Snippet #1974158

It was far too early in the morning for anyone to be awake, and only the biting cold of the early dawn kept the young man from drifting back into the world of dreams. For the hundredth time in that hour alone, the teenager yawned massively and ran a hand through his unruly brown hair. He and another man were standing in front of a black carriage, the silhouette of the castle behind them, barely visible through the thin coils of fog that drifted through the air. Both men were cloaked in capes, the older man’s in royal purple and the teen’s in a dark brown that was the exact same shade as his knee high riding boots.

“Now Hansel, you must remember your purpose in Ascavia.”
The older man advised, pulling at the folds of his cloak. His hair was gray in some spots, and beginning to thin out. Though he had yet to grow a beard, it was obvious that age was starting to creep up on him. The teenage boy, Hansel, had a mischievous and carefree smile hanging on his lips. As he listened to the man though, his smile slipped a bit.

“Wait, who are you again?” He asked, tilting his head slightly to the side.

The older man heaved a sigh, shooting Hansel an almost exasperated look, as though this was something he had to deal with constantly. “I’m your father Hansel. The King of Ashwood.”

When he heard that, Hansel laughed and shook his head. “Sorry about that Father. You know I’m really forgetful.”

His father smiled a bit too, but the expression didn’t seem without effort. Forgetful wasn’t even beginning to describe Hansel’s rather fragmented memory. Something was definitely broken in his son’s brain. The King just had no idea what it was.

“Like I was saying, Hansel,” His father tried to pull them back on topic. “Don’t forget what you’re supposed to be doing in Ascavia.”He eyed his son meaningfully. “I want either you or Gretel to secure the throne. So that means be on your absolute best behavior, alright?” As he said the last few words, his eyes drifted down towards Hansel’s belt, where a wicked looking knife sat sheathed.

“But Father-!” Hansel was about to protest, but he could tell from the stormy look on his father’s face that an argument would go nowhere. Even if he talked about how relishing it was to stick a knife into a person’s stomach and watch the blood flow out like a river, it wouldn’t do him any good. His father was dead set against violence. He backed off, letting his attention instead greet the empty grounds. Aside from the carriage, the black horses and the patiently waiting driver, they were alone. Someone was missing. Who? Oh yes, his sister.

“Father, where’s Gretel?”

The King had returned to absentmindedly smoothing out his cloak, but when he heard Hansel’s words, he looked back up. “Oh, Gretel is leaving in a separate carriage later. I thought it would be safer if you two went individually. You’ll meet up with her later at Ascavia.”

“Ah, I see.” Hansel grinned again before opening the door to the carriage and setting one foot inside. “Well, I think I’ll be off now Father. Take care, alright?”

Realizing that the time for departure had come, the driver got into his seat and took the reins of the horses. The King gave a slight wave as the carriage rattled down the paved road. He wondered if he would see Hansel again. Then again, was that really Hansel that was leaving him? Ten years ago, his son had been an extremely sweet boy who wouldn’t have hurt a fly. After returning from the woods though, Hansel had changed. He was still as sweet and carefree as ever, but he had developed an affinity for violence and blood and he could become explosive and dangerous without warning. He definitely suffered from some sort of mental breakdown. There was no other explanation for his forgetfulness and constant mood swings. The King didn’t know what happened in the forest so many years ago, and he had never dared to ask. But whatever it was, it had changed his two sweet children into cold-blooded murderers. He couldn’t relate to them anymore. It was this reason that prevented the King from shouting one last goodbye before the carriage turned the bend in the road and was completely out of earshot.



Ashwood was roughly three-quarters of a day’s distance away from Ascavia. A relatively short trip compared to many of the other Kingdoms. The minute that Hansel settled down into the velvet seats at the back of the carriage, he had succumbed to sleep. Last night he had gotten only two hours of sleep, spending the rest of the evening jostling around with friends in the castle’s supposedly haunted basements. When his eyes opened again, he could not remember exactly where he was or even who he was. That wasn’t an uncommon development though. Hansel had learned after years of the same experience to simply sit around and wait for his mind to sort out the puzzle pieces and come up with a coherent explanation for his situation. Sure enough, after sitting silently for a few moments and bouncing along to the rhythm of the carriage, Hansel managed to recollect enough of his memories to understand that his father, the King of Ashwood, had sent him along with Gretel to another Kingdom. Unfortunately, he couldn’t remember for the life of him why he was being sent there. All he could hazily recollect was his father’s statement earlier that morning. ‘Don’t forget your purpose’. Well, he had gone and done exactly that. Forget what he was supposed to be doing. Fortunately, Gretel would remind him soon enough. Wait, where was Gretel? Oh right, she was coming in a separate carriage as a safety precaution.

With his memories assorted back in place, Hansel grinned and crossed one leg over the other. The small window to his left was covered with a velvet drape, and he moved it back slightly. Outside, it was well into the afternoon and the sun was making its journey towards the west. A golden light pierced the window and he had to squint his eyes to make out his surroundings properly. The carriage was going at a fast speed, and he could just make out the blurry outlines of trees lining both sides of the road. He craned his neck, looking to see what was up ahead. It was just the same stretch of trees and road. It appeared as though they were nowhere near their destination.
Hansel leaned back into his seat and squirmed a little bit to get comfortable. His normally unruly brown hair was even more tousled as a result of sleeping, and that combined with his huge grin gave him the appearance of a madman. So when the driver stopped the carriage a few minutes later to see how his charge was doing, he did a double take.

“Oh, M-Master Hansel. Y-You’re awake.”

The driver, whose name was Peter, was a nervous and fidgety man who always steered clear of the children of the royal family. He had heard that both the son and daughter were mentally unstable, and it seemed as though this young man in the back of his carriage fit the description that was flying around the castle. Peter deeply resented the fact that his colleague Brent, who was originally supposed to be making this trip, somehow fell ill the night before. As a result, he had been left with what he felt was a risky and dangerous job. In the time that Hansel had been sleeping, Peter had nervously checked over his shoulder every twenty minutes in fear that the boy would wake up and do something horrid. Now that he was awake...

“Yes I am!”

Hansel replied cheerfully, stretching his long limbs and grinning. “Where are we right now?”

Peter had heard about Hansel’s horrible memory, so he was well prepared with his answer. “W-Well, Master. We’re h-headed towards the c-city of Ascavia. I t-think it’ll be a little l-longer until we arrive though.” He wondered if Hansel would throw a fit at the idea of having to wait any longer. To his surprise though, the teen simply nodded before leaning forward abruptly and asking excitedly,

“Hey, what’s this Ascavia like?”

Hansel had a burning curiosity to figure out what this Kingdom was like, as either he or Gretchen could certainly rule it one day. Peter started slightly at the question, unsure how to answer. He had resided in Ascavia for a few years when he was still a young man in his twenties, and didn’t know a lot about the city. However, he could tell that Hansel desperately wanted an answer, so he decided to give it a go with his limited knowledge.

“Well, Master...”



Two hours later, a black carriage with uniformly black horses and a very small and fidgety driver pulled up at the grand gateway to the Ascavia palace. When the vehicle clambered up the road, all the guards snapped to attention, eyes fixed keenly on the doors of the carriage. Peter, nervous as always, hopped down from his seat and scurried towards the carriage doors. Hansel watched through the window with some amusement as the man tried to open the door and lost hold of the grip. He was grateful for the extra time though. It meant a few extra seconds for him to prepare himself to look and act the part of a proper Prince.

When Peter did finally manage to yank the door open in a rather undignified fashion, Hansel rose from his seat and clambered out of the carriage, cloak bundled up in his hands. As he stepped out into the evening light, he calmly rose to his full height of over six feet and stared at the guards in front of him. He offered a small smile, though nothing near his usual mischievous one.

“Where is my sister Gretel?”

His tone was light, but also direct and forceful. It was clear that he wanted to be answered immediately. One of the guards bowed and muttered towards the ground, “She is yet to arrive, Prince Hansel. Perhaps while you wait, we can have you situated in your designated bedchamber?”

“What a kind offer, but no I’ll have to decline.” Hansel replied as politely as he was able to. He couldn’t muster this guise for much longer. What he really wanted to do was flee from here, or better yet, slay these talkative guards.

His hand twitched, reaching for the knife, but he thought better. Rather, he diplomatically said, “I think I’ll wait here for her.”
With his mind made up, the Prince settled down in a spot near the gate. The guards and Peter, realizing they could do nothing else, headed their separate ways. The guards back to their posts, and Peter back into his carriage to commence the long ride home.