Modern Prince

Chapter Two: Automated Carriages

Hugo was in his apartment again. His wonderful, clean, heated apartment with electricity and the internet. He sighed in relief as he put the golden key still in his hand back in his pocket and set the golden chest on a side table before collapsing on the old couch he'd grabbed from Savers for twenty-five dollars.

Realizing that all his research—including his laptop, smashed phone, notes and everything else besides the small notebook he still had in his pocket—was stuck in the past surrounded by angry villagers, he let out another sigh. Well, at least he still had his own eye-witness account to rely on. Literal thousands of words of field research had been lost just now, but hey, a hot prince called him a gift from heaven, so that was something.

Allowing his eyes to close, he thought of that same dashing prince and couldn't help but grin. That is, until he swore he could hear the young man's voice coming from inside his apartment.

"Where am I? I demand an explanation at once!"

Eyes shooting open, Hugo sat up, staring at the short, sickly man standing in the middle of his living room in a haughty, prim pose. "P-Prince Varian?" He rubbed his eyes and blinked.

"Correct." He drew the decorated sword from his hip and pointed it at Hugo's throat. "I do not know what fresh hell you have brought me to," he looked around in distress as he spoke, "but I demand your miracle cure immediately."

"My what?"

"The cure to my ailment! The one you said I did not have access to in my time period or whatever it was. Hand it over. Now."

He blinked down at the sword tip, then back up at the prince. "Sure, we can head over to the Insticare down the street and get you some drugs. You can put the sword down now. I won't hurt you."

"I doubt that, not with the magic you struck that man with."

"Huh? Listen, I'm a decent dude... well, decent enough. I don't want to see you die either. I'll get you your cure."

"No trickery."

"You have my word. Just, put down the sword already. I'm not very useful to you dead."

Varian eyed him, then lowered the weapon. "Where are we anyway, fair one?"

"The name's Hugo, and I don't know how to tell you this, but this is the future for you. Nearly five hundred years after your time. You jumped forward with me when you touched the light from the chest."

He scoffed. "Do you take me for a fool?"

"It's the truth." 

"I am no gull. We cannot be in the future."

"No? Just look around. Bet you've never seen a car before, or a T.V., or electricity or—"

"Holy trinity," the prince muttered, his eyes flicking to something behind Hugo's head. He left to walk behind the couch. "What manner of oddity is this?"

Hugo turned, seeing the short man approach his seven-dollar green lava lamp. He stifled a chuckle when Varian lifted a finger to it, then drew his hand back due to the heat.

"That's what you're impressed by?" He stood from the couch, walking over to him. 

"We are in the future?" Turning to him, the prince searched his eyes with so much distress, Hugo couldn't help but stare. "How can that be? I mean, I saw your odd golden box, but I find no explanation for any of this."

"Yeah, I don't really get it myself. Some kind of old magic relic or something. Don't worry. I can take you back to your time and nothing back home will have changed for you since leaving."