Prince Nameless

I was always an odd child, though I had no idea what odd was, really. Being raised in a family just like me meant I had no clue I was different. My father was an avid reader, as was my mother, though it was Dad's passion for fantasy and science fiction that drew me in.

I knew I wanted to be a writer by the age of twelve, having soaked up most of my father's extensive library. The few friends I maintained gathered at my family home every weekend to play Dungeons and Dragons with Dad presiding as Dungeon Master, so my life seemed absolutely ordinary.

We never did have much money, but even that didn't seem strange, since no one I knew did either. Besides, my life was rich and full of the imaginary.

Always very good in school, I found myself, in grade five and six, suddenly aware of how different other children's lives were to mine. Not everyone had a big red half-draft horse who waited at the fence for them every day, nor did they have made-up friends and adventures that sometimes seemed as authentic as the 'real' world.

***

The warrioress rides over the hill and pauses, black horse snorting puffs of breath as he paws the road. Her shield has seen many battles, well-used sword hanging from her hip as if a part of her body.

It's been a long and empty road, and loneliness finally calls, a break from adventure and a chance to rest. The walled city below looks a likely place. She urges her weary mount forward, his heavy hooves raising dust as he picks up speed.

The guards at the gate offer no conversation, ignoring her as she rides inside. Just past the large iron barrier she sees it—a statue, perfectly shaped and painted, the image of the most beautiful man she has ever seen. Tall, dark haired with rugged good looks any maiden would swoon over, the placard at his feet proclaims he is Prince Nameless, the ruler of this city.

Her heart is lost, the road forgotten in a moment of absolute attraction. Fate brought her to him. Surely here is the destiny she's been seeking her entire life. She has never known love. Until now.

As she gazes up at him in adoration, she hears the sounds of horns. And, to her utter delight, the object of her desire appears in a parade of pomp and circumstance.

Not thinking or considering her actions, she spurs her horse forward, smiling, pulling her helmet free, extending her hand toward the Prince and her future.

He pulls back from her in horror. His guards act instantly, roughly jerking her horse aside, clearing the way for the Prince and his followers to continue on.

She watches him go, heart yearning as it has never before.

He doesn't look back.

She was sure he would.

When she turns away, she looks down into the puddle of water at her horse's feet and understands. Her hair is a squashed mess, face sweaty and filthy from her ride. No wonder he wanted nothing to do with her!

She must make him notice her. Something flutters in her peripheral vision and she dismounts to examine the sheet of parchment tacked to the side of a squat stone building.

A wanted poster. A giant threatens the peasants who raise crops for the Prince. The reward is to be personally granted by the man himself.

She's faced worse before. And she knows once she's proven herself, he'll love her for certain.

Settling her helmet in place, she remounts and wheels her steed back the way she came.

She has a giant to slay.

***

I wonder if I would have remained oblivious to boys for a few years longer, so wrapped up was I in the happy places of my own making. But a new friend drew me to her because she was so very different, possessing all the fancy clothes and makeup that baffled and fascinated me.

Because of her, for those two brief years, I found myself ensconced as one of the cool kids with no clear perception of what it really meant. I had lots of people who wanted to hang around with me, boys who wanted to kiss me. My first, second and third boyfriends happened in those years and I still remember them fondly. Not because they were really boyfriends in the technical sense, but because they were my friends at all.

It was a magical time. I had no idea being in the middle of such things was even possible. I became lost in my need to maintain what I had found and drifted away from my love of books and fantasy.

And then, out of the blue, it was over.

***

She finds the giant resting under a huge tree, hands folded over his rounded belly, eyes closed, humming a tune that makes the ground shake.

“Ho, Giant,” she calls out, pulling her sword free. “I've come to save the peasants and receive the reward the Prince has promised.”

The giant sighs and opens his eyes, meeting hers as he sits forward to examine her more closely.

“You seem a smart girl,” he rumbles. “And yet you willingly believe the worst about a total stranger without seeking the truth.”

His words make her hesitate. “You claim you are innocent of your crimes?”

“I am falsely accused,” he says. “But there is a more important question to be pondered here. Ask your Prince why he fears strength in others.”

At the mention of the Prince, his face comes into her mind, and she finds her heart hardening against the giant.

“Do not try to deceive me,” she says. “I will have the reward he promised from his own hands and shall save the innocent peasants both with one stroke.”

The giant bends his head to her. “Kill me then,” he says. “If he means so very much to you.”

She pauses one more moment, not sure why guilt rises as she finally lets her sword fall to slay him.

Task complete, she ties the giant's head to her saddle and rides back to the city, a smile growing on her lips, all concern vanishing as she thinks about the Prince and her reward.

***

The moment grade seven started, I was a nerd again, just like that. Only now I knew what a nerd was, and that I'd been one all along without understanding the terminology or the implications. The shock and hurt at my sudden ostracization hit me like a blow. Junior high was a wake-up call as I found myself mixing in with new kids from other schools, all brought together in a place far bigger than I was used to.

My confusion at my sudden loss of status forced me to retreat back into the imaginary worlds which sustained me. Though now I used them as a retreat, not a joy, and felt guilt every time I tapped into my creativity.

I felt like I'd lost two precious things—my joyful, embracing make-believe worlds and all the incredible adventure they brought and the cool-kid status and experiences I'd only just begun to accept as my norm.

It didn't take long for sensitive, expressive and creative me to retreat from everyone, to hide in melancholy and growing hurt. Told I was weird, I was taught by others my age the passion I had for the creative was wrong and was to blame for my being outcast.

There were moments I railed against the injustice. How did it happen? Where did my popularity go? How did the switch get flipped? My fleeting days of coolness were gone and I was driven, back into my world of weirdness which, ironically, only encouraged my condition, as though it were a disease, to worsen.

***

She returns triumphant to the gates of the city. This time the guards take notice, but only to snicker at her, to point fingers. Not that it matters to her. She's acted as the Prince commanded and now she is ready to accept her reward.

Odd how the nasty man at the front door to the palace doesn’t want to let her in. But she isn’t taking no for an answer. The giant's head hanging from her hands, she drags the bloody mess down the main hall and to the Prince's chambers.

He is busy when she arrives, still breathless and full of excitement at the prospect of seeing him again.

“Yes, yes,” he says, too enraptured by his reflection in the mirror as three tailors fit his shining new clothing. “Just leave it at the door.”

“My reward, your Highness?” Her voice cracks and warbles as her heart speeds up at the thought of receiving his adoration.

His sigh is long and deep and full of suffering, more intent on stroking the soft fabric of his new clothing than paying any attention to her whatsoever. The Prince snaps his fingers, to which a young man leaps into action, handing him a small, worn leather bag.

Nameless's smile glitters, perfect white teeth shining in the light as he gestures to the boy who drops the bag at her feet.

He turns away from her, already moving off. She has to stop him! This isn’t at all what she'd dreamed, hoped, expected. Her bloody hands reach and latch onto the back of his perfect new tunic.

She's never been kicked out of anywhere before. Especially not by the man she loves, he so red faced and unable to speak from rage she is sure his head will explode.

Her heart sinks as she is ushered out of the palace, the door slamming shut behind her.

Her heart, still hurting, but more determined than ever, yearns for the Prince and drives her.

There has to be another way!

***

I met him for the first time that fateful year of junior high, shortly after my lack of position made itself known, but too soon for me to realize just what my fall from grace actually meant. He shall remain, as always, nameless, but in my teenaged heart, he was Prince Charming. Tall, dark-haired, with the dashing good looks I'd come to expect from descriptions of heroes and knights, he was the epitome of everything I'd dreamed about.

He was as new as I was to the school, but seemed to arrive with his influence intact. My instant love for him was shared by most of the girls, though I was absolutely sure none of them felt for him what I did.

At first I tried what I'd done in elementary school, rushing in to greet him. Only to crash and burn when met with disdainful rejection. That was the moment I understood my place and put him, very firmly, on a pedestal I could never rise to no matter how hard I tried.

My turning in was, from that point, inevitable, shyness taking over where open hearted honesty once lived. I find it so sad now, in many ways. I learned my first year of junior high my advances weren't welcome and it was better if I just watched from a distance and let the fantasy of what I needed fill in the holes.

Hello, weirdo. And yes, I was one, I know it, fair enough. But the reveal was the kicker, the painful unveiling I wasn't good enough, didn't have enough, wasn't able to fit in even when I tried.

I was in the throes of first love, followed him like a nerdy shadow, obsessed over him in my writing and imaginary creations and pined every day for one simple, single acknowledgment from him he'd taken notice.

***

The second wanted poster makes her shudder. A mighty gryphon has attacked the Prince's cattle. But, wonder of wonders, the reward includes dinner with the Prince. Dinner! She will have the chance to make a real impression.

The gryphon is easy to locate, sunning itself on the banks of the river. She draws her horse to a halt, sword out again, ready to do her Prince's will.

“Ho, Gryphon,” she says. “I've come to slay you by order of the Prince!”

The gryphon lifts his head, eagle beak clacking together as he speaks, lion's tail twitching in the grass. “Warrioress,” he says in the voice of a soaring bird of prey, “I have done nothing to summon the Prince's wrath.”

“He demands your death.” It sounds weak to her. But dinner! How can she not act?

“I beg of you,” the gryphon says, “ask yourself why it is the Prince wishes my skin. What is it about how he looks he despises so he needs what I have to make himself pretty?”

She can’t listen though her soul weeps and pleads with her to stop. The gryphon is soon dispatched and his glorious golden hide drapes over her horse's withers.

This time when she rides through the gates, she is acutely aware of the stares and whispers and feels herself becoming self-conscious and uncomfortable with the attention. She reaches the palace gates quickly, though the servant at the door takes the hide from her, not the Prince.

“My dinner!” She's done things that have shamed her. She is not about to leave without her reward.

“Very well,” the man says. “Return tonight. You shall have your dinner.”

***

The saddest part, really, was how painfully obvious it was to everyone else. It was clear to the entire student body I was hopelessly in love.

Grade seven ended and I pined away for him all summer, lost in the romantic fantasy I'd created. The story of US grew bigger and brighter with every sunny day that passed, though I spent my summer, totally unlike me, locked inside my house with thoughts of him. Gone was my childish playfulness, my daily jaunts to the local beach, innocent pleasures of country living and exploring ignored in favor of my total embrace of what I created around him.

As the first day of grade eight grew close, I carefully prepared, now so deeply into him it was truly pathetic. I'd decided the only way I could attract him was to be one of the cool kids, to do what I could to shed my weirdness and act like the popular crowd.

With the carefully hoarded money I'd made working here and there all summer, I bought what I felt were trendy clothes and my first makeup. I even had my sister's friend cut my hair, though she sheared it almost boy short.

I'm sure my few friends shook their heads at me, already bored to tears by my endless obsession. Why didn't one of them take me and shake me? I wouldn't have listened.

Day one, I walked into school with so much optimism. I was sure I'd done it the way I was supposed to, gotten it right at last. Only to understand, the moment I tried to fit in, I'd only made matters worse. I was now a weird girl trying too hard.

If anything, my attempts to be one of 'them' made me all the more pathetic.

He continued to ignore me. And my failure drove me deeper inside.

***

The warrioress stares at herself in the mirror of the local beauty garden, shocked at what she sees. The dress she wears is a little thread-worn, but she loves how it swings around her feet. Her hair is carefully arranged, eyes and lips coated in cosmetics and fake jewels sparkling on her hands and around her neck.

Here then is the woman who will sweep the Prince from his feet!

She chooses to ignore the nasty giggling from the other women. She's done what she can, and it will be enough, she's sure of it.

As she leaves, she straps her trusty sword to her side, patting its familiar weight before, whistling and smiling, she goes off to meet her fate.

The man at the palace door stares, eyes huge and she takes it as a good sign. She is led down the long hall to a huge dining area, the walls covered in beautiful tapestries, heavy wooden table and chairs carved with intricate designs. She spots the Prince at the far end of the room, starts to head for him, only to be shown to her seat at the other end, between a snoring old man and a jittery little girl wearing thick-lensed glasses.

Despair rises. How will her Prince notice her now? And there he sits, with the gryphon's pelt wrapped around him. She can hear some of what is said, how his hangers on admire his appearance, how beautiful they tell him he is.

The warrioress sinks into her own seat, hands smoothing over the faded fabric of her gown.

Dinner is ashes in her mouth, but she forces herself to chew, swallow, drink the stale water with the lumpy stew while she watches her Prince and his followers eat the finest beef and drink the most sparkling of wines.

As she rises to go at last, not waiting for dessert, she notices two ladies who had been sitting with the Prince smiling at her.

“Come,” one says, taking her hand. “His Highness would like to speak to you.”

“Yes,” the other giggles. “But in private.”

She laughs with them, hope soaring. Of course. He wants to thank her in person.

Excitement wins the day and she finds herself swept along by the song in her heart.

***

How? How could I make him notice me when I was obviously so ugly and he was so beautiful? I tried dressing provocatively a few times, but only had myself briefly labeled a slut for my efforts.

My heart broke every time I looked at him. I only wanted to be near him, to hear him say my name, laugh with me, not at me, gaze into my eyes and tell me he felt what I did but never had the courage to admit it.

My luck changed one glorious day when, miracle of miracles, I made some cool friends in drama club. Imagine! But they could do nothing for me, to bring me closer to him, and finally my need and my weirdness drove them away as well. They didn't understand the fantasy world I'd built, slowly consuming me.

Let me be perfectly clear. I blame myself for all of this, or at least the hormone-laden girl I was who had no idea she practically stalked the poor boy, though I swear I never once went to his house.

Had his address, though. Just in case. Because, who knew, right?

And then, one day as I sat in the very public lobby of my school, directly across from him as I always did so I could watch him at all times, I was approached by two girls who were known to be his friends.

Ah, folly, thy name is young love.

***

She paces nervously, trying to think of something to say. His chambers are beautiful, full of things that make her feel like she doesn’t belong, but she take this opportunity to have more, be more.

Her lonely days will soon be over and her poor, tired horse can finally rest.

Unlike her heart, which refuses to stop pounding her love for Prince Nameless.

***

The girls who approached me that day were mean girls, though I had no what the term meant. They were simply border liners, the class between where I was and where the cool kids were, slipping back and forth over the invisible barrier. I envied them. At least if I'd been one of the middle ground kids I would have been closer to him.

They came to me, out there in the open, and asked if I wanted to be his girlfriend.

A silly question. Of course I did.

Only then did they drop their bomb of delight. He'd sent them, messengers of the god I worshiped with all my heart. To include me, bring me across the line and make me not only his, but one of the cool kids, forevermore.

Amen.

I have no idea how I managed to play it so cool while my innards did back flips and excited gyrations. I calmly nodded to their proposal, accepting it with the aplomb of the Queen of School I was about to become. While my friends congratulated me on my coup, the cruel pair, giggling and whispering to themselves, left me there while they crossed the seemingly endless expanse of the lobby to tell my true love his fair maiden had said yes.

And then.

The tragedy.

They reached him as I watched, bent to whisper in his ear. I felt myself smiling, ready to go to him even as he jerked away, leaping to his feet, horrified eyes meeting mine as he shouted for the entire school to hear:

“NO!”

***

The Prince sweeps into his chambers, instantly furious to find her there. He laughs in her face, tells her no matter what she does he will never love her, and, in fact, “I think the very idea quite ridiculous.”

She begs, she weeps, falls to her knees until she has to be pulled bodily up by his guards as the Prince orders her out.

Still sobbing, she changes back into her warrior's apparel, forced to mount her weary steed as guards drive her out of the city while everyone laughs and points and makes mockery of her.

And there, as she passes, her head down, sad face streaked with tears, are the two ladies who'd duped her, and it is they who laugh the loudest.

***

The whole world stopped. I wished it remained that way because the instant time started up again, my utter humiliation was complete.

They'd all heard. How could anyone miss that one single word of utter denial? I found myself running to the large area where the school lockers were housed, hiding in the maze of yellow tin doors while the sound of laughter, either real or imagined, chased after me.

***

She can barely see the road ahead, not paying attention. Her horse, a smart old boy, knows enough to carry her safely while she mourns her broken heart.

The sound of pounding hooves approaching barely breaks through. But the young squire, face panicked and out of breath, finally does the trick.

“His Highness!” The boy pants. “He begs you, warrioress, to return and save him from the dragon.” His eyes rise to the sky. “Shortly after you left, it swooped down and kidnapped our Prince, taking him away from us. His final words were to call for you!”

Her tears stop instantly. He needs her! He does love her after all.

Heart renewed, she spins her faithful steed and goes in search of the dragon.

***

I ran from my friends, how I'd been used by those girls, duped for no reason but their own amusement. Cruelty wasn't a common experience for me, relegated to antagonists in books and movies. The sting was sharp, the cut deep and all I could do was flee.

But he, he had nothing to do with it. He would come find me, talk to me. Apologize. Make those girls apologize. And everything would be okay.

It would. And he would finally see me for who I was.

***

The warrioress rides into the clearing, finding the Prince alone, trapped inside a cage of bone and chain.

“Come!” He calls out. “Save your Prince and you may have whatever your heart desires.”

“I want you to love me.” All of her hope and need well up at the sight of him. “To marry me and make me your Princess.”

What is the look on his face, in his eyes? It is gone as quickly as it appeared and he is smiling at her, though his perfect teeth aren’t showing and he seems to be in some kind of discomfort. The dragon must have hurt him.

“Of course,” he says. “Anything you wish. Just free me and slay that dragon!”

“I will save you, my love.” She jumps down from her horse as a great wind buffets her, knocking her back ward. The dragon swoops down, two sobbing women in his claws, the back sweep of his wings creating a powerful gale.

“Save us!” She knows the ladies, the very same two who engineered her humiliation. “Please, we beg you!”

“Well now,” the dragon says in a voice like rolling thunder. “Who are you really here to save?”

***

I found my locker, pretended to focus on the contents, not wanting anyone to see me, to look at me, wishing I was tiny enough to climb inside the tin can and close the door behind me.

All the while I hoped he'd followed, that he would find me and rescue me.

To my shock and growing amazement, he appeared at the end of the row, for the first time since we'd met really looking at me, focused on me, not trying to ignore or avoid me.

This was it. He held my heart in his hands.

And with a few words, shattered it into a million pieces. Words like ‘never’ and ‘weirdo’ and ‘gross’. Hurtful, harmful, dangerous words to say to someone. Especially to someone like me.

While my entire being rang with what he'd said, he stormed off like it was all my fault in his prissy boy fit because some girl had the nerve to love his arrogant ass while the shards of what had been my adoration sharpened into razor edges.

***

“I must kill you,” she says to the towering dragon, two thin columns of smoke drifting from his nostrils. “The Prince has said he will marry me, love me, if I free him and slay you.”

The dragon nods slowly, settling to the ground, the two ladies still clutched in his claws. One golden eye comes level with the warrioress as the dragon speaks.

“I have heard you killed the giant,” he said, “and in doing so destroyed your own strength.”

She flinches. What had the giant said about the Prince's fear? Her love’s eyes are full of it even as the dragon goes on.

“And the gryphon,” the dragon goes on, “for his hide. But in that you have only shown your own loss of self-esteem and confidence. Where has the mighty warrioress gone?”

Again she twitches as though a blow has landed, her gaze falling on the former lady-like perfection of the two handmaidens and how ugly they now seem.

“You are now conscious of your lack,” the dragon says. “Though until now you were perfect exactly as you were.”

She can’t listen. She has to finish the beast so she can have her true love. But the dragon isn’t done.

“If you slay me,” he says, “and I won't stop you if that is the choice you make, you destroy the last part of your spirit to remain yours and yours alone. The final fragment of your power will be gone and you will have what you wish, in the end. You will be like him.” He gestures with his muzzle at the Prince. “And like these.” He shakes the two weeping women. “So, if that is what you choose, then act. But be prepared for the consequences.”

“Or?” The dragon speaks the truth.

“Or.” He chuffs out a little smoke, one eye winking, “go find the Prince who loves you for who you are.”

***

It still amazes me, how quickly my obsessive love turned to hate to the sound of a young heart breaking. I hated him so much from that moment on I didn't look back. It was as if he never existed, the fantasies I'd created around him lost, gone forever without a trace.

So odd. I never thought of him again, not that way, and even the hate I felt dissipated quickly, gone like smoke in a breeze. In fact, I found out years later he moved before we finished high school and I never knew.

Or cared.

But the moment. That went on and on, defining me in my eyes and how I felt about myself. Not good enough, ugly, gross, always doing the wrong thing, saying the inappropriate, wearing the wrong clothes…

I was no longer a teen when I found out none of what I believed really mattered, that I actually was okay being me. How the social awkwardness came from trying to fit in and when I stopped, it stopped. Or became endearing to those who really loved me.

I don't blame nameless for any of this. We were kids and, in fact, I thank him in a way for the years of struggle to come after. Because of his rejection I gave up on my need to be one of the cool kind and accepted the fact I could never be. I honed my creativity and lost myself in books and writing again.

It took a while, but I gave up on princes, am seeking a King worthy of me. And I love how my life turned out, knowing now being me was the very best gift anyone could every give me.

So thanks, nameless. No hard feelings. No resentment. No turning you into a character in a book just to kill you off so I feel better.

Promise.

***

Her horse seems eager again to move on as she finds herself smiling at what the future might bring.

Behind her, screams fading in the distance, the dragon enjoys his very tasty meal.