Kamarani made his way to the stables, the large building standing tall against the strong castle walls he knew so well. Each step he took echoed in the wide courtyard, creating a rhythmic sound that broke the quietness that often surrounded him. He paid no attention to the glances, the slight changes in how people held themselves, or the eyes that turned away from him like a shadow. He felt out of place, a prince wearing a worn cloak of bad luck, reminding everyone of a past they wanted to forget. The pity he felt was like a thick sweetness he could hardly stand; the hateful looks were sharp and cold like ice fragments. Some whispers seemed judgmental, floating on the air like harmful seeds, while others barely hid their laughter that pricked at his skin, Kamarani had learned to live with it all.
He created a barrier around himself, a strong wall of calmness against their daily attacks. It wasn't that he didn't feel hurt or humiliated by his lower status. The insults still got to him, and the scorn still bothered him, but he wouldn't let them defeat him. He refused to give anyone the pleasure of seeing him break. If this was what he had to endure on his journey toward his goal, then so be it. He would carry their judgment and scorn with pride, keeping his head high and his spirit intact. He would push through.
The stables appeared ahead of him as a kind of refuge. The smell of hay, leather, and warm horses brought comfort to his tired heart.
Inside, the air was filled with soft snorts, hooves shifting on packed earth, and the steady swish of tails. This familiar sound brought back comforting memories of a time that once held promise, before darkness had taken over.
He didn't need any directions or help. He knew exactly where Pirtron was located. He could feel it, like a gentle pull inside him, a connection built over ten years of shared moments, whispered secrets, and unspoken understandings. This bond went beyond just ownership; it was a deep friendship that had survived many challenges. It became his lifeline, providing comfort in his troubled times.
Kamarani had worried that losing touch with Fronze, his dragon, would cut off the strong link he felt to the animal world. He feared this loss would numb his senses and leave him feeling lost. However, that wasn't true at all. Every winter without fail, he would sense a stirring within himself, a natural desire to fly through the skies, to feel the wind , and to breathe in the fresh mountain air. It was Fronze, his incredible dragon, imprisoned deep within him and limited by a nonsensical bangle .He was longing to stretch his wings and soar among the peaks.
Their connection remained strong, a sign of their lasting bond and a glimmer of hope shining through the growing darkness.
Kamarani walked over to Pirtron, his stunning brown stallion. The horse's stall was located at the back of the stables, a large and roomy space that suited his size and personality. As Kamarani approached, Pirtron raised his head, his dark eyes meeting Kamarani's with a focus that showed he was gentle at heart. There was a deep understanding in those eyes, silently recognizing the heavy burden Kamarani carried.
They communicated without words, using glances and small gestures developed through years of friendship. Pirtron felt upset, a low rumble of unhappiness coming from his chest. He sensed that Kamarani was going to leave him. Though he didn't fully understand it, he could feel the change in Kamarani's energy, the finality that surrounded him like a cloak. He didn't want Kamarani to leave him; he had grown used to him being there, enjoying the gentle touches of his hand and the soft sound of his voice.
Yet, on some level, Pirtron understood. He recognized the pain in Kamarani's eyes and how sorrow weighed down his spirit. Deep down, he knew that Kamarani had to act out of necessity, pushed b the cause of his own destiny.
It had been five years since the carefree and clever prince had disappeared, leaving behind an angry and withdrawn person who now stood before him. Five long years since a tragedy changed Kamarani's life, taking away his joy, optimism, and freedom.
Five years had passed since he became a pawn in a power struggle, a victim of political games, with little to no choices of his own.
As Kamarani looked into Pirtron's understanding eyes, he tried to express his feelings and intentions. He assured him with his gaze that he would return. Silently, he promised to come back for him. He would return as a stronger person, sone ready for anything, that when he happen to come back he will reclaim all that he has lost.
He would take back his life, freedom, and shape his own future.
He wished he could speak the promises that filled his heart out loud. But he didn't dare to do so. His uncle Shekel's watchful eyes seemed to be everywhere, always alert and ready. They felt like shadows following him, unseen yet ever-present, watching every move he made and judging every action he took. Even as Kamarani gently groomed Pirtron's thick coat, he could sense those many eyes that showed no effort to hide their watching. They were his captors, silently tormenting him, a constant reminder of his imprisonment.
He kept grooming Pirtron , moving in a comforting rhythm that calmed both horse and himself. He ran his fingers through the soft hair, feeling the warmth of Pirtron's body and the gentle rise and fall of his breathing. The familiar scent of the horse grounded him amidst the swirl of emotions.
As they continued their silent connection, Kamarani suddenly heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps approaching. He realized without doubt that his time was running out the moment he had both feared and expected had finally come.
He could no longer postpone his departure. He had said goodbye, made promises, and gathered his courage. It was time to confront his fate, whatever it might bring.
"Prince Kamarani," a loud voice called from behind him, breaking the stillness of the stables. It was one of the guards assigned by Shekel, a heavyset man with a serious face and keen eyes. He was just one of many, serving as a constant reminder of his lost freedom.
"We've finished loading everything in the wagon. His Majesty has commanded that we leave right away."
The guard's tone was short and lacked any kindness or respect. Still, he referred to Kamarani as "Prince," following the formality they had to maintain despite his reduced status. After all, he came from royal blood, the same lineage as the King himself. Even in his downfall, he remained a prince,.
Without showing any emotions, Kamarani stood tall with squared shoulders and held his chin high. He faced the guard with an expression that showed nothing of the storm inside him. He nodded slightly to acknowledge the command.
"I am ready," he replied, keeping his voice steady to hide the his true emotions, he was ready to leave all his memories behind, leave his home and fight.
He took one last lingering look at Pirtron, silently saying goodbye with his gaze. He squeezed Pirtron's shoulder gently, feeling the warmth through his coat one final time. Then, taking a deep breath, he turned and walked toward the waiting wagon, leaving part of his heart behind in the familiar comfort of the stables.
The wagon was a basic, practical design made from rough wood and strong wheels. It carried supplies for the journey ahead. Kamarani noticed the heavy sacks of grain, bundles of dried meat, and barrels of water. It was obvious this trip would be long, sending him far away into the unknown.
He climbed onto the wagon and settled onto a hard wooden bench. The guard cracked his whip, causing the horses to move forward, pulling the wagon out of the stables and into the busy courtyard. Kamarani took one last look back and saw Pirtron in his stall, watching him with sad eyes. He silently said goodbye, promising he would return.
As the wagon rumbled through the castle gates and onto the open road, Kamarani felt a wave of finality wash over him. He was leaving behind everything familiar and the one person in the palace he loved.
The road ahead would be long and tough, filled with challenges. But he was prepared. He had faced scorn, pity, and humiliation. He had survived darkness, despair, and loss. Through these hardships, he had become stronger, more resilient, and even more committed.
He would confront whatever came next with bravery and conviction. He would never give up or surrender; he would keep his goal in sight. He intended to return stronger and wiser to take back what belonged to him. He would make those who wronged him pay for stealing his life.
He would seek his revenge.