Separated

Part IV: Fredrick

In two days it is going to be a big day, where I decide whether I get to be king five years from that time, or choose someone else to inherit the throne. The second choice happened once...with my grandpa inheriting the throne after the king's son at the time refused, at least that's what my father told me. I had no idea what I was going to choose. The whole kingdom would hear what I had to say. Being king gave you more power than anyone in the kingdom, but there was just as much responsibility. I made the ultimate decision that night, after a huge banquet.

"Fredrick, it's strongly advisable that you get up," I heard Gerard's muffled voice say from the other side of my bedroom doors. "You must prepare for the pre-choosing ceremony tonight. We'll have many guests." I chuckled, for I was already deciding what to wear.

When I came out, my father was ordering around servants to do the cleaning.

"Hello, Father," I said, brushing out my white suit embellished with some of my medals.

"Fredrick! You need to be more formal than that! It's your pre-choosing banquet today! It is a time to..."

As he kept talking about the importance of dressing for special occasions, I looked around at the servants preparing for this special day. Some servants were dusting out cobwebs that had formed by the windows. Others gathered some of the scraps of food strewn about the halls. Still others were scrubbing the walls with cloths.

"...and you at least need your sash on, Fredrick. Come on, it's the most important event in this kingdom, second only to your coronation."

"Alright, father," I said calmly. "I'll go back and put a sash on."
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After that, I took a stroll around the kingdom to see what the citizens did to prepare. One person saw me and squealed in a voice as high as Gerard when he sees a mouse.

"I can't believe I'm actually seeing the prince himself! Here!" He shoved a bag of potatoes into my hands.

"It isn't much, but since I started calling it the Prince's bag, I've been earning enough money to buy my own castle!"

"How very, umm, kind of you." I tried to give the potato bag to him, but he wouldn't take it back.

"Keep it, my Prince! Oh, everyone will have wished they were me once they find out that I shook hands with the Prince himself!"

Just as I was about to correct him, he took my hands and shook them with his frigid ones, then ran away and yelled out,

"I shook hands with the prince! I shook hands with the prince! How's that for nobility, eh?"

I sighed, remembering the situation among our people. The nobility had somehow managed to completely divide themselves between them and the peasantry, completely unbeknownst to the royal court. There might as well been a huge wall between them, too, but sometimes things happened like this, but there was nothing anyone could, or would, do. It was just a part of life here.

When I returned to the castle, my father was in the kitchen, helping prepare the dinner and dessert for the banquet (this was the most admirable trait he had: working alongside his servants). I currently walked in on him rolling out some dough for a strawberry pastry.

"Fredrick!" he said, looking up from his work. "You're back! I need you to practice your swordsman skills for the banquet tonight!"

"Why would I?" I asked, slightly nervous about the response.

"Well, swordsmanship is a vital skill when you're a king. You need to be able to lead armies against enemies..."

"What enemies?" I asked, starting to pace the room. "We haven't had anyone fight us as long as I can remember. The only conflicts we've had are internal conflicts with the nobility and peasantry."

"Well, those conflicts can turn bloody in a matter of seconds. A king must be prepared to intervene if necessary."

"Using violence?" I challenged. "You can't stop a fight with a fight, Father. It's almost paradoxical!"

My father stopped me and put a hand firmly on my shoulder.

"Son, sometimes that's just how the world works."

I nodded slowly.

"Now go practice your swordsmanship."

"Yes, Father," I said quietly.

I left the kitchen and took as much time as possible to walk to my bedroom. I meandered my way through the corridors, observing the servants as they worked relentlessly to prepare for the banquet. Several used wet cloths to brush against the floor in an attempt to scrub off the various crumbs and stains.

I continued my way through the halls until I saw my bedroom doors. There were no more detours left to take, so I groaned and entered. I sat bed, eyeing my sword, which was laid neatly across the trunk at the foot of my bed. I considered practicing the disarming maneuver I had seen my father perform many times on me, but never bothered to teach me. 

It is a risky move, though...

I thought about the possible injuries I could sustain by trying this new move. There was a slight chance of me getting stabbed in the foot. Of course, that would have to take a good amount of velocity produced from the opponent's sword, which most likely won't happen if I don't have an opponent...

I tried to remember the maneuvers he did when performing it. He would start with his left foot back to maintain the center of gravity, twist his wrist to intertwine his sword with the opposer's and disarm him. It worked on me every time. I tried it, but when pretending to twist the sword, mine slipped and slid across the ceramic tile floor, the noise like a high scream. I had to cover my ears from the high-frequency sound. After that, I decided I was done. I looked at my desk, which had papers scattered all across it. I went to it and studied the footprints I sketched the day before.

Thump-thump, thump-thump...

I heard something come from the front of my room. I turned around in my chair.

Thump-thump, thump-thump...

I looked around and I thought I saw something that looked like a mouse, but it was much bigger and fatter, with long ears. I looked around the room until I looked under my bed and saw it. It saw me and attempted to run away.

"Wait!" I called out to it. It hopped around the room, evading my hands as I tried to catch it. It maneuvered expertly over chairs and under desks. Eventually, however, I managed to corner it in my closet. I took it gently under its front legs and carried it to my desk.

"How remarkable..." I said, awed by its appearance. It looked at me with red eyes, but they weren't remotely threatening. They were peaceful. I also noticed the round cotton-like tail it had.

"Hold still," I told it. I brought out a large spongy ink pad and opened it. I carried the creature over it, and placed its paws on it. I then picked it up again and placed it on a blank parchment. I held it there for some time, and then picked it up to observe the footprints.

"They're nearly identical!" I exclaimed. I then looked at the creature again. It had a sort of trait that made me want to squish it, but not because I hated it. It was because it was something I had to keep looking at because it was...I couldn't describe it.

What if these things are from the other side? They're strange-looking, just like my father had described them.

It's impossible, though. How could any creature scale an enormous structure like the Border?

But I've never seen the creature before. There's no way it could be from this side.

Then it hit me. I formulated a plan to end the ever-pursuing questions that spun around in my mind each and every night. A plan that would finally satisfy the mind that never let me forget the questions I would soon get the answers to. Once and for all, I would learn the secrets of the other side.
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