Chapter 1 - Outcast“The poison of selfishness destroys the world.” -Catherine of Siena Vastius, the son of the great king of Locum Populo walked down the streets of the castle city. He was on his way to see the finest blacksmith around to get the best sword money could buy. The buildings of the town were simple compared to the castle. They were simple, made from stones shaped to fit together perfectly. Each building was made of wood, with a basic functional design and hay thatch roofs to provide cover against rain. As Vastius walked, he passed a beggar laying against a wall in the street. He wore nothing but rags, and his face was covered in scruff. The man was absolutely pitiful. “Please sir, could you spare a little change for a poor man?” The beggar pleaded as Vastius passed by. “Why would I give anything to a lowlife street urchin like you?” Vastius said, his voice shrill. “What have you done to earn it? Have you done anything but beg in the streets?” “I have no home, and no one will hire me, sir.” The beggar said. “I have no way to make ends meet. Please, I am starving.” “Get off your lazy butt and go do something to earn it. You will not have any of my money.” Vastius sneered. “If anything you owe me money for taking up my valuable time.” Vastius turned from the beggar and continued on his way. Soon he came upon the finest blacksmith shop in the country. He entered into the simple workshop. It was very basic, with nothing but a forge, an anvil, and a quench bucket. The forge was comprised of a bed of flaming hot coals, with massive leather billows pumping air into the flames. A young apprentice stood pumping the billows while the master blacksmith ran about working on various projects and orders. “Blacksmith, I must speak with you at once.” Vastius demanded. “It is of the utmost importance.” The Blacksmith wiped his hands on the apron across his chest and walked over to where Vastius stood waiting impatiently. “What can I do for you Prince Vastius?” The Blacksmith said, his voice tired. “I simply must have the finest sword you can forge immediately,” Vastius said. “Now chop chop, hurry up.” The Blacksmith glared at Vastius as he got to work. He had dealt with Vastius before and was sick of the royal prince's vanity and entitlement. Constantly he would be interrupted by the prince, who would demand some huge order or another. He thought about how nice it would be to throw a lump of hot coal at the prince as he shoved a piece of iron into the burning hot forge. After a few minutes of working on hammering the blade, which was extremely difficult work, Vastius spoke. “Is it ready yet smithy?” Vastius demanded. “No, Prince Vastius.” the Blacksmith replied. “It takes time to provide you with a great sword.” “I demand you give it to me this instant!” Vastius said. “Give it to me now!” The Blacksmith finally had enough. He’d been dealing with the selfish prince for years now, and he was sick of it. “I quit!” The Blacksmith said. “I have dealt with your hogwash for far to long! Make the darned sword yourself you selfish whiny little twirp!” The Blacksmith threw the half-finished sword to the ground, the heated metal scorching the dirt floor. He stormed out the back door of the workshop, leaving Vastius alone with the apprentice. “Well, what are you waiting for?” Vastius said. “Finish the sword you little low life.” The apprentice didn’t say a single word. He turned and followed the master blacksmith out the back door. “Both of you, get back here this instant!” Vastiuses face went beet red as he yelled into the back door of the shop. “Finish my sword!” “Finish it yourself!” The Blacksmith yelled from outside. Extremely upset and swordless, Vastius stormed out of the blacksmith's workshop and back into the street. He was in an extremely sour mood as he walked home to his father's castle. In the road were several kids playing with a makeshift ball. They kicked it around, trying to hit it into doors on opposing sides of the street. As Vastius approached them, the ball rolled up to his feet. He looked down, picked the ball up, and threw it on the nearest roof. “Watch where you kick the ball you street urchins,” Vastius said. He continued up the road. He entered into the castle through the massive gates, complaining to the guards as he walked in. Vastius stormed into his room and flopped onto his massive king-sized bed. He fell asleep despite his furious anger at the smithy and his apprentice. Prince Vastius was soon woken up by his father the King entering his room. The King was a portly man, and his brown hair was greying. He wore a crown bedazzled in jewels on top of his rather round head. The Kings face was contorted into a scowl as he entered the room. “Vastius, what have you done this time?!” The King said, waking Vastius from his slumber. “You drove off our finest Blacksmith, and for what, a sword?” “It was all the smithies fault father,” Vastius complained. “He couldn’t make my sword fast enough so he quit. I had nothing to do with it.” “I have had enough of your lies Vastius!” The King bellowed. “I thought I raised you better than this.” “I told you, I had nothing to do with it!” Vastius said. “LIES! You have forced my hand my boy. I cannot bear to call you my son any longer. Until you can show kindness, humility, and selflessness, you are no longer my son!” “Wha-what do you mean?” Vastius said. “You can’t do that! I am the prince!” “And I am the King. I am truly sorry I did not raise you better Vastius. Guards! Remove this man from the castle at once. Throw him out to the street!” Two guards entered the room. They were both very buff and covered with armor. Each grabbed one of Vastiuses arms. They dragged him kicking and screaming through the castle halls. As they approached the gates, Vastius started to cry and beg with the guards. The gates opened as the guards threw Vastius into the street outside the gate. As the gate closed, the ex-prince huddled up against the castle wall. He was all alone, without power, without riches, and without food. His stomach growled as he bent his head between his legs. Vastius cried, wishing his father had not left him, hoping he would change his mind. He was on his own. Tell me what you think!Hey all you beautiful people! So that was the first chapter of a story I plan on continuing. The plan is for this to be a kind of weekly or so short story type thing. I hope you enjoyed it, and tell me what you guys think! Comment down below about where you think this is going, and what you think of Vastius. Until next time, keep on writing!
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Welcome to The Writers Block!AuthorKen Mears is a new 17 year old author, here to share his wisdom, advice, and experiences with you, the reader! Archives
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