The young prince breathed new life into the kingdom, and all fondly watched as he progressed through the early stages of childhood. The son loved his father, who would always help him prepare for sleep each night, and would often calm his fears by telling him the story of the seven sons; when the boy would do something well or wrong, the father would tell him stories of his elder brothers, Vivere and Emortuus.
Despite the king’s older age, he remained gentle and dedicated as he trained his prince in the necessities of life. The king relied on the assistance of his house servants to help raise this special child. The young prince very early on became attached to the cook and his wife. The cook was a tall, caring, funny man — his wife was much shorter, quick, and very discerning. They played with the boy and taught the boy as if he was their own; the cook's wife was the servant who fed the child as a baby. The cooks loved and respected the king, and worked in unity with him as they strove to build the prince into a wise and powerful king. One day as the boy returned from a day full of fun and learning with the cooks, and other servants in and around the home — lying in bed he innocently asked his smiling father, "Why don't papa and mamma cook have children?" The young prince was old enough to understand that married couples typically had children together. The father's disposition sobered and he asked his son to kneel down beside the bed. As the boy kneeled at his father's feet, the father took his hands and explained that around the same time his mother died, that the cooks had lost their only child at birth, "they have not been able to have children since. On the night your mother died, I asked them if they would come live with us in our home, to help raise you," the father continued, "son, they don't only serve you — you serve them." The boy smiled and the father pulled him up from off the floor and into his arms to give him a very full hug. WHEN THE YOUNG PRINCE turned eight, he desired to go see the markets within the neighboring village, across the river. He had watched the cooks leave the castle to travel to the neighboring village for a few years now, and they would always return with exciting things. As he watched the cooks return again from the village, he decided that when the evening came he would ask his father if he could go with them next time. The young prince knew that he could talk to his father about anything, and that every time he had a question he could kneel down beside his bed at his father's feet, and the father would explain things to him. Sometimes the answers father gave made sense, and sometimes they did not. But no matter the answers, he always felt loved. The father knew that this was coming and was pleased. The innate desire to journey that his ancestors had, naturally reared its head in his youngest son. He knew this would give his prince valuable experience; that night he granted him permission to go. The king did not want him to go with the cooks; they only went once a week and their visit often fell on the same day the large nets were dropped for fishing — which could be dangerous for children. The father requested that he go tomorrow with the tailor who needed more supplies for his sewing. The boy was disappointed; he liked the cooks most, and the tailor often made him clothing that was uncomfortable. But, he didn't complain, thanked his father, and was excited to see the village. THE NEXT MORNING THE young prince excitedly prepared himself to leave with the tailor to the market. As they walked to the large wooden ferry the young prince held the tailor's hand — at the tailors request. When on the ferry the boy was slightly frightened and held the tailor's hand a little tighter. Arriving at the industrial village, they first obtained the sewing materials, and spent the rest of the time looking around the farmers market at the edge of the village closer to the fields. The boy was amazed at everything, it was fun for him to see where mamma and papa cook got all of the food, it was frustrating when the tailor rushed him past things he wanted to see. He was surprised that the people wore different clothing than he was used to; he watched curiously as other children played with each other and ran through the streets. He longed to join them, but knew that the tailor would not approve. At the end of the market, he saw a woman and a young girl his age selling sunflowers — the cooks never brought sunflowers back to the castle. He asked the tailor why they were selling sunflowers. The tailor explained that this young widow was poor and would go to the outskirts of fields and pick wild sunflowers to sell. "You eat the seeds, or you can place the flower in the window," he said; the young prince asked if they could go see them. Even though the tailor wanted to return to the castle — he had a lot of projects to tend to — he granted permission. The young prince wandered from the tailor to the stand, and admired the large sunflowers. The little girl leaned over the counter of the worn wooden stand and observed the little boy. The boy looked up and saw her staring at him — he was fascinated by her long braided hair. He felt a feeling bubble up inside him that he had never felt before. "Are you going to buy one?" she asked; "I'd like to," the boy replied. He reached into his pocket and grabbed a small bronze piece he had found in the kitchen earlier that day, and happily presented it to the girl. The tailor was behind him now and explained that they were selling the sunflowers for a silver piece each — the equivalent of two bronze pieces. The boy then felt another feeling he had never felt before. The mother became aware of the situation, noticed that this was the young prince, and panicking said, "One piece is fine!" The tailor felt a twinge of pain — himself having been acquainted with poverty. Sensing the prince's confusion he took the piece from the boy’s hand, quickly pulled out a bronze piece of his own, and with a kind smile gave the money to the widow. The little girl then asked the boy, "Which sunflower would you like?" She quickly pointed to a smaller flower nestled in a bushel lying on the right side of the stand, "That one is my favorite," she said. It was sticking out above the other flowers in the bushell. "I'll have that one," the boy said with a smile. The little girl waited to grab the flower as they stared curiously at each other and smiled. The tailor and the woman exchanged a brief knowing glance. The woman grinned; the children giggled; the tailor grabbed the small flower and walked away with the young prince. WHEN THE BOY GOT back to the castle he excitedly ran to the kitchen and told the cooks about everything! They listened gleefully when he described what they knew to be his first infatuation; they were glad they left the bronze piece on the counter, but were uncomfortable that it wasn't enough for the prince to get what he wanted, they intended on paying back the tailor. He presented the sunflower and explained that he didn't understand what the tailor meant when he said he could eat it, so the cooks taught him. He admired the sunflower as he sat at the large wooden table and resolved not to eat its seeds, but to put it in his window. THAT NIGHT WHEN THE king returned home he was immediately met by the tailor, who gave him a comprehensive report of the prince's day at the market. When the king heard all that the boy had experienced he looked down at the floor and put his hand to his beard; he scratched his jaw then gently thanked the tailor. Changing the subject, the king asked the tailor about his current sewing projects. The king listened and sustained a meaningful conversation about this man's passion, however, it was clear he had delved into deep thought. The king knew he had to explain something to the young prince that he thought he had a few more years to prepare the boy for. It was important the prince understood this, but he was unsure if his young son would understand. THE YOUNG BOY WAS sent off to his room by the cooks with a smile on his face. He walked into his room and saw his father sitting on the side of his bed; he knelt at his father's feet and told him all about his exciting day. His energy steadily grew softer as he neared the events at the sunflower stand. He twirled the flower in his little hands and expressed honestly the feelings and memories associated with the tender plant. His story ended in a soft smile; he blankly stared at his father's legs and thought of his new friend. He looked up to his father, anticipating his comments, and saw that he was deep in thought as well; the boy was confused and sought validation from his father. The father sympathized with the boy, and then simply explained that he had done nothing wrong, but that it was difficult and often painful to develop friendships with people you would not be able to see very often. The king did not know how to explain the caste to his son, and what a prince should be looking for in regards to the kingdom's future queen. The prince felt inside that it was not likely he would be permitted to see his friend again. Thoroughly disappointed, he stomped to the largest space in his room and threw the sunflower at the stone floor! The father watched as the boy revolted at his own behavior and uncharacteristic anger; the boy’s face fell, and he immediately dropped to his hands and knees to examine the flower. He realized it wasn't damaged — yet began to cry. The father stepped over to his distressed son, and lifted him and the flower off the floor into his strong arms. The boy nestled into his father and cried, as the father placed the sunflower on the high window seal. He laid there with the boy in his bed until he fell asleep. THE YOUNG PRINCE GREW older, and as he entered steadily into his teenage years he continued to encounter all kinds of flowers; he met roses, daisies, lilies, and tulips. The prince began to understand the caste, yet remained unscathed from prejudice and vanity; he was kind to all and retained the sweetness and emotional maturity that hallmarked his childhood. As the prince felt new emotions and experienced more things he adopted greater portions of his father's character and power. He drew ever closer to the cooks, appreciating their fine balance of dignity and light heartedness. Many late nights were spent with the king, the tailor, and the cooks sitting around the comfy wooden table that had once seemed so big to the prince, laughing together and telling stories. The tailor continued to make the boy beautiful yet durable clothing; the prince liked this, he enjoyed being outside and climbing things. The prince appreciated beautiful and excellent things; he loved the mountains, and created many wonderful works of art. The prince often requested to travel with the entertainers to the southern settlements. Though the father strongly encouraged the prince to explore music and dancing, art and playing, he did not always grant this request, and when he did he would always travel to the southern settlements with him. In time the father helped him become acquainted with the whole of their kingdom. Though the kingdom was filled with many good natured and kind civilians, the king knew all too well of the evil that often grew within desperate hearts and injured minds. The father gave sufficient attention to his son and encouraged his desire to journey, while also instilling wisdom. Everyone was amazed at how seriously the king took his responsibility as a father, the two roles seemed to always be inseparably magnified. They spent many hours traveling through the northern mountain range together, hunting wild beasts and admiring nature. The king taught the prince how to skin animals and prepare furs for the tailor, he educated him about the different plants, and showed him how to create fire, providing correction when necessary. The boy continued to ask his father questions, kneeling at his feet. As the boy grew in intelligence he would occasionally challenge or doubt some of the answers he received from his father. The father was patient with his son and wanted to answer every question the prince asked, but sometimes the boy didn't really want the answers, or wasn’t willing to act on the one's he received. The father at times felt that his son didn't trust him, even though the prince had every reason to. ONE EARLY EVENING, AS the prince walked with the cooks to the ferry, returning from a fun day of shopping at the market — they were stopped by a man in tattered clothing who moved into their path. The man had an unkempt beard and was looking down at the ground whispering to himself. The cooks became afraid, and papa cook stood in front of the prince and his wife. The man looked up at the cook with tired and bloodshot eyes; the stranger’s dark eyes flashed to the prince then back to the cook. The cook said calmly yet firmly, "Please move." The man lurched forward and seized the cook by the throat — they fell backward and the cook gasped for breath. The prince stood there stunned. The cook’s wife began screaming for help — then hit the man on the side of the head with a spade from their cart. The man scrambled to the side holding his head — he quickly rose up and hit her across the face with the back of his bloodied hand. Intense anger boiled within the prince and took control of his limbs — he charged at the stranger and tackled him to the floor. The prince began to beat the stranger hard across the injured side of his head. The man furiously threw the boy off him — the prince slammed hard into a wooden crate. With blood falling from the stranger’s hair and beard, he began crawling toward the prince — when suddenly he was stopped by a long sharp blade being held stationary across his neck. The king stood tall next to the man on all fours, holding a large sword to the beggar's neck. When the stranger realized who it was, he shuffled into the corner of the street holding his temple and hiding his face. The now gathered crowd stood silently and watched the scene closely; the king put his sword away, and walked to the man. The king standing above the beggar gently called him by name; the man relaxed his body and gave an audible yet incoherent response. The king descended to the beggar’s level and lifted him in his arms like a child. The king carried him and set him on a small wooden stairway next to his guards. They cuffed him and escorted the criminal to prison. THE REMAINING GUARDS TENDED to the cooks; the king lifted his son in like manner and carried him into a nearby blacksmith shop. The prince was yelling and squirming in pain, his shoulder and back hurt unbearably. The father sat him down on a wooden bench inside. The blacksmith and his apprentice ceased their work and inquired of the king — who then respectfully requested privacy. The blacksmith and his apprentice immediately walked into another section of the shop and closed the door behind them. The prince was clearly distressed. Light from the crucible shined on his father's sharp yet kind features as he examined his son's back and shoulder; he asked him to try and raise his arm, so the boy did — a sharp and twisting pain restricted the movement and the boy winced. The prince sat grasping his shoulder, and with tired eyes he stared forward looking at the fire. “Your shoulder is out of its joint,” the king told the prince; he further inquired, “Do you trust me?” — the boy nodded. At father's request and with his help, the prince raised his arm high above his head and felt his shoulder lock into place — he let out a grunt at the sudden excruciating pain — the pain faded away. The boy breathed heavily as his father sat down next to him. The father put his arms around his son and held him; he told him everything he knew about the beggar, and asked his son to forgive the man. ABOUT A WEEK LATER the prince was fully recovered, and the king began to train him in combat. Every day, most often in the evenings, they sparred in the courtyard behind their home — the king was a very skilled and powerful swordsman. Over years of practice the young prince steadily obtained the stature of a capable young man. The son trusted his father more so now than ever. When the father gave him answers — he didn't doubt; when things did not make sense — he listened patiently. The son began asking more refined and sincere questions. The prince trusted the king, and the father continued to prove that he would always do what was best for his son.
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