King of the Dreams | Fantasy Short Stories | 𝕬𝖑𝖎𝖟𝖞𝖑

𝕶𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕯𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖒𝖘

Once upon a time, there was a King in a chaotic, disordered Kingdom with flames and starvation. He was enthusiastic, forgiving, innocent, and childless. One day, he would have a wife, and she would bear him a son. The successor should rule the Kingdom, bringing back peace.

Several years later, the King’s wife delivered a baby boy in agony, as the King had been pleading for years. He had such beautiful eyes, as blue as sapphire, and hair as brown as hazelnuts. He was indeed healthy and strong, but certainly, was born during the era of chaos, perhaps marching towards its end.

The gates had already been destroyed, and the irritated, angry peasants, anti-monarchists dashed into the palace with their flammable torches. The guards and guns were no longer useful, for thousands of them had entered, intending to do away with their own King, with their own hands.

Realising the entrance of the irritated, angry peasants, the King struggled to find someplace safe and hid with his Queen, and his newborn, unnamed son. He clenched the hands of his Queen, and soon realised her unusually low temperature. It was the feeling of a dead body, and she had gone to heaven, after the intensive bleeding. Immediately, he held his son's fragile, small hands, who was being held by a governess, kissing his forehead with tears.

“His name is Ludwig Friedrich.” 

Ludwig, in honor of his beloved, deceased wife, Ludovika; Friedrich, the ancestral name of the royal family and, more importantly, representing the King’s prayers for peace and joy to his lands.

The governess was demanded to escape through the chimney with the infant, while he would remain beside his dead wife, waiting for the arrival of death, perhaps.

Eventually, the Kingdom was abolished, and the forgiving, innocent King, whose son was in his own getaway, was beaten to death by his own subjects.

The King was dead, and the infant survived the civil execution.

The governess held the infant tightly within her trembling arms, running deeply into the forest. He should be raised properly : no one should see him, and no one should know him, until the wind blew, and he should rise again.

By her efforts, the Prince had matured into a dazzling, intelligent, and handsome young man. Undoubtedly, he had inherited his mother’s name, her glamour, as well as learning how to write professionally and speak in different languages from his governess.

“One day, you shall restore your Kingdom and rule in peace. Don’t ever let your heavenly parents down.”

The Prince always reminded himself to be calm and steady, as a young gentleman. Living in a portable, delicate wooden house, climbing onto the rooftop, listening to the orchestra performed by the hummingbirds and treefrogs were parts of his life. Occasionally, he would try to figure out the language system of his precious animals. When he was hungry, he would simply reach for the apples from the nearby tree handily, which was planted by his governess many years ago and had grown into a strong and gigantic apple tree.

Sometimes, he would grab papers with vocabularies from his governess's desk, penning poems with inspirations of nature, a miniature of his father, and the dazzling ruby of his mother. ‘The eagle’, as he referred to himself, was an adventurous creature living in a locus with trees and animals, relaxingly. He had a nest, sharing with his relative, and he would go hunting every day. His world was in peace, concealed by woods that were protective screens for his shelter. Within the woods, it was his world, and his only home.

His peaceful and comfortable life deep within the forest would soon be interrupted, by his Aunt, as soon as he reached his 19th birthday, modestly and plainly.