Messages to Nowhere

"What did your mother and father say?" Leron asked after Vladstin opened the letter. Elenore was resting in an elegant ebony birdcage, treated with lots and lots of squash seeds.

Vladstin scanned the letter, his eyes flirting back and forth, from side to side.

Leron peeked by his neck. Before Leron could read past the warm regards and niceties, Vladstin felt his breath on his neck and immediately yelled, "No!"

Leron was confused. "What's wrong? Can't I see it?"

"You can't." Vladstin shook his head.

"Is it too personal?" Leron asked.

Vladstin didn't answer and bit his lip. The young Prince of Crescentia didn't know how to lie, so he often just keep quiet if he has to.

"Don't worry, I won't pry." Leron promised.

"Well, they told me to say hello to you for them." Vladstin said. "Hello, from Mother and Father."

Leron found Vladstin very amusing and chuckled. "Tell His Majesty King Lazar and Her Majesty Queen Vanesda that I send them warm regards as well."

There was an awkward silence, and Vladstin was holding the envelope close to his chest. He truly does not want Leron to see it.

"I shall be going to the study now." Leron took his leave. "Our talk about your own legends and beliefs made me interested in learning more about Crescentian culture. You can take your time reading your parents' letter to you, I will give you your privacy."

"Alright." Vladstin nodded, still looking unsure.

Leron left and went to the study, but did not read books about this kingdom's culture. The conversation about sending messages through carrier birds reminded young Leron of his purpose in Crescentia.

Hanging from a hidden view at the side of the window, Leron reached out his tiny hands to find something. Then, he brought in a tiny birdcage.

"Good day, Poel." Leron greeted the stark white dove, spotless and dainty.

The dove flew by his wrist when he opened the cage. "Be still. Do not fly off. I am still yet to write my message to my father."

He took out a small, red pouch and sprayed the contents in front of the table. They were some olives he had stolen from the kitchen to feed to Poel. He does this every time Vladstin would be distracted enough not to follow him around or was having a short afternoon nap.

Poel happily pecked at the olives, and Leron slowly stroke its feathers. "Sorry, this will hurt a bit. I needed to borrow one."

He plucked one of the unsuspecting dove's feathers. "Krooo!"

Poel made a sound of pain but was too busy eating. Leron used this feather as a quill and dipped it in ink. He took an empty parchment from the study's desk and started to write his letter.

It went like this:

Father,

I have not received a response from my last letter to you. I assumed you were busy or that you did not find my report of any interest. However, is it too much to ask for you to even acknowledge the welfare of your son? I am alive and well, and still living harmoniously with the Crescentian Royal Family.

I have yet to learn a 'dark' secret about them. The more I learned, the more I found their people.... ordinary. They have customs that stemmed from their history, they speak, they laugh, they cry.... they are the same as me and you. They are people.

Can we not slay the royal family once we invade? I do not see the point of it. We could take all their riches and treasures, but why take their life? I hope my letter would convince you.

Crescentia has been.... a good experience for me. It is a good country with good people. I would prefer not to destroy them.

-Leron

Leron's feelings had drowned out his logic, overflowing with seething anger and desperation. So much that he did not realize he had written vital pieces of information that if read by a Crescentian would doom him. He looked at the paper again, sighed, and took a matchbox.

He set the paper with his honest feelings on fire, threw it from the window, and let the wind carry the ashes.

He rewrote his letter on another parchment.

This time, he went more vague:

I await your response. No news yet. Why not only take the pearls and not kill the clams for it? This is but my humble suggestion, please consider it. I am well in the sea, the clams are good to me.

-L

He tied the much shorter and straightforward letter around Poel's neck. "Deliver this to father."

Poel cocked its head from the side, seeing its master frowning. It rubbed its head on his hand, a gesture of comfort.

"I am alright. See if father has a letter for me also." Leron patted its head lightly. "Though I highly doubt it. The moment he sees 'No news', he would not care anymore. He does not even ask how I have been these days."

Poel makes a gargling sound that felt like an agreement, or at least Leron interpreted it as such. "Sometimes I wish...."

"Leron, I brought you some pineapple juice and yam fritters!"

"Go!" Leron immediately yelled and pushed Poel up to fly to the sky, but it was too late.

"A bird was here!" Vladstin pointed to the window. "Was it yours? We're you sending a message?"

"Of course not. I have nowhere to send it." Leron denied with a calm, unchanging face. "I was only keeping it as a pet."

"It looked like it was white. Was it a dove?" Vladstin asked. "Maybe it could play with Elenore! I could train it to send messages too. Maybe we could watch them fly together!"

"Poel is a bit coy. He doesn't respond to strangers easily." Leron made up an excuse. "No, he's actually scared of people other than me, and easily gets stressed from someone else's presence. That's why I kept him as a secret."

"Oh, that's unfortunate. I was looking forward for Elenore to have a great friend despite not having the same kind of feathers." Vladstin said.

Prince Leron couldn't help but grin. "Like you and me?"

"Hey, you belong to Crescentia now. This is your home too, so were birds of the same feather." Vladstin said.

"I find that allegory difficult to follow. Birds can't change their feathers. If you are a raven and I am a dove, that means I must have had by feathers painted black for it to make sense." Leron's childish brain was still full of unnecessary thoughts.

Vladstin's brain was also like that too. "Or maybe my color rubbed off on you enough for it to change! Anyway, what I'm saying is were born different from each other, but now we're two great friends. So you and I are just the same."

Color rubbing off... Leron hoped that really was possible. He wished he could be as honest and authentically kind as the prince before him. He wished he could somehow gain the courage to speak his mind, to be unafraid and free to choose for himself, just by spending time with people who are like that.

But even if you paint a dove black, it is still a dove. It was still meek and docile, staying in place whenever it was stuck inside a cage. No initiative to fight or break free, that's why magician's like to use them the most.

He was a dove used to trick Vladstin and his parents' eyes, and his father was the magician with a hat. He was a dove, and sooner or later, he will have a disappearing act. Then, the prize of the magic trick was the audience's lives.

"Do you not like the food? Should I get you something else?" Vladstin broke him out from his poetic meanderings.

The Prince has set out a tray for him, and he was staring off to space like a buffoon. "Thank you, I haven't tried this one before so I was amazed by the color."

"We use purple yam. It's sweeter than usual." Vladstin explained, and stabbed one with a fork. "Here, try it!"

Leron opened his mouth, and Vladstin took notice of how pink and plump his lips were. Whenever he pouts, the lower lip was always jutting out. Whenever he smiles, it rises only a little by the edges. Even in its neutral state, Vladstin finds that little mouth adorable.

The yam fritter was slightly greasy, bringing a glossy shine on Leron's pretty lips. Vladstin unconsciously touched it.

It was soft and warm enough to feel like it would melt his fingers. Vladstin's tiny confused heart was rattled.

"Your Highness, why did you...?" Leron looked really confused, big blue eyes wide.

"I-It was oily, sorry!" Vladstin said.

"Ah. It really was, it must be deep-fried." Leron took a sip from the glass of pineapple juice. "Good thing the juice can even out the greasiness."

"Yeah...." Vladstin looked away, eyes staring at nowhere in particular, heart rate rising.

Why is he being like this today? Does he have a sickness or something?

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