19 March 2012

Delfort: 13. Escape! (Maybe!)

This is the next installment of the adventures of young Delfort, Prince of Darscinnia. To start from the beginning, read canto one.

Previous canto: "Beautiful Distraction"  

Canto Thirteen

Prince Delfort
by Kevin F. Story
Prince Delfort tried everything he could think of to break James' silence. He remembered that sometimes a conjurer would come to Pilvar and entertain by entrancing the servants and, when the trick was worn, snapping his fingers to restore normalcy. Delfort snapped his fingers to no effect. He also tried shouting at James, putting a foot out to trip him, flicking his cheeks, and twisting his hair. Still James maintained his smooth silence as they walked downstairs and through the warm halls. It became clear to Delfort that James was under some sort of enchantment.

It also became clear to Delfort that this house was much larger than it had appeared on the outside. The hallways and doors seemed infinite, twisting, confusingly everyplace. While it felt like the rooms were full of people, and occasionally Delfort would swear he heard a giggle or whispers from around the bend, they crossed no one on their way to wherever James was headed. Delfort did not feel much like going wherever that was. He decided to stop.

James also stopped and looked back at Delfort. He gestured down the hall. Delfort shook his head. James gestured again. Delfort shook his head again. James dropped his arm and waited.

It occurred to Delfort that, perhaps, the collar James wore was responsible for his condition. It was smooth and black. Yes, Delfort thought, it has to be magical. Swiftly, his hand grabbed the collar and pulled it away with ease, long before James could stop it. He saw an unquantifiable change in James' expression.

“Please, give it back,” James said, stretching his hand out.

“What?” Delfort was confused.

“Please, sir.” Apparently the collar only kept the voice at bay.

“James. It's me. Come now, we need to get out of here.”

“Please.”

Something else kept James under its control. Delfort looked to the only thing he still wore—those puffy black knickers. Delfort sighed and handed the collar back, which James reaffixed to himself. For a moment, nothing happened.

It was all about to get interesting.

“Sorry for this, friend,” said the prince. He flew at and wrestled a mute James through the nearest door in order to relieve him of his pants.

It was all about to get very interesting, indeed.

*****

Prince Delfort's journey continues next time in "Escape! (Part Two!)"....

12 March 2012

Delfort: 12. Beautiful Distraction

This is the next installment of the adventures of young Delfort, Prince of Darscinnia. To start from the beginning, read canto one.

Previous canto: "Where?"  

Canto Twelve

Prince Delfort
by Kevin F. Story
Sunlight beamed through the window glass, softly at first, but mounting, until the full force of that great orb thrust itself onto the bed where Prince Delfort slept heavily. Rudely, the sunlight sat upon his face and warmed. Delfort tried to brush it away, but it was no use. Slowly, he opened his eyes.

Then, quickly, he sat up. It was the realisation that this place was not his home in Pilvar as his dreams had led him to believe. In the veil of sleep, he saw himself once more walking the halls of his far-off home, where he and James would wander the courtyard in search of daily activity. Some days they would walk atop the walls, staring off as far as they could see, wondering what the world that stretched out before them was like.

Here they were. The world.

Delfort glanced around the room. He was alone. His night visitors had gone after their warm welcome, and one (was it Miranda or Colette?) had been gracious enough to untie his hands. Miranda had dark brown skin and long black hair that billowed and flowed like a cloud in wind. Colette had reddish skin and blonde hair that curled in every which direction down to her shoulder. Delfort would remember them fondly, but they were no replacement for Clara, or even Jacklynne, in his opinion.

Clara, of course, was the reason he was here. He still needed to find her, but he felt that need more distantly than before.

He pulled himself out of bed and to the window. Where he expected to see the dense forest they came from was instead a great, glittering city with towering shiny buildings. People streamed in and out of these buildings, each with a sack, some with two, or three, or five. Men stood on the street drinking and singing. Women danced seductively and laughed with the men.

“Vaslegas,” Delfort whispered, his face pressed against the window, his eyes squinting against the sun and the reflections.

Beggars of various ages lined the streets, their outstretched hands dry and dusty. Someone who had entered a building with a full sack exited now with an empty one and proceeded to join the other beggars, holding the bag open as if hoping to catch rainwater. Most of these beggars went ignored and were left to fight amongst themselves for tavern scraps.

The only piece of clothing the prince found in the room was a plush maroon robe. He sniffed it before throwing it around himself, deciding it was a fresh garment, and, anyway, what else was he going to put on? He looked through a mirror at his princely self, whose hair was a bit disheveled and whose robe was too large for the young prince's frame. He tried his best to smooth his hair before gingerly peeking into the hallway.

The hallway glowed warmly with patterned amber wallpaper and plush red fabrics. Many doors lined it, and at the far end was a staircase leading down. It was quiet; perhaps everyone was downstairs enjoying breakfast or some such thing. As Delfort walked towards the stairs, a figure rose from them, a ghostly young man dressed as the fellow who let them into this house yesterday: nothing but loose black knickers and a black collar. Delfort gawked at the odd sight as it approached.

“James! What are you doing?”

James said nothing. He stopped just in front of where Delfort stood. Delfort grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him, but James threw his arms away.

“What's got into you?”

James shook his head and gestured towards the stairs. Then he began walking towards them. Before he got there, he stopped and turned to stare at Delfort. He was waiting.

“Fine,” the prince mumbled, “but this is peculiar, and I don't like it.” He stomped to the stairs, his maroon robe billowing in front as he stepped. “You hear me, James?”

James stared. He gestured down the stairs. Delfort sighed. This, he thought, was becoming very difficult, indeed.

*****

Prince Delfort's adventures will continue next time in "Escape! (Maybe!)"....

08 March 2012

Child of the Sixties

Liam always spent his hard-earned cents
On penny comics and candy mints
But he dreamed of bigger things
Needing greater change.

*****

(Thanks to @MyWordWizard for the prompt "Liam always spent...")