Collection of Fidigal Short Stories

Joel - The Game That Began It All

All he had wanted to do was play.

Joel sat on the floor of his bedroom, expensive toys and trinkets splayed across the floor. He was there amongst them, throwing figures in the air and making sound effects of explosions and adventure. He always liked the idea of adventure. Of course, being a prince, Joel knew that he wouldn't get the excitement he yearned for. Even at such a young age.

Still, in the privacy of his chamber, he could be more than a prince. Joel could be a knight. Or a wizard. Or even a dragon.

But when the sound of a knocking disrupted his perfect scene, he let out a very unprincely sigh.

"Yeah?" Joel called out, hoping the servant would speak through the door.

Misty stepped inside, deflating Joel's hopes instantly. She was the antsiest servant. The teenage daughter of his mother's handmaid. Of course, that was before his mother had passed. Misty's mother had held her hand as she lost her life in the delivery room. Joel's dad had said she was trying to give him a brother. But neither of them made it.

Still, Misty and her mother had solidified their way into the kingdom's employment.

Her brown curls were tied into braids, framing her tanned and freckled face. She wore a basic dress, not of high fashion but still probably tailored by the royal seamstress. Her hands fidgeted in front of her, never finding rest. Joel was reminded of a small dog he had seen in the arms of one of the ladies in another house. Always shaking.

"Your royal highness." Misty curtsied out of respect. "Her highness of Keresoul is here. She requests an audience."

Another sigh escaped his mouth. There was no way he was letting that girl into his room.

"I'm busy." Joel turned from the door and picked up a knight figurine.

"You're making that up!" A tiny girl's voice yelled from behind the door. Joel's head whipped to the source, his dark and unruly curls bounced around.

That, of course, made Misty's fidgeting even worse.

"I'm afraid I have to insist, your highness. On the order of his majesty." Her voice shook and her eyes darted nervously to the side, as if the small princess would overtake her at any moment to get through the door.

Joel felt his hope deflate. He couldn't argue with his father's orders. He looked at the toy in his hand and back up at the servant girl. His father would be disappointed if he refused to see his betrothed, Iarath. The first time he had met the princess, it had been a big conversation. They had to get along because they would eventually be married.

Apparently, Iarath thought this meant they should spend time with each other.

"Let her in." He relented, pouting as he absent-mindedly kept moving his knight toy around. It had lost its fun with the promise of a girl's presence.

Misty sighed in relief. "Thank you, Prince Shiran."

Rolling his eyes at his official title, he turned back around and refused to look at the girl as she walked through the door. He remained facing away from her even as he heard Misty make her leave. His solitude ruined, Joel chose to ignore the source of his disappointment.

"Shiran?" Iarath spoke, not realizing his plan. Or ignoring it entirely. "I thought your name was Joel."

He contemplated ignoring her question. But his father's worried face flashed in his head. They had to get along.

"It is. Shiran is my given name, after my father. But he wanted me to have my own identity, so I go by Joel. It's my middle name." He recited the reason he has had to recite for his entire six years of life.