The Wind Prince

The streak of murky dark blended with the golden strip that rose over the far horizon. The sun shone like a golden tunnel on their kingdom, dawning a new day like never before. As the sunlight brightened the valley, Zephyr closed his eyes, soaking in the warm and delicate morning.

Opening his eyes, he noticed a massive flock of starlings crossed the sky and Zephyr wished for a moment that he could follow them, that he could fly away with them and leave the castle life behind. But he couldn’t. The responsibilities of a prince.

A knock sounded, and Zephyr turned around. The living space connected two bedrooms on either side of the room, but one of them was always empty. The Crowned Prince’s suite was across the hall. It was larger, more private, while Zephyr was left in a dusty alley of the castle reserved for the lesser royal sibling.

“Yes,” Zephyr said, as he opened the door.

A maid stood in the doorway with her head down and a meek expression across her face. “My Prince.” 

“Just Zephyr, when it’s just us, please. All the formality is nonsense to me.”

She curtsied, but didn’t look up from her toes. “Your—You have been requested in the King’s chambers.”

Zephyr nodded, and the maid turned and scurried away. Shaking his head, Zephyr stepped back into his chambers and closed the door behind him. With a single glance to the southern bedchamber door, he turned left, toward the opposite bedroom. His older brother, Eurus, called his suite plain, but Zephyr liked it just the way it was.

Books lined the windowsill, and his inventing table was set up with beakers and vials, herbs and liquids Zephyr had gathered from around the Woodlands. Metal sprockets, gears of all sizes, and springy springs laid sprawled across the table. His latest invention—a semi-working, flying aircraft made of metal, cloth, and wood—sat broken on the ground at the foot of his bed. After a long night of stitching the last pieces together, it had only flown about ten feet before falling to the ground.

Rolling his eyes at his invention, his brother's words rolled through his head. “Inventing is for the intellectuals, not for second-class princes.”

He didn’t care for his brother’s ostentatious lifestyle or the way he used his magic to manipulate the surrounding air. During battle with the Gaoth Royals, Eurus’s tactics were in high demand, but now, during peacetime, he wondered when the ticking time bomb that his older brother was.

Grabbing an azure cloak from his closet, Zephyr turned from his room. He held up a hand and held onto the side of the doorframe, stopping. He looked to his left, at his inventor’s table, to the beaker he had been playing with the weekend before. It was a new antidote—a hobby he couldn’t give up since the war ended. While Euros had spent his time in battle against the Gaoth royals, Zephyr had spent his time with the physicians researching venoms and poisons—a Gaoth royal’s favorite stealth attack vessel—and how to combat them with antidotes.

Since then, Zephyr rarely left the castle without a vial of his perfected antidote, a purplish liquid mixture of things from all around the island, including magnesium and other alkalized derivatives.

Sighing, Zephyr grabbed the vial and a book of old tales and shoved them in the deep pockets of his robes. If the celebration later that day grew tiresome, he could always read to pass the time.

Zephyr took a right after closing the door to his suite. Down the hall, a spiral staircase would take him to the third floor, where his parents' royal chambers were. Holding the old oak banister, he circled the stairs until he reached the topmost platform.

“There you are!” his mother called across the room. “Zephyr, Zephyr, please come in.” She walked off the dressing dais she had been standing on and made her way toward him. Always clean and clutter-free, his parent’s new royal chambers had long, thick curtains over the clerestory windows, fancy, blue globe lamps powered by Lightning bugs, and a timeless, gold mirror that covered the entire eastern wall. His mother’s face scrunched as she looked him over. “Is that what you’re wearing?”

His father, the King, turned and looked him up and down. Two silent maids attended to his celebratory attire. “Come, son. You know today is a big day for the family. Our first celebration as the royal family, our first since completely defeating the Gaoth family.”

Zephyr eyed the mirror. Blond strands framed his pale face, and his blue eyes stared back at him. His hair was choppily cut and messy, but presentable enough. His tunic was fair, the whitest one he had in his closet, and his pants were made of black silk. The blue cloak he had thrown over it connected it all together and dignified him as a member of the royal family.

“It isn’t that bad…” he said.

“It isn’t that good either,” his brother added, snatching a flute of champagne from the butler.

Zephyr turned to see Euros lounging on his parents’ four poster bed. Thick, gold and cerulean curtains hung over the wooden frame and across the floor. “What do you know?” 

As his eyes glossed over his brother, he noticed the white and blue button down matched the white pair of slim-cut dress pants. Blond ringlets fell around his brother’s face, and his stark, chiseled jaw and high cheekbones jutted out at him. By all accounts, his brother was sinister—from the way he dressed and presented himself to the smoothness in his voice and the brash expression he always exhibited.

Now, as a royal, he thought everyone was below them—completely forgetting what little they came from.

“Not only will it be an amazing summer celebration, but…” The King started behind Zephyr. “We also have an announcement to make about the future of our kingdom.”

Euros grimaced at his father’s enthusiasm and rolled his eyes, focusing more on something in his hands than anything in the room itself.

“Well, I wasn’t exactly expecting to go,” Zephyr said.

His mother looked at him with shocked surprise. “What made you think that?”

Zephyr nodded to Euros. “He said he didn’t want me there.”

“Well,” the King said, stepping down from his dressing dais and adjusting his necktie. “While Euros thinks he runs the kingdom, he does not. This celebration is as much for you as anyone else.”

Glancing back to Euros, Zephyr noticed him shove his hands into his pockets with a huff.

“Then, of course, I’ll attend.”

The King clapped his hands on Zephyr’s shoulders. “Of course, you will.”

Beaming, his mother wrapped her hand around Zephyr’s arm, and they walked out of the room, down the spiral stairwell and out toward the castle’s gardens.

In the spring and early summer, beautiful roses and hydrangeas sprang to life, cultivated with the help of Naturalists from all around the Woodlands. Magic was a gift in their eyes—not a tool to use against each other, like the Gaoth royals had done. Using one’s magic to wreak havoc over one’s enemies was against the new Wind Kingdom’s guiding principles.

They hoped to rule in peace.

As they were seated at the forefront of the ceremony, atop a wooden platform from which they could see all the games, activities, and performances on display, Zephyr glanced over to his brother. When he ruled, would he be willing to reign in peace or would all they worked for, all they sacrificed, be in vain to his brother’s greed?

A trumpet sounded and flags from all over Agate Isle walked across the field. The first of the day’s entertainment made their way out onto the field—soldiers with a ball and goals on either end of the field to score points. As the flags walked off the field, another low bellow sounded through the air… and the games began.

Boisterous music played in the background as the grandstands oohed and ahhed as the two teams ran up and down the field and Zephyr’s wind wandered to the far horizon. He pulled the book out of his pocket and opened it in front of him. His morning hypothesis had been right. The celebration would be boring.

Hours later, as the sun dipped toward the horizon, it sent a spray of color across the sky, gifting the aerial dancers a beautiful backdrop of red and yellow. Windweavers, those able to manipulate the air around them, shifted the winds as the dancers spun like delicate ballerinas, long aerial silks that glistened in the soft light. A string ensemble played lightly in the background.

“Mother.” Euros walked behind their father and bent down toward their mother. “Are the Taylors joining us today?”

Zephyr glanced over, and Euros flicked his eyes up to meet his gaze. The hand Euros had draped around the backside of their mother’s seat flicked up, sending a shockwave of wind out. Zephyr turned to follow the small gust of air toward a woman server walking back inside.

She turned and glared in their direction, but held her tongue.

“They will not,” their mother went on. “Mr. Taylor is on a trip to the far east, the Sun Kingdom, in search of new silks for my summer lineup.” 

Zephyr turned back to their conversation—and Euros’s venomous smile.

“There will be a lot of balls this year to celebrate our triumph over the Gaoth royals.”

“Yes, mother,” Euros said, standing. He tugged on the fronts of his shirt and cracked his neck from side to side. “Just a question. You know how well I get on with them.”

“They are lovely, aren’t they?” their mother asked, returning her attention to the dancers, who were just finishing their arrangement. Beaming wide, she stood and clapped as the dancers bowed for the crowd.

Zephyr locked eyes with his brother. A server walked behind them, a bottle of deep red wind in her hands.

“Very,” Euros said. Grinning, he flicked his finger, sending another wave of wind toward her. 

Taking a moment to compose herself, the server sucked in a sharp breath and exhaled.

Euros offered Zephyr a smug expression before turning on his heels and walking back to his chair on the other side of their father.

“I’m sorry about him,” Zephyr whispered quickly.

“He’s such a jerk,” the server said. Her sleek blonde hair smelled like sweet honeysuckle and made Zephyr smile. “I don’t know why…” She stopped mid-sentence. Her eyes darted to Zephyr’s.

“Don’t stop. It’s the truth.”

The server smiled and refilled the Queen’s glass of wine. As she shifted to pour the wine into Zephyr’s glass, he covered it with his hand.

“Just water.”

She smiled. “Of course, my Prince.”

Zephyr rolled his eyes inwardly. Had they not been in such a public setting, he would have reminded her he didn’t require such titles, but he just smiled at her and watched as she moved to refill the King’s glass. Though she did noticeably turn back with a grin before refilling Euros’s glass.

Sitting, he looked to his father, whose hand hovered over his glass. Euros left his glass untouched, as Zephyr lifted his glass of ice water to his lips. Beside him, the Queen beamed to Zephyr as she lifted her own wine glass, her eyes glinting in the afternoon light.

The deep red wine touched her lips as another performance stepped out into the center stage. The Queen gulped down half the glass and set it down. Clapping, she grimaced and cleared her throat. Replacing her grimace with a flat smile, the Queen coughed.

Zephyr turned to his mother. Draping a hand around her shoulder, the King looked over.

“Mother,” Zephyr started.

The Queen tried to stand but dropped to the floor. The King stood, sending his chair flying back behind him.

“Mother!” Zephyr kneeled beside his mother.

“What’s going on?” Zephyr yelled over the noise and commotion.

Guards rushed in and circled them.

Something white foamed around the Queen’s mouth, and Zephyr's eyes went wide. Was that poison?

“It’s poison!” Euros screamed, and the crowd sucked in a collective breath around them. “Zeph, what did you do to her?”

“Me?” Zephyr recoiled at his brother’s accusation. 

“You were closest, don’t deny it.”

“I would never!” Zephyr cradled his mother’s hand in his lap. Her skin paled and her eyes had a hint of yellow in them. “Get the physician, quick,” he commanded over his shoulder. He looked up to his father, who stood stone still as he looked down at them.

“I thought all this was over…” he whispered.

“Father,” Euros said, pushing past the guard to his father’s side. “Is it not clear Zephyr did this? He had the means, the opportunity.”

“Because I sat next to our mother?” Zephyr asked with a scoff. “The King sat on her other side. Should we suggest he poisoned his Queen?” Something sharp dug into his leg from the weight of his mother’s head on his lap. Zephyr moved and dipped his hand into his pocket. “Father!” Zephyr exclaimed. “I have this.” He pulled out the vial of antidote he’d been working on. “IT’s antidote. My last batch from—”

“Father, no! It’s probably more poison.” Euros exclaimed. “You cannot be—”

The King held up a silencing hand and nodded to Zephyr.

Without wasting a second, Zephyr popped off the cap and opened his mother’s sputtering mouth. Forcing her lips apart, he poured the antidote down her throat and held his breath. Within seconds, his mother’s staggering breath evened out a little.

“Queen Ira.” The castle physician rushed through the crowd toward them. “What happened?” he looked up at Zephyr.

“Poison, I believe.” Zephyr held up his now-empty vial of antidote. “I used this, and she—”

The Queen sucked in a deep breath and exhaled. Her pale skin deepened in color and the whites in her eyes cleared. Her eyes finally opened, and she swallowed hard. Zephyr helped her sit up as the physician checked her over.

With his mother taken care of, Zephyr glared up at his brother. “How could you say it was me? Why would I ever hurt our mother?” He squinted in surprised curiosity. Why would Euros blame him? “Wait, you came over to our mother… to ask a question, or something. If you’re going to blame me for my proximity, don’t forget to blame yourself.”

Euros scoffed. “Why would I…?” His words trailed as his eyes locked with the King’s.

“You were quick to…” The King narrowed his gaze at Euros. “We know what’s in Zephyr’s pockets. Empty yours.” The King leered over Euros, who hesitated. Grabbing Euros’s robes, he picked through Euro’s pockets and pulled out a small, green vial that was only half-full. “What’s this?”

“It’s—It’s…” Euros stammered, his eyes darting between the King’s and Zephyr’s.

Helping the Queen stand, Zephyr grabbed it from his father’s hand and held it up to the sun. The green liquid had silver slivers floating inside. “It looks like poison, all right. Are those flakes of vene mushrooms?”

All eyes darted to Euros, who straightened his back and turned up his nose. “You aren’t serious…”

“You were the one with the poison,” Zephyr argued.

“Take him away,” the King commanded the guards. Three guards surrounded Euros. They grabbed each of his arms, and the third trailed them, dragging them through the crowd back toward the castle. “We’ll deal with him later.”

“The Queen should lie down,” the physician interjected. 

“Yes, yes,” the king said, blinking. He turned to the summer party around them, and the gardens fell to a deafening silence. The King cleared his throat and scanned the crowd. “I must apologize, but we have been forced to leave the party early.” He smiled, and the crowd smiled with him. “But I implore you to stay, continue, enjoy yourselves. This day marks a new dawning for our kingdom, an era of peace, of harmony, of compassion.” 

The King took a moment to breathe. He turned, holding out a hand for Zephyr, and tugged him forward.

“I know I promised you a big announcement today.” He took another breath and looked over at Zephyr. “That announcement is that Prince Zephyr will become the Crowned Prince of the Wind Kingdom, of the Woodlands, and will one day continue us all in a reign of peace.”

Stunned, Zephyr’s eyes went wide, and his body began to shake as the entire crowd erupted into applause.

All he could do was stand still, staring out into the vast expanse in front of him as the sun dipped further into the horizon. Bright colors shone through the ever-changing clouds. Tranquil and gorgeous, the evening closed on the first day of their new kingdom. Of his new kingdom.

As the sun set, the day’s journey came to a close, and Zephyr beamed eagerly back at the sunset.