“Daydream”

Author’s Note: This is a Take Ten to Write story and has not been proofread for errors. If I feel inspired or if there’s interest in the story, I’ll post a revised, edited, and extended version at a later date. Happy reading!

Vocksin hated war. He much preferred the simple life – farming, trail riding, linnoch herding – anything that didn’t involve conflict. Unfortunately, as one of the princes of the Northeastern Province, his own lifestyle was quite the opposite. The frivolous balls and social meetings that he was forced to attend to see how peace was maintained between the Provinces never failed to bore him, yet he had to admit that the music was always a welcome distraction during those evenings.

When the war began, Vocksin was sitting in class, attempting to endure the painful politics course that his tutor, Quar, had assigned him. He wasn’t really listening to Quar ramble on about the various monarchies of the Provinces and their customs. Instead, he was dreaming about riding his prized steed, Embar, over the Dridden Mountains to visit the Forthen Falls; he had heard stories about the fantastical waterfall from various traders who had passed by  Sunstone Citadel during their travels and had wanted to go himself ever since. Unfortunately, his duties as heir prince prevented him from taking the journey himself.

Just as Vocksin was rounding the last corner to arrive at the Falls, one of the pages broke into the study.

“Prince Vocksin, his Majesty has sent for you,” he said, trying – but failing – to hide his flustered state with an air of confidence.

Vocksin perked up immediately; anything would be better than having to listen to another minute of Quar droning on about the threat that the Northern Province posed. He quickly slipped from his seat and waved his dismissal to Quar before following the page to his father’s throne room.

The hallways were surprisingly empty for the middle of the day, but Vocksin dismissed the thought; the servants were probably just busy preparing for the service of the midday meal. The bright orange doors at the entrance to the throne room, which was usually guarded by two soldiers, were wide open. Vocksin frowned; now that was suspicious.

Final Comments: Sorry there wasn’t a story these past few days… I’ve been super busy! Anyway, here’s another Vocksin section! I think that I’m still trying to figure out his personality; I keep alternating between him being a stuck up brat and a shy bookworm… I guess technically he could be both?

Overall Rating: 😅