1 Chapter 1: The Day I Reclaimed The Name Prince

What is the difference between a hero, a villain and a coward?

A hero uses his sword to protect people

A villain uses people to protect his sword

Both are better than a coward

A coward has no sword, and uses empty words to protect his life

A sword is not just a man's weapon, it is a man's ambition, and without ambition, a man is merely a coward.

In order to be a hero or a villain a man must have ambition. The difference between the two is where that ambition lies.

-The Dark Prince

January 3rd 1613

"Spare change… Please… have you any mercy for an old man?" An old man begged.

An old man and a teenage boy stood beside a pile of manure on the side of a cobblestone road, begging for money. Dressed in nothing but rags on a December afternoon, the two shivered as men in quilts and Wool coats spat at them in the center of Vienne square. Surrounded by a crowd of people on either side of the road, they jingled their bronze cups of meager donations, hoping to get a coin or two from the Lords who had assembled for the great king's hearing.

Covering his mouth and nose with his rags, the teenage boy silently extended out his cup.

"Please good sir… you seem like a reasonable fellow… please if you could-" The old man began.

"Get your leper hand out of my face!" A knight escorting one of the nobles yelled.

Stepping out of the progressions formation, he shoved the old man into the boy beside him. Colliding into the boy's chest, he spilled the cup the boy was holding, along with the few coins he had managed to collect, as the two fell into a spilt wagon of manure. Within moments peasants from all over the marketplace nipped every single coin, as well as the brass cup the boy had been using to collect them.

Soaked in a disgusting manure and robbed of all his coins, the boy leaned over examining the palms of his hands.

"I'm so sorry young man," The old man said, trying to console the teenager. "I've just gone and ruined your day haven't I?"

"Hmph," The boy laughed "And why would you say that?"

"You're covered in filth… and look, you've lost all of your money! And it's all my fault!"

"Wrong," The boy answered, cracking a smile. "That's exactly how a weak man would think."

"A weak man?" The old man questioned scratching his head.

"Is it your fault I am on the street begging? Or your fault that arrogant piece of shit shoved an old man who was freezing to death in the middle of December? No, you must mean it was your fault the puddle of mud happened to be there, or maybe, your fault all those people became peasants and stole all my money." The boy said softly "Only apologize if you are god, after all, it is only he who could control so many circumstances."

"You… you are a very kind boy," The old man said smiling.

"I hate that word," The boy answered, tightening his fist.

He walked to the edge of the sidewalk looking at the progression of nobles.

"In this world, kind people die, or end up on the street as beggars." The boy said, raising his hand. "Saying I am a kind person is no different than wishing everything was taken away from me." The boy said.

"Well, are you not on the street begging? Are you not someone who has had everything taken from you?" The old man asked.

"That may be true…" The boy said defiantly "But today is different, today is the day I am going to get it all back."

"What is so remarkable about this day? The day in which you have lost all of your money and are covered in pig shit?" The old man laughed.

"Today," The boy said walking out into the precession.

"Hey! Get out of the WAY!!!!" A man cried.

"Is the day I step out of the darkness…"

"Sir Ivan! Watch out!" A man yelled.

"Today is the day I once again reclaim the name,"

"Prince."