter than the Queen's bars she recalled. The Princess had said she had met a strange silvery beast, that rolled out from under the depths of the sea near her boat during one of her sailing trips, that would grant three wishes in return for a three years of her life. She had told them that she intended to keep her years, thank you very much, but some of her retainers had taken up the offer. She couldn't remember what her men had wished for. The meeting ended sometime around noon an everyone departed. Hands were shaken and partings given and received. The golden gates of the city were opened for the royals to exit. This city was a place of abundance. A real utopia in the making. The only shortage here was a shortage of shortages. Food was plentiful. A new theater was being built in the old section of the metropolis, if the Jester heard correctly. It would show moving pictures, The wonders of technology. Now alone in the conference room, the boy entered the corridor again to trek back to his chamber.

The lights inside the palace seemed to dim for some reason. Fucking heebie jeebies man. The young man shuddered and ran a hand through his hair. the bells of his cap tinkled every time he took a step. His room was in the tallest tower on the highest floor. The winding stairs up were a pain. It was so dark... A faint moan emitted from the darkness. The Jester stopped for a moment. He looked around. A sound of hurried foot steps. A hush. He was on edge now. The prince of horses cursed under his breath. The draw of his breath became syncopated as became aware of how quickly and loudly he was breathing. The young man gripped his Jester's staff tightly. His fingers turned white as he clutched the colorful shaft of the staff. When he walked up to his door he noticed the temperature drop, to a chill that made his hairs stand on end. With a measured movement he placed his hand on the door and gave a slow push. It opened... silently.

On his bed, propped against the headboard, was a painting of him.

Though the clown couldn't put his finger on it, there was something very wrong with how it looked. His features were slightly deformed and the colors were extraordinarily dull. As he walked closer he noticed that the portrait of him was holding something. The King's crown was clutched in his hands. His blood crusted hands. The boy's eyes in the picture were full of fear. They looked as if they had seen something terrible, horrifying.... unnatural. The sound of hurried foot steps again. The Jester whirled around. But when he turned back around to inspect the portrait more, it was gone.

-Signing off, Gin