The Sad Prince

The young prince walked down the courtyard, laughing as he walked with a friend of his out toward the palace gates. He was off to meet a few of his friends down in the city, and the day couldn't have been better for the boy. His father, the pharaoh, had given him permission to play with his friends for the first time since his spat. He never meant to make a fuss, he always showed the deepest remorse for his actions, but he could never quite control his temper. That, however, was long in the past. For an entire moon, he waited to play again with his friends, dutifully studying for his father in the art of leadership. One day, he hoped, he would be emperor, and he would be able to lead his people, and most importantly, his friends. In the city below, the people greeted him with joy, smiling and wishing well for the child as he walked out to the outskirts of the city. For hours he played with his friends in the heat of the desert sun and in the cool of the spring that fed the city with its water. He couldn't remember the last time he had as much fun as that day. With the sun nearing its nadir, he bade his friends well as he returned to the palace. Walking up the main street, however, he was troubled by the sights he saw. People were scampering about as though something bad had happened. When the sun had finally set, he was able to see an unearthly glow up within the palace. Worried, he began running towards his home. Upon reaching the gates, he became mortified at what he witnessed: the guards, with their golden armor and their long spears, had been murdered at the gate. The gate itself was in shambles, its wrought metal frame twisted and mangled as though a massive force had tore through it. In the center of the courtyard, however, lay a sight he could not accept. There, in a pool of blood, lay his best friend, her body broken by some unspeakable evil. Despair washed over him as he held her frail body in his arms when he noticed the wrecked door that lead into the palace. Terrified of what awaited him beyond the threshold, he slowly walked inside. In the distance, the clanging of metal rang through the halls. He stopped in his tracks as he heard a monstrous sound shake the entire palace. Slowed by terror, but led by curiosity, he walked down the halls in the direction of the noise. He stepped, mortified, over pool after pool of blood that had no body connected to them. The young prince's face was blotched with tears by the time he reached the main hall, where he saw a sight that made him quiver in disbelief. A massive creature was bearing down on a group of soldiers that were protecting his mother and father, and a shaman stood behind the creature, as though he were directing it. Unable to do anything, he watched helplessly as the guards were torn apart, and his parents were devoured by the monster. Crying out loud at the sight of his parents being viciously killed, he felt something swell up inside of him. An ancient power, handed down through his bloodline, coursed through his body. Rage consumed him, and his temper began to boil. In an explosion of raw power, he brought down his wrath upon the massive creature, slaughtering it with blow after blow. The shaman, frightened by the boy's display, began to run. The prince, however, was not sated, and he reached out with a tendril of magic, and held the man there. He walked up to the man, and when he reached him, he became even more incensed, seeing the face of one of his father's court magicians. He brutally killed the man, and threw him out the window. His rage, however, only increased. As he looked around, he saw a group of soldiers cowering in the corner. Thinking to himself, They sat there and cowered as their pharaoh was murdered, as my parents were murdered. They shall pay the price of their cowardice. With one fell swoop, he killed the guards, and he lost consciousness. He awoke to the sound of crying. Looking up, the sun blinding him, he realized he had gotten outside, and that he was sitting in a pool of blood. Looking around, he saw the terrible deed he had committed. In his rage, he had accused his friends of keeping him from his palace, and he took his vengeance upon them. All 11 of them lie in a pool of blood around him. His remorse could not be consoled. The people on the street began condemning him, hating him. He cried for his friends, he cried for his family, and he cried for the loss of the love of his people. He allowed them to drag him to the palace, inconsolable in his misery. He didn't raise an eye as he was condemned for his action, nor did he object to his punishment. He cried every second in self hatred as his sarcophagus was laid in front of him, and the people wrapped him in cloth. And when sarcophagus was locked from the outside, he continued to weep. A curse was laid upon them, and he was left in a tomb to die, and to regret eternally. His crime was the killing of his friends, and so his punishment would be that he would never be able to have any more. He would be forever alone, weeping, the sad little mummy boy: Amumu.