Evil flower
Blooms dainty
With vivid coloration.
As for pitiful weeds around,
Are destined to decay.
A Kingdom of Gold,
And there in apex reign,
What precious royalty,
A prince of age 14.
From the soldiers, to shrews
From men to mice,
The servants and their flock,
The crops and the lands of little decay,
All things and everything was his.
Blooms dainty
With vivid coloration.
As for pitiful weeds around,
Are destined to decay.
A Kingdom of Gold,
And there in apex reign,
What precious royalty,
A prince of age 14.
From the soldiers, to shrews
From men to mice,
The servants and their flock,
The crops and the lands of little decay,
All things and everything was his.
Day burned down to night.
Through a hidden way, the prince made his selfish flight.
Through a hidden way, the prince made his selfish flight.
Down the rabbit hole once more, the young boy ventured to a garden by the border. He had past christened it ‘Eden’ for the secluded sanctuary was home to such beauties the rest of human kind had yet to see. It was a place found by no souls expect for his. And it became his sanctuary, a bitter prince’s escape from the world around. There, he learned the ways of the flowers in June and in the winter heard stories from the North Wind who had traveled to the ends of the earth and past the border no one in the Kingdom dared to cross. He often imagined the crimson roses blushing when he appeared to them in their full bloom and then bowing to him in shame and respect when their season of death was upon them.
Such a bitter youth with none but shallow beauty in mind.
Though with grace in step, the prince approached a particular rose bunch, one whose roses were always in bloom and never in shame did they bow their heads to him. They were immortal to a sense that drove the prince mad with envy. Because of that, he became a murderer and plucked a ripe rose from the thorn bush, severing it from its life supply. But with its dying will, the rose took its vengeance and sent a bitter green thorn through the side of the prince’s finger. Though the pain quite sudden and sharp, he payed it no mind as a drop of blood made a rosy trail down his hand. And when the prince brought the immortal rose to sample its scent, disappointment was his only reward.
But in his bitter disappointment, appeared a voice. It was that of a stranger’s but rather than frighten the boy, it brought to him an unforgivably warm bliss. The voice spoke praise certainly not uncommon to the young prince’s slothful ears. “You’re quite beautiful...” He looked around and saw nothing. Neither a man nor a beast save for the common shrew mouse that was quite incapable of speaking a human word. Then who? Whose was the voice from the shadows? What shrouded being spoke the unhesitant lexis?
"Who's there?" called the prince in surprise. Who had found the heart to trespass on his sanctuary? The answer which came was one vague and undesirable. “You should be weary to address me so lightly, Oh Voice,” said he, upright and tall, infuriated by the bodiless voice that had disturbed his solitary night. A sudden laugh sparked a terrible hate within him.
“You look like nothing more than an ordinary human in my eyes,” said the voice.
“’Ordinary’?” the royal quoted in disgust. “The power I hold over this kingdom is far from ordinary, monsieur. All things and everything belong to my legacy.” And as he finished, he could feel the voice’s amused grin. He could almost even see its white glimmer from within the night’s shadows.
“How cute. You think so highly of yourself for a mere human, don’t you?”
The prince was infuriated. Never in his life, had he heard such words directed solely towards him. “Those who speak of only what they know find it true that prudent silent is wise!” the prince scoffed. "You know not who I am. Only a fool says such things to the prince of this kingdom! But no, you are not that of a fool… You are nothing but a voice and in my eyes void of existence.” With that, the prince turned to return from whence he came, leaving the voice as it was in his memory, deeming it a peculiar dream and nothing more. But the voice which he wished to forsake came again, leaving the prince paralyzed in his steps.
“I am very real,” it said.
Those very few words drew the prince to the shadows where the voice seemed to be coming from. With arms crossed and countenance defiant, the prince starred into the dark. “Then, prove your existence, Oh Voice,” he ordered and before he knew it, a pale hand came emerging towards him. It moved slowly but eager and soon he found that a body and an arm were attached. He saw a blur of cherry hair, two pointed horns, a large muscular body, and dark fading wings. And all at once, they came tumbling towards him as he lost his ground. His entire being had been thrown and pinned to the ground by the voice from the shadows. The prince groaned in response to the sudden impact as he tried his might at removing the large being from on top of him but only to no prevail. "Get off of me!" yelped the boy. "Pervert!"
With that, the demon quickly removed himself from the prince's frail body. " 'Pervert'?!" he quoted in shock. "So I'm a pervert?"
"Hmph!" the prince turned his regal nose and gained his footing. "Peasants should learn to keep their place. Lest they learn the consequences of defying me."
And so, the prince turned to leave Eden, dropping the rose which he had picked earlier next to the stranger's feet. After sneaking back into his room in the palace of gold, the prince climbed into bed as if he had been there the entire night.
There he lay, awake and engulfed by satin delicate, letting the stranger's comforting voice fill his mind once more. And finally before drifting off to sleep, he envisioned the stranger standing there in the dark garden with the immortal rose in hand. That was the first of many nights the prince would spend thinking of nothing but the Demon in the Garden.
//E N D p a r t I.
