Daruma

       Hubert's life was not fair.

       It hadn't always been that way. As the second son of a well loved king, his life was generally pretty good, as he reaped all the benefits of being royalty, without being expected to take on any of the responsibility. His brother, Florean, was first in line for the throne. He was handsome, talented at nearly everything he tried, and to top it all off, he was a general in his father's army. All of this meant that Hubert was constantly overlooked in favor of his perfect brother. Hubert didn't care, or at least he made himself believe this. Living in Florean's shadow suited him just fine. About the only thing Hubert was better at than Florean was mathematics, and almost no one found this to be as impressive as the ability to chop off a dragon's head. As far as Hubert knew, he'd either end up being a diplomat, or he'd end up as the equivalent of his brother's accountant. Both of these options were just fine with him, as neither of them seemed particularly difficult. (While he wasn't the best diplomat, he was far from the worst, and mathematics had always come easily to him anyway.) All in all, he had once foreseen a very good future for himself.

       That all changed six months ago, when Florean died.

       It had happened quite suddenly, as Florean had a perfect record when it came to battles, even when it came to the toughest of dragons. He had gone out to settle what seemed to be a small dispute over some territory in the northern part of the kingdom. He had only taken a token force with him, as informants had said it was only a small band terrorizing a check point near the border. He had marched right into battle expecting this to be a rather short fight. So it had taken everyone by surprise when the bandits had turned out to have a rather powerful wizard with them. All of Florean's men were further surprised when that wizard swiftly made the first move by striking Florean down in one blow. He hadn't even had time to raise his sword. Demoralized, the rest of Florean's men grabbed his now dead body and fled back to the castle, leaving the wizard and his band in control of the checkpoint.

      They didn't have control of it for very long. Infuriated at the loss of his son, the King sent out at least half the army and his own wizards to crush the bandits and opposing wizard with extreme and unrelenting prejudice. The bandits never stood a chance, and the wizard only barely escaped with his life. With victory in hand, the army returned home to mourn the loss of the prince.

      Hubert had been just as stunned as everyone else. He had mourned with his father, and even cried a bit, when no one was looking. But he hadn't really thought about exactly what Florean's death meant for him, until just after the funeral. The King had called an official gathering of all the royal court, where he officially declared that Hubert was now next in line for the throne, and that his preparations for the position shall begin immediately. If Florean's death had left him shocked, it was nothing compared to this realization. Whether he liked it or not, he would soon, far to soon, be responsible for running this country and he didn't like that fact one bit. Neither, it seemed, did the rest of the country. He would hear people whispering when they thought he couldn't hear them about how much better a prospect Florean had been and how Hubert would never be able to compare.

      All the preparing he had had to do was starting to get to him. Being a prince, he had always had the best education, but nothing could have prepared him for all these crash courses in leadership, foreign policy, and what seemed like a dozen other subjects he hadn't even known Florean had been learning about. To make matters worse, his father had insisted he start practicing with the sword, something at which he had always been terrible and something he continued to be terrible at, despite all the practicing he had been doing. The icing on this cake though, was learning that he was now betrothed. He had never seriously thought about marriage, and when it passed through his mind he had figured he'd get to choose his own bride. But now with Florean out of the picture, the princess from the neighboring kingdom was now set to be Hubert's bride instead of Florean's.

      The princess was pretty enough, Hubert supposed. He had seen her once before, when he went with his father and Florean to the neighboring kingdom, to make negotiations for the marriage. The two were introduced, and the princess had been thrilled at the prospect of marrying the ever-so handsome Florean. The date of the wedding had been set, and the princess seemed like she could not have been happier. However when Hubert and the King had went back to re-negotiate the arrangements for the wedding to Hubert, the princess had seemed less than thrilled at the prospect of marrying the younger brother. Hubert would be the first to admit he wasn't exactly as handsome as his brother had been, but he didn't think he was so unattractive that he deserved all these disappointed looks and snide remarks he had been getting from her and her ladies in waiting.

      Finally, after a particularly exhausting lesson in swordsmanship, Hubert had had enough. He'd tried to escape from the castle, if only to have some freedom for a while, but his father had just managed to catch him, and forbade him from going outside without guards. He kept wheedling with his father that day, until finally the King relented but only under the condition that Hubert take no fewer than two guards with him. And so, Hubert had taken the two palace guards that he was closest to, Frederick and Alesander, and stormed out of the palace like a furious teenager who's parents had told him he couldn't have his way.

      "It's not fair!" Hubert shouted while slicing down random foliage with his sword, "Why does Father have to force all this on me? No one wants me as king, least of all me! It's not fair, it's not fair, IT'S NOT FAIR!"

      Frederick and Alesander were staying a nice respectable distance back, so as to avoid being sliced. They both knew Hubert well enough that they knew he just needed to scream himself out and he'd feel better and return willingly. At least that's what they hoped would happen this time.

      "Your father believes you can do it Milord, otherwise he would not be training you so diligently," Alesander soothed. He believed it was best to try mollify the young prince at this particular moment.

      "Don't you start with that Milord nonsense to!" screamed Hubert, rounding on his two guards. "Everywhere I turn it's Milord you need to do this, or Milord you need to learn that! I'm sick, sick, SICK OF IT!" He turned around sharply and continued slashing everything within reach of his sword, feeling no less angry than he had been when they had left the castle more than an hour ago.

      Frederick and Alesander just looked at each other and sighed. It seemed like Hubert was in a particularly horrible mood that day, so no amount of compliments would calm him down. Frederick decided to try a different approach. "Hubert, I know you don't want to be king. I can't blame you. But screaming about it will do you little good, so there is no point in trying to turn yourself into a mute."

      Hubert finally stopped next to a very large smooth stone, panting from all the screaming and flailing he had been doing. "Yes, yes I know," he said hoarsely, "Still doesn't mean I feel any better about all this. Damn it all, why does all this have to happen to me?" He stared down at the stone. It was grey, oval, and completely unremarkable. Hubert figured it must have rolled down from the mountains.

      Frederick and Alesander sighed in relief. They were both glad that Hubert had seemed to have lost interest in shouting loud enough to wake everyone in the kingdom, at any rate. "It is impossible to know why things happen to each of us as we journey through this life, M- Hubert," Alesander caught himself, if only just barely, "The best that we can do is accept what happens to us and make the best of our situation and move forward."

      Hubert took deep breaths as he calmed down slightly. Alesander was right, of course, but Hubert still didn't feel any better. "It isn't just that I don't want to be king..." Hubert said tiredly, "It's just that no one, not even Father, thinks that I can do it." He closed his eyes and hung his head. Oh how he wished he could just escape, and not have to think about being king.

      Frederick felt sorry for the young prince standing before him. Hubert had always had to endure being overlooked by nearly everyone around him, and now that the spotlight had been forced on him, no one really wanted to look at him. Frederick could not begin to imagine how overwhelming this was for the prince, but he had a feeling that Hubert would surprise everyone someday. Frederick took a step forward. "Perhaps you may just prove them wrong. But I'm thinking we should turn back now, for it is growing late, and your father would not want you out after dark."

      Hubert let out one last tremulous sigh as he lifted his head. He doubted Frederick was right, but he just wanted to lie down and sleep now. Even though it was at the palace, his bed seemed awful welcoming at the moment. He nodded his head and swung his sword arm back almost lazily, striking the stone in the process.

      The first thing he noticed was that he couldn't move his sword away from the stone. He tried to let go and found he couldn't move anything else either. All of a sudden every thing started getting very bright and he heard a strange humming noise. He only vaguely heard someone shouting his name before everything around him faded into the light.