[CW:Short Story/Feedback]The Prince of the Pit

[Shamitako]

The Prince of the Pit

A short story by Alexus Morgan Wallace

Once upon a time, in a land just out of reality’s reach, there lived a prince. No one knew this prince’s name, he was simply known as the Prince of the Pit. Nobody really knew why, because he didn’t live in a pit. In fact, it was quite the opposite, he lived in a tower. Nevertheless, this was all he was known as. The prince had one duty to his people, who lived in a town at the base of his tower, every day he would throw them a small packet of his blood, which they would in turn use as a sacrifice to their god. No one remembered why this was done; it had been like this for decades, with each prince giving his blood as a sacrifice. However, there was one who was not satisfied with just letting tradition continue, one who wanted to know why the prince gave his blood, why he was called the Prince of the Pit, and--most of all--what the prince’s true name was...

My name is Eleanor, Ellie for short, and on this hot summer day I turn thirteen. Today, I am no longer a girl but a woman. Today is terrible. Most of my friends can’t wait to turn thirteen, they all dream of who their parents might choose for them to marry, but not me. See, I never want to get married. Marriage means children and chores. But even worse, marriage means love. I hate love and whoever invented it, I never want to be in love, ever. I’m convinced I’m the only woman in the world who wants to adventure and learn. My grandmother calls me “curious” and says that back when she was my age, most everyone was curious. She says that people stopped being curious around the same time as we started having princes. I don’t understand it; I wonder why there aren’t more people who wonder why. Well today, I’m going to get my answers from the only person who might know the answers. Today I’m going to see the prince.

I’ve been to the blood throwing ceremony before, but never have I sat this close. The tower seems so tall, and there doesn’t seem to be any way up or down. I wonder how the prince got up there in the first place, and how to get up there myself. Suddenly, a cheer erupts from the crowd around me and a small white speck emerges from the window… And falls right into my lap. It must have been fate that ordained this miracle, I am overjoyed. I grab the packet of blood and shoot to my feet, holding it high.
“I caught it!” I exclaim to the crowd.
A small old man in a white robe pokes out of the crowd and holds his hand to me, the priest.
“Thank you young Eleanor, I’m sure our god will be all the more pleased that this blood has touched your fair hands.”
But I don’t give it to him. Whispers of surprise waft from the crowd, and a look of confusion spreads over the priest’s face.
“Eleanor, the blood?” He asks, putting some force behind his weathered old voice.
“I want to do it.” I say, “I want to make the sacrifice.”
The priest smiles, “It’s wonderful to see such enthusiasm from the young, alright then, you may do it.”
He leads me to the temple, a bewildered crowd following behind. I seem to have sparked their curiosity. We enter the temple, and the priest tells the crowd to wait outside. Then he locks the door, and turns to me.
“Well played, young one.” He says, his voice now crisp and youthful as any of the young bachelors of the village.
“What do you mean?” I ask, slightly frightened.
“You’ve managed to not only overcome my spell, but also caused an entire crowd to do so as well. I congratulate you on the strength of your will.” He says, “However, I will be needing my complacent village back. And you’re going to help me.”
“How and why would I help you?”
“Well, you want to stay alive, don’t you? If you help me, it will extend your life, otherwise you can die now.”
“That doesn’t tell me how though.”
“Don’t worry, you will understand soon enough. Come to the tower at midnight, or else.”
I nodded solemnly and left, barely managed to keep my calm around the crowd outside, who seemed to be back to their standard cheerfulness.

I don’t get any sleep, I just lay awake in bed waiting for midnight. When it finally comes, it's all I can do to make my legs move and carry me to the tower.
“Wonderful, you’ve arrived.” The priest says as I approach him.
“Yes, now please, can you tell me what you want from me?” I pleaded.
“Why darling, I want that foolish curiosity of yours.” He says, a sinister grin crossing his face.
“My, curiosity?”
“Surely you’ve noticed by now, how no one else seems to want to do anything new, how they’re content to simply continue living.”
“I have.”
“That is my doing. You see, every day the Prince of the Pit throws down a packet of blood which passes through the entire village and is then given to me. That blood allows me to manipulate the villagers, to take away their curiosity and make them do whatever I say.”
“Why would you do that?”
“Why? Because I can.” He chuckles.
“But then, what do you want with me?”
“The spell only works if the blood is from a sufficiently curious source, and the blood weakens over time. Eventually, someone with enough curiosity and will can break free of it; when they do, I collect them and use their blood to replace the old blood.”
“Wait, you mean you want me to become a prince?”
“Precisely.”
He waves his hand in some strangely mesmerizing pattern, and everything goes black.

I awake in a small, dark room with a single window. It has similar furnishings to my room at home, but it isn’t my room. In the bed there lies a young man; he tosses in his sleep as though tormented by nightmares. I gingerly walk up to him. He is pale and thin, his short blonde hair is dirty and unkempt. But most notably, his arms are covered in puncture wounds and scars. I realize now that he is the prince, and I gentle shake his arm to wake him. His sleep is not deep, he sits up and his eyes shoot open. He doesn’t seem startled, if anything he is relieved.
“Thank you fair maiden of my dreams, for you have saved me from my nightmares.” He says, “But alas, I know well this dream will soon fade into sorrow and fear as well.”
I stare at him a moment, finding myself shocked.
“Um, you’re not dreaming, I’m real.” I say, “And what’s with the fancy-talk?”
“Oh, um, that’s just how I keep myself from going crazy up here.” He says sheepishly, “I can do all kinds of voices. But I think the princely one is most fitting. Supposedly I’m a prince up here.”
“Right,” I say, still slightly bewildered, “so, prince, I had some question for you, but I think the priest answered most of them. How about we just go with ‘is there a way out of here?’”
“Now now,” he says condescendingly, “there is an order to these things. I mayn’t be a glorious prince, but I am still a prince, and I think that one as pretty as you ought to know my name before interrogating me. Which is to say, introductions are in order.”
I have to admit, I’m taken slightly aback by him calling me pretty. I always thought I was kind of ragged, I was generally covered in dirt and my red curls were constantly tangled in knots.
“Um, alright then.” I say, trying to keep my composure, “My name is Eleanor, it is nice to meet you.”
“Eleanor, a lovely name for a lovely girl.” He replies, “I am Prince Clarence of the Pit, I am honored young Eleanor.”
He takes my hand and kisses it. I can feel my cheeks turning color to match my hair.
“For the record, I turned thirteen today, I’m not a girl anymore.” I say indignantly, trying to him my embarrassment.
I feel quite certain that the red of my face can be seen clearly even in the dim light from the window.
“My apologies, I didn’t mean to offend you, Lady Eleanor. I myself am only in my sixteenth year, it’s hardly polite of me to assume you are much younger than I”
Even when he’s not trying to sound princely with his fancy words, he still manages to seem quite noble. I found it hard to believe he had once been a villager just like me.
“It shall be some time before I die, you should make yourself comfortable here.” He says, “I’d give you my bed, but I fear I am too sickly for the floor. So unless you don’t mind sharing…”
“No way.” I say quickly.
“Alright then, ‘twas just an offer.”

The days began to pass. The priest showed up once a week with just enough food for us to get by. At first I wondered if my family might look for me, but soon realized that without curiosity they would have no ability to wonder where I was. Days soon became weeks, and weeks became months. The weather turned chillier and Clarence sicklier. Several days I sent my blood down in his place so that he would not have to leave his bed. One day, it snowed so hard the window was almost completely covered and it took the both of us working together to make an opening for the blood packet. Eventually it became so cold outside that Clarence insisted we share the bed. I tried to keep saying no, but my teeth chattered so much I found it impossible to speak. And as much as I hate to admit it, it felt nice to have him wrap his arms around me to give me warmth. The winter faded away into spring and I insisted on returning to the floor. But I found that I still felt cold without him holding me. Finally, the spring faded into summer…

“Happy birthday Ellie!” Clarence says as cheerfully as he can muster.
“It’s my birthday?” I ask groggily, sitting up on my blanket.
“I kept careful track, today is your three-hundred-and-fifty-sixth day in the tower. You’re fourteen.”
He seems almost like he’s waiting for something, anticipating some event I don’t know about yet.
“Well, happy birthday to me.” I say, glancing at him suspiciously.
But nothing happens, the day goes on normally. Clarence draws his blood and tosses it for the villagers. We make a simple meal with our rations for the day. He reads to me from a book. But then, as the sun sets outside the window, that anxious looks passes over his face again.
“Eleanor,” He begins, “I don’t really have anything to get you for your birthday, and this might be a bit forward of me, but it’s the best I have for you.”
Without giving me a chance to react, his pulls my face to his and presses his lips against mine. Instinctively, I push him away. We’d talked about love before, and he very well knew my stance on it. And yet, the kiss felt so tender, so perfect.
“I’m sorry.” He said, and began to stand.
But I grab his shoulder and stop him. I had been so annoyed with the other girls in the village, how they gushed about love and men. I had assumed romance was another thing like the blood tossing or working in the fields. Something people did just because they had always done it. But living in this tower with Clarence, I have begun to wonder if maybe love was more than that. If they had gushed not because they didn’t know better, but because they were actually, truly happy. I still feel strongly that their lack of curiosity was a tragedy. But maybe there are some things not even the priest can control. The answer is impossible for me to sort out just by thinking. So I stop thinking, and I kiss Clarence.

Not much changed after that. I began sharing Clarence’s bed once more. But beyond that the days went by normally. He never kissed me again. Days soon became weeks, weeks became months. The weather turned chillier and Clarence sicklier. One day in the dead of winter I awoke not to the warmth of his embrace, but to a cold, limp arm draped over my body. When the Priest brought me food that week, he took Clarence’s body away. It then became my duty to pour my blood out to help that wicked old man keep his spell over the village.

The priest hasn’t come to give me food this week, I have none left. I hope he died, I hope that the villagers are finally free. Still, I throw them my blood. I am seventeen now, I’ve been the Prince of the Pit for four years and alone for two. I finally figured out why I’m called the Prince of the Pit. It has nothing to do with where I live or what I rule. I am the Prince of the Pit, because that is what my heart has become. It’s so cold outside and I’m so hungry. But at least now I’ll finally get to see Clarence again. I’ll get to tell him what I wouldn’t admit before.

“I love you, Prince Clarence, I love you.” I whisper as I close my eyes for what is certain to be the very last time.