The Amnesiac Prince [Skyward Link and pinnedwing]

Warren

Scholar of Tales
Original poster
Invitation Status
  1. Looking for partners
Online Availability
Eh, it all depends.
Writing Levels
  1. Give-No-Fucks
Preferred Character Gender
  1. Male
  2. Female
Genres
High Fantasy, Fandoms, Sci-Fi
The year was 335x and the Kingdom of Galilee, a small but regal kingdom was at peace underneath King William and his family, unlike other rulers who sat in their castles and ruled as untouchable figures, King William mingled with the people of his kingdom, getting to know how his people lived and what he could do make the kingdom more prosperous. It was at that time, Sky, his only son, and heir was born much to the kingdom's joy that cause a three-day celebration.

Galilee prided themselves not on their military and magical might, but on the products like rice, salt, silk, and glasswork that they sell and make, however, things weren't meant to be when Caym, a ruthless mage, seeking to take the power from the kingdom's core, the source of all magic within the kingdom to himself, invaded killing William and his wife when he had taken them by surprise.

Luarn, a maid at the time and Sky's minder, had seen what was going on and in a panic, used the servant's halls to smuggle a protesting Sky out of the castle, trying to get the young heir to quiet so they wouldn't be seen, but it was all for naught when one Caym's men, spotted them and started to chase after them.

However, it was not meant to be, and in desperation and urging him to stay alive despite both injuries they received in the chase, Luarn hid Sky within a hallow tree, before running away and being killed, later on, Sky was discovered by a baker in his wife who had been out of the kingdom visiting family and had not heard what had happened to the royal family.

From there, the two of them treated Sky's injuries the best they could, never knowing if the young child was going to make it through the night, but Sky did, and eventually healed, with no memories of who he was, without knowing who he was, the couple didn't feel right taking the boy to the orphanage and raised him as their own.

Years later, after teaching Sky the in's and out's of running the bakery and despite being underneath the rule of a cruel king, they decided to retire handing the business over to Sky to run, little did they know that things were about to change and that people had been looking for the missing prince since that night, many wishing that they could return to the old ways, many wishing to end the boy's life….and a kingdom in danger due to an overflow of stored magic.
 
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The bakery was a pleasant place; because even under the reigns of tyrants, some good may persist.

But the yoke of the king remained, and even in their retirement, the kindly bakers could not help but wonder if peaceful days would return.
For the boy they had adopted and loved as their own son was clearly an adult, now - and skilled enough at the trade that word began to gather -
Slowly at first, and with increasing tempo, as rumours so often do.

"... I've heard that the owner's son is truly mysterious, and that nobody knows who he truly is..."

"... Looks just like the royal family, and there are always stories that at least one of the family survived, just stories, but..."

"... Perhaps somebody should look into it, I hear there's a reward for information about any possible heirs..."

None of these things mattered when there was fresh bread to be baked, and the peace of a warm bakery rich with the scents of dusted flour, dark rye, and sourdough. Patrons didn't visit as often as they had, for everyone was struggling, but there were still enough visitors to make ends meet... And it seemed that Sky might have peaceful days ahead of him, for so long as he wished them.

The bells above the door jangled, on a cold summer night, two hours before closing.

"What a charming provincial bakery!.. Search the back.
Sorry, sorry - continue... Clearing the counters, as you were."

On that night, steel-armoured soldiers of the tyrant-king, Caym, shuttled into the storefront; clumsily going through shelves and storage bags, for there were no common folk to pester. Leading them was a somewhat jovial-seeming man, just hitting his middle years, with a thin ginger moustache and eyes that echoed none of his smile. Three medals and a streaming pennant proclaimed him a noble of some small military standing, and the idle though struck Sky that it was the Viscount Teskin, a former loyalist of the old King William... Though he was not sure how he knew.

"... You look almost familiar, boy. Don't stare at your betters.
Say, you wouldn't have happened to seen any suspicious characters?
Oh, but there'll be generous payments for you if you have - King Caym is ever-merciful."

But the words were spoken without interest, for time had changed Sky - and Teskin's narrow eyes saw nothing of note, for now.

It was then that the soldiers proclaimed they had seen contraband goods secreted within the bags of flour, and Teskin gave a disappointed 'tsch' and turned his back, half-cape fluttering.

"Took you long enough.
Burnt the place to the ground, so that any loyalists who patronised the place get the message. As to the boy...
Ensure he stays here, and burns with it. Something about him is unpleasant to your Viscount."

Even as flour caught fire, however, so too were the guardsmen caught off guard - for acting on a sixth sense that came naturally to him, Sky...
 
On that fateful night, Sky let out a soft hum as he pulled the baker's jacket around him tighter trying to shield himself from the cold despite it being so warm inside the shop. It had been odd, given how chilly it was that evening despite it being in deep summer. That should have been his first clue that something awful was about to happen, but disregarded it in favor of thoughts of perhaps calling it an early night to clean up the shop for the evening since tomorrow was the one day a week, the bakery was closed.

He had heard the rumors of course, heard them many times while making his way to the shop before the sun decided to even rise to get started with what seemed like endless baking and sometimes customers and even while he grew up, but he never let them bother him, after all, they were just silly rumors.

He then would blink, hearing the bell above the door ring to announce a customer and he had turned to greet whoever it was since at the time his back was towards the door when the words died in his mouth once he had realized who had just entered the shop to biting his tongue when the men started to more or less started to turn the place upside down, and silently mourning his only day off.

Teskin...Sky's mind supplied, after getting a good look at the man now, small snippets of a life once lived playing through his mind, of learning swordsmanship, or just bugging the living daylights out of him like any child would do to a favorite uncle, which caused Sky to frown considering that he was sure he had never met the man before tonight, only to be snapped out of it when the man sneered at him about staring, missing his previous words about seeing anyone suspicious or the like.

Mentally shaking his head, an apology on his lips as he moved to continue what he was doing...that was until his blood ran cold at the knight's words, knowing the lies they were telling since Sky had always been an honest boy...

"But I..." Those were the only two words Sky spoke through the whole ordeal, the fire, and horror now reflected in the large glasses he wore over his dark blue eyes, the same color that gave him his name and the same color as his father with his dark hair coming from his mother, something long once dormant stirred inside as his stance changed, and would use the tray he had been holding like a sheild to hit the knight in the face that had lunged at him to presumably tie him up so he could perish in the fire, followed by bashing him over the head with it.

In a brief moment of disbelief, Sky took advantage of it by now vaulting over the counter since he had been on the side that faced the door the entire time, he made for the back of the shop, but something told him to look behind him, and at that moment, Sky looked like William's ghost, just as one of the support beams gave way, cutting him off from Teskin and the others. Unknown to the knights or anyone that decided to surround the place, the bakery had a trap door, left over from way before William's rule that led outside as Sky quickly threw himself down it.

Coughing harshly from the inhaled smoke, he followed the short tunnel, which came out on a side alley, not even half a block away, Sky popped out of it unnoticed, catching the light of his now burning shop....mourning it, he knew he should keep going, lest he was found again by the roaming knights. Part of him had wanted to head back to his home, or even his parent's home, but it was quickly ruled out, what if this wasn't just because they all of a sudden decided they had no one to pick on and were just waiting on him to show up at either place?

Coughing again, he rubbed at his chest slightly, the smoke getting to him now, he decided on the best course was probably to find someplace safe for the night. Peeking out, he made sure he didn't see anyone and let his feet guide him.
 
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It was amazing how quickly the sounds of shouting and clattering metal and vicious chatter -

All of them could disappear, lost to the moment.
Even as Sky made his escape in rumination, the night was a gentle friend that guarded well those who sought to evade attention...
Mostly.

"Oi. Oiiiii. Standing in my light, aint'cha?"

Looming out of the shadows was a lankier shape, one that would've seemed carved from odd angles. The shape - or person - had been lighting fires in the dark; not to stay warm, but just because she could.

"... Uh, wait. Sky?
The - the baker?
Wutcha doing out this late?"

The voice belonged to Keldra, a regular customer. She liked to append that she was 'a year older, probably' and could 'own her own bakery,' and even if neither was true, she payed like anyone else did...

Although how she had the money seemed a bit suspect, as she'd clearly been huddling in the shadows on the street.
Rubbing at the customary dark circles under beady orange eyes, she cut her teeth in a jagged frown, played over a million sentences that went nowhere, sighed, and held out your hand.

"They're going after everyone these days. I don't know that you did, but - do you need a place to lie low, fer a bit?
Are you - in trouble with them, too..?"
 
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To his dying breath, Sky would forever deny that he screamed in fright when Keldra appeared out of nowhere, his hand on his chest, both to try and calm his racing heart and trying to ease the burning feeling in them, in the low light of the fires she had been lighting and the seemly one working magical street lamp, to her, he looked a right mess.

Soot and ash covered his face and clothing, along with looking a little too singed for a simple kitchen accident. His glasses were also askew and lightly cracked from the intense heat of the shop fire. Once he was safe and his mind was not in such a daze of 'Why did this happen? and...did I just survive an attempted murder?' he would come to realize, that fire was too strong to be just a normal fire, but for now, he looked at her, almost trying to place who she was until she spoke.

"Keldra..." His voice, horse from the smoke, placing her now as a regular who loved his sourdough and whatever other treats that had lined the shelves that day, but had never questioned how she got her money or the like, even offering to let her stay, even long past closing when the weather had turned cold or rainy.

"They....they burned down the shop....and tried to kill me too." It didn't take a genius who they were, but this was the first time that the Knights tried to downright murder someone, bully, and sent people to jail on made-up charges yes, but this was the first time of attempted murder.

"And...I don't know...they came in and tore the shop up looking for 'contraband.' before the viscount ordered them to burn it down..." He said, taking her hand, poor boy was in shock, allowing himself to be led to wherever now.

"Keldra....I...I remember the viscount from before tonight..." It wasn't a secret that he had no memories from before his parents had adopted him, at least to the regulars that had gotten to know him.

"A-And I hit a guy in the head with a tray! I don't know how to fight!" He said, nearing hysterics.
 
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All about them, the night sounds of the city drew their court.

Once, under the reign of the good monarchs, these sounds had been simple, but pervasive; the quiet laughter of couples after work, of older residents returning home - of those whose nightwork kept them wandering between the stone-shod alleys, lanterns at hand and perhaps a song at heart. The whisper of fireflies, and all good things.

Now, the cold thrum of the nearby iron foundry was the only song one could hear, but at least it had the very thankful effect of keeping a scream and a whispered conversation hidden between two figures, furtively navigating in dark streets.

Keldra kept looking at him.
Sky seemed like a ghost; and how could he not? Until recently, he'd had it - as good as anyone could have it in the city, maybe even been making a difference in a kind of way. She listened intently, the natural hue of her frown set in a grim determination as she led him through streets. Sky was no stranger to the almost maze-like cramped quarters of the city, of course; the new alleys that had risen one over the other, until you could scarcely see the starlight above.

But they were headed deep, only the equally-mournful looks of passers-by foretelling where they were headed.
She paused, hand still against his, at a single comment.

They stood at the conflux of a giant mid-city river. It wasn't an aqueduct; it was a vast slurry, carrying all the wreckage tailings of the iron foundry deep out into the waters beyond the kingdom. The scent of burnt copper hung in the air, and perhaps matched her hair, as she whispered, expression unreadable -

"You hit a guy, huh?.. Sorry, about that.
But - but he deserved it.
... I'm really sorry all that happened to you.
Mmn, well, this is -"

And she went silent once more, and the maze of crumbling stairs went down, and all light but artificial torches, subsisting on the meagre remnants of old magic - vanished.

Old city ruins were in every direction, inhabited by those too desperate or too poor to afford a proper home.
The Buried District had once been under construction, a lifetime ago; but neither of the two had lived in a world where it had ever been anything but a place for the dregs of society to escape... And to perish, alone.

When she finally cut her way to a 'residence' carved from ruined marble, it wasn't entirely welcoming.
But it was roomy, like a chamber dredged from the stone itself; one of the magical torches ripped from another wall and used to light it up, a stone slab for a table, and various rags and furs that could be used to rest.

She knelt down, on her knees, brushed dust off a patched quilt of a dress, and coughed.

"Uh, this is - this is home. If you wanna - stay for as long as you need, you can. I don't think they'll follow you down here.
But you - you said you remembered that old geezer? And they were - looking for you...?"

His host clearly wanted to ask more - knowing little, only that she wanted to help.
And Keldra sighed, and smiled a bit crookedly.

"None of that matters, right now.
You just had a really bad night, huh?..
Rest up, first. I'll go - find some food, so don't worry about that.
When you wake up - if you wanna talk about it, I wanna listen."

She paused at the doorway as she got up again, staring over her shoulder.
Her face, once more, unreadable.

"I'm really sorry, Sky - about everything. I'm not good at calming people down or - or much, really.
But you're okay, down here. It's gonna be okay."
 
Sky had gone quiet after he more or less confessed to her that he had indeed hit a man over the head with one of the baking trays and that he had remembered the viscount, it wasn't surprising, considering that his world had just gone through a major upheave, his world-shattering to millions of pieces just because a stuck up noble pretending to be a knight didn't like his face or something of that sorts....a part of him filing that away the next time that he saw the Viscount, a burning question of why, why did you do this? Why burn down the shop and try to kill me when I did nothing to you.

But for now, though, he let Keldra lead him through the maze-like streets toward her home as his mind tried to wrap itself around the thoughts that swirled in his head and had barely realized that they had soon arrived until she had welcomed him and told him that he could stay as long as he needed too and would offer her a faint smile and a kind thank you. She was curious, and he couldn't fault her for that, after all, one doesn't come across someone who was in major shock very often, before she mentioned that he should try to rest while she went to look for food and that things would be okay...someday.

That night, he dreamed of a veiled woman, who looked like she had seen better days, who had cupped his face and wept. Telling him that she had been watching over him this whole time and was so proud of him and that it was time to seize his true destiny.

When he awoke, he rubbed his face a little, dark bags underneath his eyes since despite the odd dream, his rest wasn't all that restful and would turn to Keldra now, there was a light to his eyes that hadn't been there before, something had changed, for better or worst, it was yet to be determined.

"Keldra..." He said, sitting up now since he had been laying down still, turning to face her. "I think...it's time now to overthrow the government."
 
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Dreams were a strange thing; they could be good, or bad.
Fair - or foul.

Prophetic, or dangerous.

Within the maze of the undercity, a simple story played out; she'd found 'food,' which in this case was some mushrooms that didn't look too gross, some bread that could not be compared to anything he'd made. But it was food, and they'd live another day.

If a bat or insect had followed along, the slightly soft crooked nature of her smile would've seemed peaceful - kind.
Like a young woman not weighed down by the potential danger of housing a fugitive; perhaps one simply glad to have a 'friend' -
Even if that friend was someone she'd only just known in passing, not long before.

Sky hadn't rested well; he was already up when she returned. Keldra could see it in his eyes - the bleary look of someone who'd been dreaming.
But - there was something else there, too.

Determination.

Already, she'd set the meagre repast out when he said a sentence that changed the course of history.

Time paused.
Between them, the only sounds were the creaking of underquarters, of dying machinery, of the flickering lights that had once shone in vivid colours. Perhaps it would've been easy for anyone else to turn down those words, to hurl Sky out, or simply to say that he didn't know what he was talking about.

Keldra crossed her arms, and bit her lip, and shut her eyes.
And she nodded.

"... I don't know why, but I thought you'd say that.
You look different. I just - watch people, a lot. You've changed, Sky."

She'd gone to the bakery because it was warm and safe; it was why so many people on the edges sought out places like that.
It had been a comforting certainty - and now it was gone.
Perhaps there was no hope of them succeeding, and yet... And yet...

"When you said that you - looked kinda cool. Not that - never mind.
I had some - relatives who supported the royal family. You - you know how it goes."

She looked away.
When she returned her eyes to his, they did not hesitate.

"... But they had some things. I took what I want from them.
Maybe, don't laugh, don't you dare laugh...
I feel like this was meant for you."

And from beyond a corner in that cramped and forgotten room, she pressed the weight of her right shoulder against the wall until it wheezed, and as it wheezed it slid back, and as it slid back there was a small alcove, and in that alcove there was
a sword.

It wasn't particularly fancy, it had no great adornments. It was short, not a longblade.
But it was light, almost weightless, and moved well when swung; and she arced it cautiously through the air - before handing it to him.

"So - so, how do we start, Sky? I thought about - suggesting you were the - nevermind, it was stupid idea."
 
If it was anyone but Sky who said that they wanted to overthrow the government, they would probably be laughed at for such a daring thing before being sentenced to the gallows, but for some reason, when Sky said it, there was conviction in his voice, a belief that maybe they can do this…that they could change the kingdom and for the better.

A blush then crept on his face when she mentioned that he had changed and looked kind of cool, he rubbed the back of his neck in a little bit of shyness, but she had been right, he had changed. Before he had been the timid baker with an air of innocence in a way that was strange given the state of the kingdom, it was part of his charm it seemed, that also kept bringing people back to the bakery when they could, besides the bread of course.

However, it wasn't until after she had presented him with the sword after saying that she had felt like it had been meant for him, and with it now in hand and despite the state of his clothing and such…he looked…almost regal…like a knight or prince swearing to get revenge for all that wrong him and others.

He would then blinked when she had soon asked him what they needed to do to start before she mentioned suggesting something before seemly changing her mind, he then frowned some. That…was the question, where does one start when they decided to more or less overthrow someone?

"I think at first, is to see if my parents are alright, they must be worried about me if they had heard about the fire…I think after that is to gather people who want to join. I mean, after all, with just the two of us, we would be dead before we even step foot near the castle gates." He said, mind whirling with thoughts now.

"Then after then, I guess finding a base of operations, supplies, and whatnot. We'll have to keep this all hidden of course." He then fiddled with the hilt of the sword for something to do with his hands as he looked at the blade. "Maybe also think of a symbol we could all rally under?"