The Forgotten Prince

Harnsay

           Tillman Abonas lived in a wall.

           Literally. The city of Harnsay was in the middle of a huge wall that divided northern Tharros from southern Daltoria, making it neither Tharrian or Daltorian. The ancient kings of the past had agreed to let Harnsay remain free from both kingdoms, but the kings of today had thrown that out the window. For the moment, Tharros held control over the city. Tillman's father, Ansger, was a Tharrian lord who'd become good friends with the king, and was now in charge of the most important port in all of Telum: Harnsay.

         Tillman himself was twelve years old, with sandy brown hair that was combed over on the top. He had a thin, freckled face and ears that stuck out slightly more than usual. Currently, there were thick round goggles strapped over his bright, inquisitive, green eyes, mostly to protect him from the dangerous chemicals he leaned over.

        The beaker in front of him held a pale green liquid, seemingly innocent at first but actually a deadly poison. He dripped a small portion of water that had a black powder dissolved in it into the beaker with an eyedropper, watching eagerly as it swirled around in the poison. When the entire contents of the beaker had turned dark green, Tillman picked up a squirming flatworm with a pair of tweezers and dropped it into the solution.

        Fascinated, he watched as the flatworm's movements became sluggish then stopped altogether. It sank to the bottom of the beaker, where it lay still for a few seconds then puffed up.  The boy reached in with his tweezers and grabbed the puffy flatworm, now the size of a strawberry. He pulled out a lemon squeezer and proceeded to squeeze all the liquid out of the worm into a bottle. Tillman quickly labeled the bottle Flatworm liquid, and popped the cork on. He carefully placed the bottle in a metal cabinet already half full of similar containers.

       Just as he picked up another flatworm, Tillman heard a deep  voice call to him from downstairs.

      "Tillman! Quit murdering bugs and come get some lunch!"

       The boy rolled his eyes, but hopped up and ran downstairs anyway. Arguing with his tall, muscular brother Rawkin was not a terribly good idea. Nine years older than Tillman, Rawkin was a handsome, blond-haired, blue-eyed young general in his father's army, so unlike his shrimpy little brother with asthma. While Rawkin was famous for traveling for days on foot to warn a fellow general of a coming attack, Tillman couldn't run more than a hundred feet without huffing and puffing like a sorry version of the big bad wolf. The older boy was an accomplished general at twenty-one years old, but the younger still couldn't stand the sight of blood and still considered figures of myth and legend his best friends. While he might not have been the brainiest, Rawkin was an entertainer, a people pleaser, and this was enough for most everyone to like him more than strange Tillman, who hid in the shadows at parties and often talked to himself.

        In fact, Tillman didn't like any of his siblings much. Thierry, the oldest, clung to their father like a barnacle. He was the Lord's advisor, and usually the things he suggested helped prevent his younger brother's scientific experiments. He also often pretended Tillman didn't exist during social gatherings, including feasts, parties, and especially weddings.

        Rawkin thought it was hilarious when he messed up his brother's things or hid in dark hallways late at night just so he could jump out and scare the living daylights out of Tillman. He would sometimes shove the boy into pools of water, and once, he'd locked him in his own room for three hours.

         Jenefer was obsessed with her appearance, and would always comment on how shabby Tillman appeared, or how the colors of his clothes clashed, or how his experiments made her sick. She said he got chemicals on her whenever he touched her, that the dust from his books made her break out, and that he was spreading fleas from his pet rabbit to her.