The Prince

"I am the Prince of Rijero, and I will not do the spell practice if I don't want to!" a haughty, sixteen-year-old boy shouted at the tutor in front of him.

"Now young man, you normal tutor may not be here, but that does not mean total sloth and anarchy!"

The boy looked the tutor dead in the eyes. "Don't force me to do magic. The consequences may not be happy for you." A fire seemed to light up in his eyes, and his hands cast an odd glow.

The tutor stared the boy down, only a slight bit of fear showing in his eyes, "Are you threatening me, Miashgon? Fuldon would not be happy to hear of that."

Miashgon's hands ceased their glow, and his eyes dimmed. After a few moments of defiant muttering whilst pondering, he murmured, "Fine. I'll do the spell practice." He raised a hand towards a few placed targets, and muttered the spells to cast fire and float objects, one by one. After a few minutes of this, he stopped, "There, are you happy?"

The tutor smiled. "I truly am pleased. However, not for the reason you'd think. I'm pleased because-" he said, as his hair and skin changed, melting into an old, grey wizard who held a crystal wand, "you respect me more than you are stubborn."

Miashgon grimaced, "Fuldon, you were dishonest. I thought you said honesty was the heart and core of magic."

"Well, it is true that the most powerful magic cannot be used without some honesty. However, hoinesty is not even necessary for most water-based spells, such as shapeshifting. Besides, you know as well, if not better, than I do that you can still throw a fireball whilst lying." Fuldon smiled warmly, "That should be enough for today, I believe you have a banquet this evening?"

Yeah, Trivor turns 15, and we have to have a banquet. I didn't get a banquet for my fifteenth."

"Yes, but you were not the last son to become a man. He will have to live out a life as a lesser noble, waiting until you die, and once you have a son, he's out of the running. He deserves a banquet or two."

"He can have the stupid crown for all I care. All it is is boring politics and diplomacy, like this foolish banquet. I'd rather be a captain in the guard. In fact, I'd rather be out guarding the door this evening."

"Well Miashgon, I think that's a fine idea."

Miashgon gave Fuldon an odd look, "A fine idea? What do you mean by that?"

"Well, not the giving up the crown bit, but you have a good bow and sword, I sure I can convince your father to let you get some leather from the armory and take the first shift. That way you can even get back for most of the banquet."

"Are you serious?"

"Quite. In fact, I'll make it your training for tonight. Now, lets go find your father."

"All right! Lets go!" And Miashgon walked with Fuldon to his father's work chamber.

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