Public Gathering Platform

Unnamed Town

While Atlas had his tasteless meal and retired to his bed, a large crowd gathered around a brightly lit pavilion. Atop the wooden pavilion, Baron Helm stood to address the crowd with a solemn expression on his face.

“My people, I’m sure that by now all of you have heard about the most recent order that I’ve passed down.”

The piggish Baron’s voice was unusually deep and chock-full of emotions.

“How ‘ould ya do dis to us!?!”

“Yea! Wat’s with de sudden mandate!?”

“Are’ve gonna die!? O’ Lords! I ‘new comin to this place was a terrible de’sion! The forests are cursed!! Even the wars got ‘etter pros’ects!”

The crowd clamored, some more than the others.

“Everyone, please! Calm down!” The Baron thundered, silencing the crowds. “I understand that this change is rather sudden. But please know that I HAVE to do this because there is no other choice.”

His face had an expression of apology on it, while his waist bent at a full.

“For this, I sincerely apologize to every one of you!”

He suddenly bowed.

Everyone within the crowd was shocked into silence. This was the first time that these peasants have seen their noble lord apologize to them.

It was the first not because he refused to do it in the past, but because there had been no need to; the peasants had never faced any issues which required their noble lord to apologize.

Baron Helm was a good man.

This notion wasn’t known only to his household or to the king but to the entire fief. These citizens who populated his lands knew better than any other, the extent of the Baron’s goodness.

“There has been an issue with our grain storage, leading to a shortage in our rations. What was previously enough to last us for months will now only last us for a week, if consumed in consideration. This problem was caused solely by me and my lack of foresight.”

“Now, I know that I make for an incompetent ruler,” The Baron despondently said, ”I’m not a Lord who is worthy of being followed by two-hundred and forty-seven citizens of the kingdom into this dismal forest. But please, I ask you…nay, I beg you to not lose hope!”

“Not on your lives, not on this town, and not on this kingdom!”

He raised his head and cried. His eyes possessed a glittering light to them.

“The Almighty put you through many challenges and even burdened you with my presence. But! He did not leave you to suffer! For where I’m lacking, He has sent another to lead you! To guide all of you, and me, through these turbid times and into the light of prosperity!”

“Favored by the Gods and with the blood of royalty flowing through his veins, he is…!”

“Atlas Constantine! The Prince of the Constantine Kingdom and the Final Remnant of the Royal Family! Our Leader!!”

Baron Helm vivaciously preached while the crowd listened in a stupor.

The large-bodied, hog-faced man then proceeded to list out the young prince’s decisions, why he had done so, and the reasoning behind them, since his arrival in this quaint, reclusive town. The Baron also narrated the tale of the young prince’s heroic struggle with life and death and how he had overcome a pack of wolves.

While the crowd remained dubious at first, they slowly began to take up an interest in the young prince’s story.

By the end of it, most of them looked convinced by the little successor’s genius and ingenuity. They were looking forward to meeting the young prince tomorrow and personally seeing how much of his glory was true.

If the Baron’s words were true, perhaps this young teenager would be their salvation within this accursed forest.

---

“I’m sorry. Would you mind repeating that? You did what?”

Rubbing the back of his sore neck, Atlas sat up on his rickety bed and sleepily questioned the piggish Baron standing in front of him.

The night had passed and morning had arrived. The young prince, who had just been woken up by the excited Baron, had a little trouble processing the latter’s words.

“Everyone within the town is very eager to meet you, my liege! You are to address the residents in a morning assembly upon the public pavilion!”

Baron Helm excitedly repeated.

It was true. The Baron’s pseudo-religious proclamation about the young prince to the masses had its intended effect.

Everyone was looking forward to personally meeting the young prince and seeing whether he really was the dragon or phoenix that the Baron shaped him up to be.

“How would they know about me?”

The star of the show, however, had a little trouble understanding the Baron’s words.

‘I don’t even think it’s been a full twenty-four hours since my arrival in this town. How does everyone know about me already? Who told them?’

“I told them, my liege!”

“What the fu*k?” Atlas reflexively cursed.

“Y-your Highness! Someone of your royal stature mustn’t speak such foul words!” The Baron scolded, caught off-guard by his liege’s cursing.

Atlas did not care for his words. In fact, the Baron’s words did not even enter his mind and were left unprocessed in the air.

He was shocked.

Well, shocked wasn’t a word powerful enough to describe the emotion he was feeling right now. Let’s see…

No, a single word could not accurately condense and reflect the intensity of the young boy’s feelings. What he felt wasn’t one single emotion but a cluster of extremely powerful feelings.

Atlas felt like someone stomped on his balls, spit in his mouth, pissed all over his body, and left him to dry out in the sun in the middle of nowhere. That was how he felt.

And to tell the truth, he wasn’t sure how to process it.

Staring unflinchingly at the funny-looking Baron, Atlas thought to himself. ‘What a curious creature. I wonder what it really is.’

‘Is it a man looking like a pig while secretly being one inside, or is it a pig acting like a man, hoping to recreate the utter disappointment and scathing failure that he is?’

‘How? Just how?’ Atlas wondered, anger now having passed him.

‘I genuinely curious how his brain works? What was his leap in logic that said ‘Hey! Do you know what’s a good idea? Telling everyone that the Royal Blood is not fully dead and that a remnant, a prince mind you, still survives! What more? He’s also going to lead the citizens on an uprising against the invading power.’

‘What’s next? Sending a beacon into the air to inform the invading forces to show them our location? That would help with our situation, right? I mean, what’s hunger and sickness going to do when we’re all dead. It’s a good solution.’

“My liege! Is something the matter!? Why aren’t you responding to my words!?! Are you okay? Are you sick or perhaps, hurting somewhere?”

The young prince had his monologue interrupted by the Baron; the latter grabbed onto the frail prince’s shoulder and fiercely shook him.

The previously excited face of Baron Helm was now colored with pensive worry.

Exhaling a deep sigh, one that originated from the depths of his very existence, Atlas replied, “I don’t deserve you, Baron Helm. You truly are a priceless individual.”

The Baron’s face blushed with embarrassment. “Oh! My liege. This servant isn’t deserving of such praise. I simply did what…”

‘I must have this man sire a few children for me to study. Is idiocy genetic or a fixed characteristic of an individual? I must know.’ Not a single word of the Baron’s modesty went heard as Atlas sunk into a new field of thought himself.

Word had gotten out about him. Circumstances had forced his hand. There was no point in hiding within the manor and using the Baron as his proxy. Atlas had to face his people.

‘All I can hope is that whoever sold my family out, isn’t amongst the citizens of this town. And if they are, I need to be ahead of them.’

Coincidentally captured by monsters? Yeah, right. There was no way Atlas was going to believe such an obvious lie.

Someone ‘knew’ about the routes and the timing of the Royal Family’s departure. And it wasn’t some vague knowledge either, but precise details of their travel.

With a little elementary thinking, Atlas came up with two possibilities; either someone close on his father’s side had betrayed the king by leading them into the den of monsters, or someone on the Baron’s side had seen the king’s letter and led the monsters to them.

If it was the first possibility, Atlas was safe for now. However, if it was the second…

The young prince was out in the open while the enemy lurked in the shadows.