Thief of Your Soul

Ch 2 Lance

       Lance McClain hid in the corner under his window and turned his crown around and around in his hands. His parents had come to see him this evening, the first time in a week, and told him they were making plans to eradicate the 'evil' inside of him for good. He sighed, knowing it was futile. They had been trying the moment he had returned from the battlefield, scarred and now filled with the- ugh, he couldn't even think the word.

      It had been his family's greatest undertaking, expelling the people who had marked him. They had resources in their veins that they used to do many things. He'd been taught to hate them, had been raised to destroy them, but in his heart, he never understood why. The things they could do, the good they could do... but his parents didn't see it that way, they saw it as a form of rebellion against them and the crown. He thought that was stupid considering these people were born with their... condition.

     He looked at his crown again and rested it on his knee. The light from the candles overhead glinted off the gold and shone on his skin. The oil paint on his skin covering his marks was starting to wear away and he pulled his handkerchief out of his pocket to start wiping it off. He hated wearing it, hated having to be slathered in the thick mess just to see his parents or be paraded in front of the court for appearances. His parents knew of the marks of course, and those closest to him were sworn to secrecy about it. The army who had been with him had been all but wiped out, so those that had survived like him had been hushed as well, under a harsh threat of death.

       A knock on the door startled him and his crown clattered to the floor. He knew who it was, so he didn't bother to hide his skin.

     "Come in," he called, and immediately through the door came his Royal Advisor, Duke of Keane, Curtis Ritter. He was technically a distant cousin of Lance, but more than any of those titles, he was his closest friend and confidant.

      "Your Royal Highness," he bowed low, and after the pleasantries, he came and sat on the floor next to Lance. He took the handkerchief and started gently wiping the oil off his hands. "How are you feeling?"

     "I'm... I'm feeling like if I was gone, their problems would be so much easier. And so would mine."

      "Running from them wouldn't be any easier than being here," Curtis reminded him. He took a clean corner of the handkerchief and rubbed it over his cheek and just under his blind eye. "You'd be hunted and brought back."

     "I don't know why they don't just get rid of me..." But he knew. They were going to need an heir to the throne. They didn't need his face, just his-

      "Lance, I- I wish there was something I could do, and one day I'm going to figure something out, but I need you to be strong with me until then. You will make a great ruler one day, I know it."

      "I don't want to rule this land. The castle, it only holds horror and anger. These people fight something that isn't- it's not- I can't-"

"You can do anything, Lance. I also think you can be the change this place needs."

"They'll never accept me as a ruler."

      "No one will accept you until you accept yourself." Curtis put the handkerchief down and picked up Lance's crown. "Lance, you are so much more than your outside, and you know it. You were someone amazing before this happened, and your still just as amazing, if not more, but you've lost yourself. You are the prince this land needs, the prince I need."

      Lance nodded and looked at the shining gold in Curtis's dark fingers. He knew he was right, and he loved him for his words and the belief and trust he had in him.

"I'm going to take this crown, and I'm going to make it mean something, I promise."