The rest of the week flew by quickly. Zitao mostly slept all the way. It was the best week of his miserable life. There were no more yells, punches, or waking up at the middle of night to steal food from the kitchens. 

 

 

Zitao was lucky that the only time the merchant stopped to check in the back was to eat, and when he did, it was only once a day. The merchant seemingly hated to sleep in the back and rather spend his money sleeping in a soft bed at a tavern. He wanted to move quickly so Zitao wasn’t worried on being discovered. 

 

 

He wondered what the Oh Kingdom was like. Would it have a wonderful, green forest? A coast where the sea shined for miles and miles? Zitao liked the sea. The only time he was able to see it and enjoy it was when he was a child and his father took him. It was beautiful. He remembered the salty smell, the breeze tickling his face, the warm sand under his feet. 

 

 

The sea was what fascinated him the most. In the eyes of a toddler, it was a majestic beast. So big and wide and so blue. The sky was blue. Everything was blue. His little toddler mind was mind blown. 

 

 

Zitao also remembered being ushered into its waters. His father was holding him in his arms and he experimentally dipped in a small, chubby leg. Zitao squealed, the water was cold, but he wanted more. He squirmed out his father's grasp, trying to reach it, touch the water. 

 

 

As much as he tried, it kept slipping from his hand. The blue substance was escaping he thought sadly. The King must have picked up on his expression because the next thing he knew, Zitao was sitting on the shoreline, the water gently coming up his sides, caressing him. 

 

 

The water rose near to his face. Zitao could feel the salty taste, it was overwhelming. He couldn’t breathe. Zitao was drowning and his father was no longer there. Nobody was there to save him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It had only been a dream. He woke up, his heart racing. The dream felt so real, Zitao believed he was still a kid and his father was still alive. How Zitao hated this mind for tricking him like that. The salt he tasted were from his tears that begun to stream down his face. Was he pathetic for breaking down again?

 

 

It was still a smack to the face, to realize his only loving parent had passed. Life cheated him. Zitao wanted to scream his throat raw. Why him? Why hadn’t life taken him instead?

 

 

“Oi!”

 

 

Their wagon came to an abrupt halt, startling Zitao in the back, momentarily distracting him from his sadness. 

 

 

“What do you want you boy?! I need to get going!”

 

 

“You are trespassing and entering. I need to see some identification.”

 

 

“Says who?”

 

 

There was a pause. “Well...The Oh Kingdom has bulked on up on its security recently and they want to know who goes in and out.”

 

 

“My face should be enough you lowly peasant. I am a merchant and need to get to the market now. So if you can stand to the side and leave.”

 

 

“But the Oh Kingdom has bulked up on its security and they want to know who goes in and out.”

 

 

“Well tell your king I need to get going. Now move.”

 

 

“But the Oh Kingdom has bulked up on its security—”

 

 

Having enough of the young guard’s antics, the exasperated merchant swerved the wagon to the left and entered the open gates swiftly. 

 

 

Zitao looked at they boy from the back, wondering how he looked like. He didn’t see much since dust was flying everywhere, blocking his view. He caught wisps of bewilderment on the poor guard’s face. 

 

 

The wagon was slowing down and Zitao realized he was officially somewhere else, this Oh Kingdom. Eventually, he would have to leave the comfort of the wagon or else face the wrath of the merchant. Zitao most certainly didn’t want that. He shivered at the thought of meeting him face to face. The merchant almost ran over the young guard, for pete’s sake! 

 

 

There were more voices outside, louder and vibrant. It was the distinct atmosphere of a town. Zitao has never been to a town before. The closest he ever got to seeing one was from his window and it didn’t do justice. 

 

 

Sometimes Zitao wondered if he wasn’t born a prince. Maybe if he had a been a peasant or a civilian, life would have been more agreeable. The castle was often quiet, but the town was noises everywhere. Noise coming from wailing babies, noise coming from vendors trying to sell their goods, noise from people prating about.  

 

 

Life must be nice for these people. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Yifan’s eyes snapped open. 

 

 

The last thing he remembered was Zitao’s scared face and a swing. Then, blackout.  

 

 

Waking up alone, in the middle of a forest, was not what he had planned in mind. Yifan had anticipated Zitao to give in and tell him what his proof was. 

 

 

His mother was right. Zitao was not be underestimated despite his weak appearance. Look past it, and he was faced with a cunning individual. Zitao was indeed despicable.

 

 

Attempting to sit himself up,  he felt something wrapped around him. A bed sheet, Yifan identified. All his five senses were beginning to awaken. His head felt heavy and still hurt. Slowly, Yifan brought up one hand to touch the bandages. The bandages, he noticed, were well secured and wrapped with careful effort. Zitao couldn’t have possibly—

 

 

Zitao was not like that. Zitao was a bad child who didn’t like Yifan. Zitao only wanted to mess with his feelings and make him feel less than he was. 

 

 

Mother was probably worried about his whereabouts. Standing slowly as to not make himself feel woozy, Yifan walked baby steps. Not making his second step, he heard a clink, his foot coming in contact with an object. He looked down and stiffened. 

 

 

He had seen it many times on the head of the king. The gold crown with its many gems, was radiant as ever. 

 

 

So this was Zitao’s so called proof. Of course the old man had given his favorite child the dratted head piece. Zitao always got the best things and Yifan always received the short end of the stick. 

 

 

“Stupid Zitao. You always get your way.”

 

 

Yifan was having an internal debate whether to hurl it across the stream or keeping it. He wanted to be king alright but the crown felt heavy in his hands. Was it guilt he was feeling? Contempt? 

 

 

No. Zitao only left it to mock you, his mind told him. He left you for dead and left the crown as warning. Zitao hates you. 

 

 

Not giving it a second thought, Yifan flung the crown straight into the stream.  

 

 

“I will find you, Zitao. Mark my words. Nobody looks down on me.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Zitao made sure to look out first before making his move. Peering out, he deemed it safe. His sword was safely tied to his new leather sword belt. The dirt-brown pouch he carried had his bread and cheese. Zitao was all set to jump.

 

 

He felt his guilt gnawing at his conscious for taking the merchant’s things. Zitao had a legitimate reason but that didn’t ameliorate his situation. Stealing was bad, period. His mind was resilient on reminding him that bothersome detail over and over. He never was going to live this down.

 

 

And so jumped he did. There were gasps of surprise as the townsmen looked at him with suspicion.  Zitao landed with his good arm but his face got most of the damage. Cautiously, he stood up and smiled hesitantly:

 

 

“Hello!”

 

 

The wagon was leaving farther and farther. Surely nobody was going to run up and tell the merchant some random boy happened to hitchhike on the back of his wagon and made a grand entrance by falling flat on his face. 

 

 

“By my hare’s foot, what are you doing?”

 

 

“I...am on a...trip. Yes, a trip to the Oh kingdom. I see I have arrived to my destination,” Zitao responded, looking around his surroundings. 

 

 

“Where you from, laddie?”

 

 

The Wu Kingdom, the castle on top of the hill. “Nowhere.”

 

 

“Have you a name?”

 

 

“My name is Tao.” He was not Zitao anymore, not the prince, nothing of the past.

 

 

“Well I must say, that was quite a spectacle. With all the jumping and the falling,” the guy chortled.

 

 

Zitao didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Yifan walked carefully to his mother’s private quarters, taking measured steps to not upset the ache in his head. He doesn’t knock.

 

 

“Mother, I’m sorry for keeping you waiting.”

 

 

The Queen perked up at hearing her son’s voice, her afternoon tea long forgotten. “Where were you, my son?” She enveloped him in her arms, squeezing him to make sure he was still there.

 

 

“What happened? You’re hurt!”

 

 

Yifan relaxed into her embrace. “I’m fine. I take my absence has greatly affected you. There were guards everywhere.” And you never drink tea.

 

 

“Of course I was! You were gone for three days!”

 

 

Three days? He had been knocked out for three days?!

 

 

“I see.” Yifan replied in a clipped voice.

 

 

Zitao was going to pay good. He was more sure of it now. Zitao had tried to kill him and dump his body in a remote place so nobody would find him. 

 

 

“I’ll go get the maids to attend you. Sit, darling.” His mother looked quite frantic, not quite believing her son was back and wounded terribly. Yifan had never sported ugly wounds. He had never got hurt physically. 

 

 

“Don’t. I feel fine.” His head was beginning to pound. Anger was shooting through his veins. 

 

 

“But Yifan, you’re injured. Please let them look at you,” his mother implored. 

 

 

“Mother, listen to me. Zitao escaped.”

 

 

The Queen’s face made a complete 360. “He did what? Explain yourself. Now.”

 

 

He spilled. “I wanted to know how Zitao was going to prove he was king. I admit, I was naive and let my guard down. I got carried away by my emotions and let him out. He tricked me into following him, somewhere in the forest.There he knocked me out, and left me for dead. This,” Yifan pointed to his bandaged head, “Was his attempt at ‘killing’ me. He didn’t succeed obviously. But mark my words mother, I will have the last laugh. Zitao is dead to me.”

 

 

Victoria gripped his hand, giving him an assuring squeeze.

 

 

“Together, we will get him.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Oh prince was lazing around, staring at the ceiling of his bed chamber. He felt lazy to move. He preferred the comfort of his wool blanket than being outside. Winter was his least favorite season. 

 

 

One because of the cold and two, because of training. His father glorified war. The Oh Kingdom was small but had one of the best militaries. 

 

 

Winter meant military training was approaching and Sehun dreaded the mornings where he would have to wake up at an ungodly hour and practice whatever his father had in mind: archery, sword practice, hand-to-hand combat. Everything possibly known to man about military practice and tactics. 

 

 

A knock on his door interrupted his thoughts. Sehun didn’t want to answer. Maybe the person would go away if he stayed quiet. 

 

 

“Oh Sehun! I know you are in there! Open this door or I will come in and personally drag you down to eat.” Baixian, one of the servants who worked in the kitchens and one of his close friends (his only best friend), could be super annoying sometimes, and frankly, quite invasive of his personal space.

 

 

It’s not like he didn’t want to eat. He was not in the mood, that’s all. 

 

 

“I will count to three.”

 

 

Sehun rolled his eyes. “You can’t even count. Your threat is thereby, useless.”

 

 

“Aha! You are in there! And I can too count! Not really high numbers but still.”

 

 

Pfft. The audacity of the short male. He can be too confident of his abilities at times. 

 

 

“Sehun come ooon.” Baixian whined. “I’m hungry.”

 

 

“Eat by yourself.”

 

 

“But I want to eat with you.”

 

 

Baixian was impossible. Especially when he was hungry. Sehun felt his eye twitch in annoyance. 

 

 

“Fine.” 

 

 

He heard a muffled cheer on the other side of his door. Oh, Baixian. What an eccentric little man.