A week later, Shar departed amidst a military parade. He wore the finest Thyrian army uniform while riding a white horse. Emperor Thorynn and the Thyrian Honor Guard, also riding horses, escorted him through the streets as the people watched. Rover trucks armed with magic-powered weapons cleared the way for the prince and his entourage. The people cheered. They threw white flowers along the road as he went, a gesture of blessing as old as Thyrion itself.
At least, that is what Jaysynn was told later by his siblings. He avoided the procession. Nobody expected him to be there, and he was not invited. That disappointed him more than anything else. He could handle Shar being sent off to “glorious battle;” he was, after all, the eldest son and the heir to the throne. Jaysynn was not even old enough to enlist in the Thyrian military. What disappointed him was that his family did not want him there.
So, he disappeared into his room high up in the south tower of the Emperor’s Palace, locking the door behind him. He plopped on his soft bed and silky blankets and hung his head.
Knock-knock.
The prince ignored it.
Knock-knock.
“What do you care! Go away!” snapped Jaysynn.
“Open the door or I’ll break it down,” shouted a familiar voice.
The prince gasped. “I’m sorry, Dracon.” He ran to the door and opened it.
There stood the general. He looked slightly annoyed, but it quickly faded. “I have little time before I leave with your brother. I just want you to know that I want you to keep practicing and training. You cannot let your skills erode. They are what separate you not only from the Select but also from the ordinary.”
Jaysynn harrumphed. “What does it matter? My father will never truly recognize me as his son.”
The general backhanded Jaysynn across the face. The young man stared at him in shock.
“After four years of training, I expected better from you,” scolded the general. “If you have let your arrogant family kill your pride, there is no hope for you.”
Jaysynn bowed his head. “My apologies, sir.”
Dracon grabbed the prince’s chin and raised his head until their eyes met. “I am your mentor, but a prince should never bow to his general.”
A small smile cracked Jaysynn’s face.
“You were born for greatness. Never forget that.”
Jaysynn nodded.
“I shall return,” said Dracon, shaking Jaysynn’s hand. “Goodbye.”
With that, he departed.
Jaysynn watched his brother’s parade snake its way through the streets of Thyrion and disappear.
Suddenly, the general’s words sounded hollow. There went his cavalier brother, the favored son, the heir to the throne, off to prove himself in battle. He would win glory for their father, their city, and, apparently, their god. But most importantly, for himself.
What makes him think he deserves any of it? thought Jaysynn. Just because he’s a Select? That he can manipulate fire? I worked for every little thing I have. He had everything handed to him. His fist pounded the window.
* * *
The Emperor’s Palace was silent at midnight. A day of festivities had left even the “night owls” of the royal progeny tired. Only a handful of servants hard at work and guards on patrol remained awake.
So was Jaysynn.
The prince locked his door and shut off his lights. Nobody would bother him now unless it was an emergency. Jaysynn usually did this to shut out his family and be alone. But tonight, he could not even stand being in the house he was not welcome in. In the pale moonlight, he quickly changed clothes, discarding his royal trappings in favor of black running shoes, dark green athletic pants, and a matching green hooded sweatshirt. Sitting on his dresser was the knife Dracon had given him. He grabbed it and strapped it to his waistband. Just in case I need it. Then he pulled a backpack from under his bed and put it on the mattress. He unzipped it and stuffed inside a full canteen and a paper bag with a few loaves of bread. With that, he closed the backpack, slung it onto his shoulders, and tiptoed to the window.
The half-moon peering down from sky, Jaysynn surveyed the courtyard two stories below. Two guards stood at the gate a few hundred yards away. He knew there would be at least one on the front portico, but he didn’t see others. He was close to the far corner of the Palace, so the guard at the portico probably would not notice him. The guards were looking for intruders, not for people leaving the Palace. Getting back in would be tricky, but he knew the patrol patterns. If he could get out, he was confident he would manage to get back in.
Now’s my chance, he thought, strapping on a pair of black gloves.
Jaysynn opened the window and closed the curtains. Then he slipped between the curtains, spun around, and gripped the marble sill. He glanced down one more time to make sure the courtyard was clear. It was.
No turning back now, he thought.
He let go of the sill and dropped.
An instant later, another window appeared in front of Jaysynn and he gripped its sill. This window belonged to a guest room on the floor below his room. He was glad it was unoccupied.
He made a quick sweep for more guards. None.
He dropped again. Hitting the ground, he tuck-and-rolled backward.
He checked again for the guards. He had not been spotted. But the guards on patrol were probably coming this way, so Jaysynn jogged toward the 10-foot tall fence that surrounded the Palace. The gaps between the bars were too narrow for him to squeeze through, but he knew this. After making one last check for guards and any bystanders on the other side, the prince jumped onto the fence and scaled it like a spider. He climbed over the peak with a quick jump and slid down the other side, landing quietly.
Jaysynn savored his accomplishment for a second. Then he dashed across the four-lane street and ran down the alleyway. He jumped onto a dumpster and from there grabbed the ladder on a fire escape and climbed. He reached the roof of the three-story building in about twenty seconds, hopping over the ledge.
Crouching, he breathed a sigh of relief. No alarm blared from the Palace. Guards were not barking orders or threats. I did it. I really did it! He could not help but laugh.
He stood and walked to the other side of the building. Before him was the city of Thyrion with its lights flashing and shining, its sleepless people’s voices blending in a hum-like noise. The chill night air nipped at Jaysynn’s face. A deluge of smells both sweet and foul invaded his nostrils. It was all an invitation.
I’ve never been in the city at night. How many nights have I sat at my window and wondered what happened at this hour? Now I can find out.
With that, he backed up, dashed toward the ledge, and leaped across the narrow alley to the next building.
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