How It All Started

Prince Raphael stood calmly by the window that overlooked the palace garden. His dark blue eyes gazed on meaningfully, chin slightly raised in an appraising look. Standing with an air of authority that one couldn't capture with a single stroke of the brush, suit draped on shoulders even though he wasn't really wearing it and hands in his pockets, he would have been mistaken for the perfect fairy tale prince except for the rolled up sleeves of his collar top which he failed to tuck in. The view was as magnificent as always. He might have even waved to Rupert the gardener. Taking a break from the palace had proved to be better than he had expected. His father_the king, had built a smaller palace in the West of Baxtaville and insisted that the family spent some time there. Not that he had been against it but the truth was he hadn't necessarily looked forward to it. But truly, he wouldn't admit it out loud but that was the best idea his father had ever come up with. Wait, that wasn't what he was thinking about now. At this time, his mind was brainstorming on how he would avoid the king. All the lectures, he hated them all! And when his tutor Sir Williams Hugh went down with a suddenly fever that he had absolutely nothing to do with, his father had decided that he would tutor him till Sir Williams recovered. Truly, that had been one of his most successful tricks. Everyone had presumed it was due to the sudden change in the weather. It felt good until the king had suggested that. And to Ralphael, that was not his best idea of a father-son relationship. A knock was heard from the door. The prince sighed and turned around.

"Proceed." He said in his most authoritative baritone voice that he used whenever he was addressing any of the lower-ranked in the kingdom.

The door opened and a guard walked in and bowed.

"My father wants me." Prince Raphael said in a tone that hinted it was neither a statement nor a question but perhaps in between.

"Um...in twenty minutes Young Master." The guard said not quite sure if he should have replied.

"Tsk tsk," Raphael clicked his tongue in somewhat annoyance. To think his father ordered for him like he did mere servants.

"Anything else?" He asked fiddling with some of the items on his table.

"No, nothing...I'll be taking my leave now." The guard said with another bow.

The prince nodded absently. Looking up slowly.

"Hey," He called walking towards the guard who turned back.

"Is the dueling ring open for a fight?"

The guard smiled. Finally the prince decided to be friendly. All the guards knew him quite well to be one for the ring. When he was younger, he always ran around challenging people whenever he learnt something new.

"Only young Frenzel is there." He said with a little smirk.

The prince seemed to have seen the smirk anyway. "Arrogant!" He put his hand behind him and tilted his head towards the sun assuming a strong air of superiority.

"Tell Frenzel, that he just met his match."

The guard nodded and left looking a bit excited.

Frenzel was the commander's son, a few years older than the prince. And out of the eleven duels they had together, the prince had a history of four failures and five draws. But even the two times he had won, that was only because Frenzel had his mind occupied with something else. His fighting skills paled far in comparison to that of the commander's son but that didn't stop him from constantly challenging him whenever he had the chance. The prince made his way to the training grounds prepared for another round of defeat.

True enough, there was Frenzel although he seemed to be a little preoccupied. He was in the middle of the ring which was filled with big boxes of weapons that were stacked on each other. The commander's son had his right hand on his chin, eyebrows knit in concentration and with his left hand, he seemed to be making some mental calculations on the air while occasionally shaking off the the straight bangs that fell over his eyes.

"You have company." Prince Raphael announced himself having managed to get behind Frenzel without being noticed.

Frenzel whirled taking some steps back, looking wild and his hands instinctively went to his sword hilt. Then he straightened looking slightly annoyed.

"Oh...just you."

Raphael gave a mock bow in return.

"What are you up to?" Frenzel asked. Though he looked a bit frustrated with himself for reacting that fast.

"I think you already know. But I could ask you the same thing." Raphael said. He placed a freshly polished black boot on one of the rows of boxes and threw Frenzel a questioning glance. Frenzel smiled weakly and walked in a circle around the prince, putting his hands behind him just for the effect.

"Those boxes recently came in. They're the most deadly weapons you ever saw and no, you would not be using them for training purposes!" He added quickly seeing the look on the Prince's face.

"I have to arrange them into that shelf over there," he continued pointing. "Or at least get them out of the ring. I don't know which fool dumped them here so I have to get it out myself." Then he stopped behind the prince and leaned towards him.

"I could use a bit of help," he whispered with a slight grin.

"Certainly not!" The prince walked away from him and took a step into another of the dueling ring.

"I came here to challenge you." He declared.

"So you're the match that Dean was talking about." Frenzel clicked his tongue looking a bit disappointed. He dipped his hands in his pockets and was about to turn away when suddenly, he thought of something, a small smile playing on his lips.

"A bet then." He smirked. "When I win, you'll help me."

Raphael's mouth twitched. What a one-sided bet!

"And if I win?" He asked.

"Oh, but you won't win." Frenzel said simply.

Raphael glared at him. The commander's son was one of the few people who spoke carelessly to the prince and got away with it. They were close friends since they were young until Frenzel had to awaken to his duties as the Commander's son and eventually became the youngest knight of Baxtaville .

Frenzel sighed. "Alright fine, if you win I'll offer some pointers."

Raphael shook his head. Did this punk even know what he was saying? By then won't he have already won? he won't need pointers anymore! He went to the weapon rack and picked a spear. Then turned towards the ring only to find Frenzel beside him who traded his sword for a shield.

"I think this would be enough to defeat you." He said examining it with a provocative smile on his lips.

"The nerve!" The prince glared. "Let's begin then!"

A few hours ago, at the coast boarders of the kingdom, an area dense with mist, a motor boat whizzed through the river, carefully picking it's way through the sharp jutting rocks with such expertise like one very familiar with the coast. Despite all the mist, it landed successfully on the shore. A black pair of wellington boots landed softly on the sand as a man stepped out of the motor boat and whistled a kind of code into the air. His red hair was wind swept and his eyes were hid behind dark shades. He wore a black face mask and a scar ran down his neck partly covered by a high collared dark blue fennel jacket. The sun wasn't shinning but the awlful lot of gold chains on his neck glinted, and his gold watch and other expensive jeweleries seemed to sparkle in the mist. His black jean trousers matched perfectly with the conspicuous outfit. He strolled calmly with his hands in his pocket with an aura of a mafia like superiority, and he looked just like the kind of person who would have a bomb hidden in his jacket. Another man appeared out of the blues behind him. He was taller than the former and was dressed slightly more cooperate, save his blonde hair that was subject to the wind.

"Fox," He breathed in a deep voice. "so you come now?"

"I was at the other end of the world. You don't expect to teleport here just because that's what you want." The man addressed as Fox replied in a flippant manner, not even bothering to turn back but instead taking a few steps forward, hands still in pocket.

"Cut the sarcasm. You let it get into the palace. You have failed. And he said you were capable." He replied anger visible on his face.

"I do not fail." Fox replied nonchalantly. Then he turned back taking the other man into view for the first time. "I don't know how you see it but everything is happening according to plan. You have nothing to fear. I shall rip apart anyone who dares to stand in my way, until the job is done. After all," he said gazing into the distance. "My last name is The ripper." He finished with a cruel smile, a note of threat in his voice.

"Assure me of this. I'm the one taking the risks. I'll be in serious danger if I'm caught." The tall man said stiffly.

Fox let out a light chuckle as he walked back towards his motor boat, kicking up the sand as he went and stopping just beside him.

"Won't we all be?" He whispered. "I have orders from my superior to move slowly. I have some matters in the city to attend to. And now that I'm here, rest assured the job will be finished, with no regards to whoever dares come in our way. That, of course, assuming you played your part well." He smiled thinly opening his hand.

The man grunted and placed a parcel into his open palm. Fox stored them away in his jacket and nodded.

"You're not as useless as I thought. Now if you're smart, you'll lie low and make sure no one sees a dicky bird."

The other man glared. A moment ago, he felt sure that he had been the one calling all the shots. How then had their roles been switched?

"This is why I detest working with fellows like you!" He muttered angrily.

Back in the palace grounds.

The prince was really starting to rethink his choice of clothes. Not that they affected his performance but it was rather comforting to find something to blame. And truly, a simple jeans and Tee would be by far preferred. His hair which was formally in a pony tail (despite all the queen's protests) had come loose, giving him a slightly more rebel look. His blue eyes glinted as he parred strike after strike of Frenzel's shield. Which was extremely difficult since he had somehow, already been disarmed. Finally, Frenzel got him pinned on the ground, the sharp edge of the shield that Raphael had grown to fear hovering inches from his neck. Frenzel put down his shield and helped the prince up. Then he retrieved the spear which had found its way out of the ring and put it back on the weapons rack.

"Not bad," he said as joined the prince who was leaning against a tree looking a bit irritated.

"I used to last more than that." Prince Raphael muttered unbuttoning the first few buttons of his long sleeve, while steading his breathing.

"Well, that's your best this week, five minutes and twenty seven secs." Frenzel added. "Plus, I warned you to up on your training but what was it you said again...ah yes! That you were attending to state matters." He said with air quotes.

"You wanted me to train in the middle of the night!" Raphael defended.

"Oh well, It's not like you were ever going to beat me anyway." Frenzel grinned.

The prince let out an annoyed sound.

"I'll be going now!" He said standing up straight.

"Objection your highness!" Frenzel exclaimed thoroughly enjoying himself.

Raphael followed his gaze to the huge stacks of boxes in the other ring.

"A bet is a bet."

"Curse you, son of Lionel!"