The Ghost Prince

David had never run so quickly before in his life. Fire grew in his legs and lungs as he sprinted through the open field, hearing nothing but his own gasping breaths. Donning a fine silk cloak, the Prince stood out like a wildflower in an empty plain. Soon the royal guard would be upon him, and soon he would be dead.

Crows cackled up high on their barren perches. Dead crops sprawled as far as the eye could see. It had been hours since David had fled the castle. He never realized how expansive the farmland was outside of the keep. Beyond them, where he hoped to seek refuge, was barrens far out to the east. It would be much easier for him to hide there than in the rolling fields.

He made his was out of the dead cabbage crop, shaking the mud and rotting plants off of his boots. He scanned the horizon and was met with an unusual sight. Nestled on top of a lone hill was a single farm house. Planks of wood crumbled off the walls and onto the ground, and the structure was slanted as if it were about to fall at any moment. It was desolate looking, but the smoke rising from the chimney indicated that the house was still inhabited. David’s initial instincts told him to go around and stay out of sight. He could not risk running into any other people in case they had gotten word had spread this far. Even if they didn’t know, the guards would surely use them to extract information on David’s whereabouts. All signs pointed to the latter option, which was to keep running. 

Yet beneath the layers of reason there was a voice whispering in his head. You are tired, the voice said. Go to the house. It will keep you safe. The soothing nature of that voice ceased the flow of adrenaline. David collapsed to the ground. Letting gravity take over, he began to sob into the earth. I do not deserve this, he thought to himself. He yearned more than ever for the comfort of his family hearth, for the libraries of endless books, or the bountiful feasts from his younger days. Around him the empty fields were a reminder that memories of feasts were just that. Memories. 

 The distant rumble in the sky snapped him out of his daze. At first he mistook it for the sound of horses, but as soon as the first raindrop fell he breathed a sigh of relief. The cold ground began to seep into his clothing, and once again that inner voice spoke to him. There is a fire, it said, they must have food. As if on command David’s stomach growled. His desire to keep running waned quickly, and now his only goal was to reach the house before the storm came. 

His legs shook as he hiked up the slope towards the forlorn house. Atop the hill was a good vantage point of the central kingdom. Far in the distance from where David had come stood his home castle. A shadow of storm clouds obscured the high towers and began to envelope the whole fortress. It was hard to believe everyone in his home wanted him dead. If he looked any longer he would begin to cry again, so he turned back towards the house.

In the front of the house was a red door with a crane-like bird carved on the outside. The frosted window obscured everything inside, save for a warm orange glow. He bundled himself in his cloak and knocked on the door. The sound echoed for a long moment on the other side of the door. It reminded him of being back at home, when he and his brother Ben used to play hide and seek in the castle. David always knew where to find Ben because he would slam the doors shut, and the sound of old wood hitting stone would echo through the hallways. But unlike the sounds of family and countrymen that filled the castle halls with life, this house seemed to be devoid of any presence whatsoever. 

David knocked a second time. He put his ear closer to the door, wondering if he had imagined the glow coming from the outside. Before he could check the window again he heard a loud clunking sound from the other side of the door. Gently it cracked open, groaning as it swung on the old rusty hinges. Another rumble thundered overhead, bringing down the another couple of raindrops. Fastening his muddy cloak, David grabbed the edge of the door and fully opened it. Inside the house was nothing like he expected. In fact, it seemed completely impossible.

Tucked in a corner at the opposite end of the house was a roaring hearth packed with fresh wood. There were paintings covering every inch of the walls, most of which were portraits. Tall shelves were stocked with all sorts of oddities, ranging from old, stringless puppets to strange insects preserved in jars. The single room was mostly dark, and the air was thick with a sweet smell lingering underneath the scent of firewood. It was such an unusual place for a farmer to live, but David was too mesmerized by the sheer amount of curiosities that filled the cozy space. He was so entranced that he failed to notice a lone figure sitting in an ornate chair, facing directly at David. 

“Please, come in.” His voice was rough but comforting. David could not tell much about him since he was obscured by shadow, but he sounded quite old.

“I’m terribly sorry to bother you.” David reverted to old manners, as if he were interrupting an important meeting. “There is a storm, you see, and there isn’t much shelter around here.”

The man leaned back in his chair. “You need not explain yourself. You are welcome to stay for as long as you need.” Maybe he was being optimistic, but David trusted the man. He gingerly entered the house, closing the door behind him. As soon as the door shut all sounds of wind and thunder ceased. The only thing David could hear was the crackling of the fire.

“I would appreciate it if you removed your cloak and boots.” The man said. “I like to keep things tidy around here.”

David happily obliged. As welcoming as this place was, he instinctively felt the need to be cautious. The eccentric and enticing decoration reminded him of a gallery or museum. Light from the fire cast a soft glow over all of the objects, ending in darkness with the strange man.

“Everyone has the same reaction.” The stranger chuckled. “There’s a lot of history in here.” 

David hung his cloak and moved towards the fire. Warmth radiated through his body. “You must be well traveled. I’m jealous. I never got to travel much.”

The man said nothing for a moment. Whenever he was silent, it seemed as if his presence itself disappeared. After giving David time to warm up he spoke again. “Come, have a seat if you will.”

He owed the man a talk, but David would have to come up with a convincing lie. A difficult task considering his silk cloak and jeweled brooch. David suddenly felt afraid, realizing that this man could very easily rob him or worse. 

“Thank you for letting me stay. My name is David.”

“David.” The man repeated. He remained lounging in the shadows as he spoke. “Are you far from home, David?”

“Yes, very far.” Far for a squirrel, maybe. “I got separated from my family as we were travelling. Until the storm came I was on my way to meet them.”

The man pointed to his cape hanging on the wall. “Judging by that fine cloak your family must royalty.” He let the words sink in. “You must be one of the Aldans.”

A sinking feeling dropped in David’s gut. “How do you know I’m an Aldan?”

“I’m a good guesser.” The man chuckled. “You’re in a lot of trouble, Prince David.”

“Please.” David was ready to run again, but he hoped to convince the man first. “It wasn’t my fault! Someone is trying to pin the blame on me, but nothing that has happened has been my fault. I am not a sorcerer!” 

His heart was booming in his chest. There was no way to tell if the man would listen to him.

“A terrible famine has plagued the land." The strange man said. "Many have lost their lives. The people need something, or someone, to blame.” 

“I need to convince them that I’m not a sorcerer. I did not do any of this.”

“They won’t believe you.” 

David was stunned. “I’m sorry?”

“In their struggle and pain the people have resorted to chasing some semblance of justice in an event where none are to blame. You have become the target of all of their fears. Rationality cannot resolve this.”

The warmth from the fire now seemed distant. Something in the way the man spoke convinced David that it was the truth. He would be killed by his own people, and there was nothing he could do. Tears welled in his eyes, obscuring the sight of the stranger even more. 

“I don’t know what to do. I cannot leave my family, my brother--”

“I can help you.” 

David wiped his eyes and looked at the man. That familiar anxiety came back. What reason did he have to trust him? 

“How?”

“I only need something from you.”

His gut was right. The man was exploiting him. It makes sense considering all of the random objects in the room. “I don’t have anything to give. It's not like I had time to take my belongings before running away!”

“I only need your name.” The man leaned forward out of the darkness. He was pale and slender, hunched over like he was almost in pain. What made David yell out in terror was the man’s face. He had no eyes, just two dark holes that lead to nowhere. 

“What are you?”

“I can save you from your death. David Aldan will cease to exist.”

The portraits on the wall stared at him. Complete strangers in every direction, every one of their presences suddenly becoming overwhelming.

“You can do that? Where will I need to go?”

“You can go back home if you’d like.”

“But you told me they would kill me no matter what.”

“They would kill the firstborn prince David Aldan. When I take your name, you would be free to enter as a stranger.”

The thought of looking upon his family and being greeted as a stranger made David’s skin crawl. He almost would have preferred their wrath. It wouldn’t be home at all, not without his family in his life. But in reality home was already gone. His life was forever changed, and now he had the option to erase it all together.

“Who would I become?” David asked.

“Anyone they choose to be. They are free to pick their own names.”

The Aldan name was always a source of pride for David. When he was young he would spend hours with his mother, Queen Lilith Aldan, staying up late reading about the history of his family and the founding of their kingdom. There was power in the name, and to give it up would be to give up the foundation of his very being. He would never produce an heir, never continue the traditions of home. All of his connections uprooted and cast away.

“Why should I believe you?” It was a valid question, and yet David felt that it was only to bide more time. The man wore a very stern face now, abandoning all charm in favor of expressing an almost desperate demeanor. 

“Once you walk out that door, Prince David Aldan will be no more. That is the ultimate truth. I am simply giving you a chance to control the means in which that truth will unfold. Believe me or not, your fate is sealed.”

David could not pull his gaze away from the two black pits staring back at him. Though they appeared empty, there was a hunger waiting behind them. His instincts were telling David to run as far as he could, back to his home that had always been safe. Once home crossed his mind, however, the gravity of the situation returned. He looked around at all of the objects in the room. There were many that felt like they did not belong. They seemed too new, like the beautiful gown covered with rhinestones sparkling off the glow of the fire. It was begging to be worn to some extravagant event, to be shown off to the world. Other objects felt antiquated, like they were meant to end up here. The slouching puppet, with its paint chipping off and rusting metal joints, seemed peaceful in its place on the shelf. 

“If I do this, will I keep my memories of my old life?” David asked.

“Of course.” The man said. “Your body and mind are secure.”

A rush of memories filled David’s mind. His mother’s caring presence. His father’s strong wisdom. Ben's wild nature. All of his life in the kingdom was beginning to flash before his eyes, but before he became lost in them, he cut them off.

“I’ll do it.”

The man grinned from ear to ear. His fingers tapped the arms of the chair rapidly. 

“Very well. Now I need something from you.” 

David swallowed. “What do you need?”

“It could be anything. The closer you are attached to it, the better.” His head was turned towards the door, where David had hung his cloak. Though the thought never crossed his mind, David realized now how much of his identity was present in that cloak. The Aldan sigil on his brooch, the fine imported silk worn by so many of his kin. He had had many cloaks in the past, but realizing that this was the last one hurt to think about.

“You may have it.” David said.

“Excellent choice.” The man got up and walked over to the rack. He pulled the cloak off the wall and turned to face the rest of the house. Like an artist examining their canvas, the man was in careful consideration as to figuring out the placement of his new trinket. He turned back to face the young man, almost forgetting he was in the room.

“You can leave now.”

***

He had not expected to feel the sun on his face as he exited the house. The ground was only slightly damp from the storm that had passed before. How long had he been in there, he wondered? His brief meditation was interrupted by the sound of horses approaching. 

Three armored men from the House of Aldan approached the young man. The one leading the troupe was the captain of the guard. His gut twisted with fear. He must’ve been in the house for too long. They had finally caught him.

“Do you live here, young man?” The captain said, confused as to why anyone would live in such a run down place. “You alright, lad?”

The young man realized he was staring at the captain. “Um, yes. I was just taking shelter from the storm.”

“Sleep in, did ya? That storm passed by a day ago.” The captain patted his agitated horse. Oddly enough, he seemed confused, unsure of why he was at this cabin in the first place. His men seemed equally lost.

“I guess so.” The young man expected to feel relief that he wasn’t recognized, but instead a deep sadness came over him. He wanted more than anything to shout ‘it’s me, David!’, but there would be no point in lying to the captain. The only thing to do was continue playing the new part. “Is there something I can help you with?”

The captain took a minute as if trying to remember the answer. “No. We were just passing by. Please carry on.”

The three men soon rode back down the hill, towards the distant castle beyond the fields. He looked at the tall towers with the same familiarity before the storm had passed, when he was on the run. It still felt like home, but those feelings were only remnants of a life already gone. Though the ghost of David Aldan lived within him, this was now the beginning of a new life, untethered by name or role. This liberation was as relieving as it was terrifying.

The young man took a step down the hill and stopped. He turned the other way and walked out towards the unknown.