The Lost Prince of Shōri

In the far away Kingdom of Shōri, two kings rule with love in their hearts and strength in their souls. King Victor Nikiforov and King Yuuri Katsuki have ruled their kingdom fairly and justly for ten years. They are are adored by all and their kingdom flourishes under their rule. However, no rulers are perfect. Early in their rule, Victor and Yuuri had a falling out with their only son, Yuri Plisetsky. The story goes that Yuri became so upset with his parents that he did everything he could to rebel against them. The last straw for Kings Victor and Yuuri was when Yuri employed a witch to turn him into a wood nymph. The kings forbade their son from leaving the castle, but Yuri escaped to the forest and disappeared. Distraught, the Kings sent out search parties to find their son, but all returned empty handed. Eventually, the search parties dwindled from once a day to once a week, then once a month, once a year. Now, search parties are only sent out when the Kings order it, which is not very often. Sometimes, people brave the thick woods to look for the lost prince, hoping that they will be rewarded generously if they happen to stumble across him while they cut through the underbrush. But, he is never found, and eventually Yuri Plisetsky, the Lost Prince of Shōri, falls into myth and legend. Until a knight astride a black horse arrives in Shōri: Sir Otabek Altin of Kazakh.

This is the story of the lost prince.

-o0o0o-

Otabek Altin was very tired. He had been riding for days on end with no change in scenery, he had no servants brought with him on his long journey (he had insisted that he could go by himself), and he was running out of food. His stomach growled hungrily as the thought of the half loaf of bread and small hunk of cheese in his knapsack. He cleared the thought out of his mind, knowing that he had to save it for later so he wouldn’t starve. Slowing Vasily, his horse, down to a trot, he glanced about for any landmarks. Trees, trees, and nothing but trees. Otabek was growing tired of all of the trees. He was starting to miss Kazakh, which had far more mountains and grassy plains than trees. Otabek cast his gaze to the sky, looking for smoke or anything that would hint of civilization- there! Chimney smoke snaked into the sky, off to Otabek’s left side. Sighing with relief, Otabek turned Vasily towards the smoke and began to trot. After five minutes, Otabek found himself in a small clearing, with a house. Otabek was surprised- he expected a camp of people or a wildfire, but not a cottage in the middle of the thick woods. "Whoever lives in that cottage must be a hermit, I could be disturbing them," Otabek thought. He noticed a stump jutting out of the ground a couple of yards away from the front of the house. He dismounted, knotted his reins around the stump, patted Vasily once, then approached the cottage with some caution. He knocked twice, very softly.

Otabek jumped back when a torrent of barking ripped through the silence, followed by what sounded like a young man ordering “Down, Gongjag! Down boy!” There was silence for a moment, the the door opened. It was a young man, with medium-length black hair and a resting frown tugging at his face. The man had a rather fluffy Siberian Husky by the collar. He let the dog go and it bounded outside, sniffing around between Otabek and Vasily, who was unperturbed by the dog’s presence and was eating grass.

“I’m sorry to disturb you sir,” said Otabek, “but I am afraid that I need some directions. My name is Otabek Altin, I’m a knight from the Kingdom of Kazakh with a message for Kings Victor and Yuuri.”

The young man just stared at Otabek. Otabek reviewed the introduction in his head, worried if he had said something offensive. Did he overshare? He had only just met this person and had already told him- four important things about himself, Otabek counted silently. The man hadn’t even told Otabek his name yet-

“Seung-Gil,” the young man said, as if he could read Otabek’s thoughts. “You better come inside for a minute.”

-o0o0o-

Otabek was perched on the edge of a large leather chair draped with animal fur, grateful for the warmth of the small fire flickering in the grate. The man- Seung-Gil, that is, stood on the other side of the fire, preparing a tea kettle for his guest. It was clear that Otabek’s host did not care for small talk, so Otabek looked around the cozy room. The room wasn’t cluttered, but it was certainly full- One or two bookshelves were leaned against the far wall, filled with an assortment of books. The mantelpiece was dotted with small trinkets, like small statuettes, a brush that was coated in dog hair, an animal skull. An array of different pieces of artwork were hung in between the shelves, the leather chair, and the mantelpiece. One in particular caught his eye.

The painting was small, but close enough to Otabek that he could see it easily. It was a slim, slight figure, angled in such a position that dappled sunlight the artist had cascaded from the trees lining the top of the painting shone down onto the person’s face and into their eyes. The figure had shimmering blonde hair ending just above their shoulders, and their pale face shone in contrast with the different shades of green cast in the background. But the one thing that caught Otabek’s attention was the expression on the fairy’s face- it must be a fairy, Otabek reasoned, no human could express such ethereal beauty. It was the face that caused Otabek’s gaze to sharpen and for him to lean back slightly in the leather chair. The fairy was staring straight at him, and frowning. Their lips were pulled into a defiant pout and the the glittering blue-green eyes glared out from the frame gazing at him in disapproval as if they were saying to Otabek, how dare you look at me like this. Don’t you have something else to stare at, asshole?

Otabek thought it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen and would have stared at the painting longer if Seung-Gil hadn’t pressed a steaming cup of tea into his hand. Otabek thanked Seung-Gil and sipped the brew silently as he cast his gaze back to the painting. Looking at the stunning figure a second time, Otabek noticed that the figure was wearing royal garments in the colors of the Kingdom of Shōri. That made Otabek wonder a bit more about who this person was- if they were of the royal family, why had he never heard mention of a relative to the Kings?

“I don’t get a lot of visitors out here.” Seung-Gil stated matter-of-factly. Otabek turned around, facing Seung-Gil as he spoke. “Not a lot of people coming from the south anymore. All of the main roads come into the kingdom from the east or west.”

“I see. I suppose that’s why I was sent instead of a messenger or a representative.” Otabek reflected, placing his finished cup of tea on a small side table and folding his hands politely in his lap. Seung-Gil nodded once and, taking a sip of his tea, began to lower himself to the floor in front of the fire.

“Ah, sorry,” Otabek said quickly, starting to stand up. “I took your chair-”

“‘S fine,” Seung-Gil said, leaning against the wall. “I don’t mind sitting on the floor.”

Otabek relaxed in the chair again. He wondered if Seung-Gil said everything with a flat voice and a straight face. Then, Otabek heard a small scuffling of feet approaching, and the Siberian Husky trotted into the room and padded to Seung-Gil, settling down in the young man’s lap. Seung-Gil patted the dog’s thick fur, lapsing into silence once more. The two men sat in silence for a while, each lost in thought. Then, Seung-Gil said “You need directions to the castle?”

“Excuse me?”

“Katsu castle. You said you needed directions?”

“Oh. Yes, I do.” Otabek said. “Am I close to the castle?”

“You have about six miles to go. Northeast.”

Otabek’s shoulders dropped a little when he heard this. The sun would be setting soon, and he was already pretty tired. The tea, fire and blankets weren’t helping either. He sighed.

“There’s an inn about halfway to the castle.” Seung-Gil said, catching the sigh. “I would let you stay here, but I only have one bed and no extra mattresses.”

“No, no, that’s fine.” Otabek said, shaking his head. “I don’t expect you to accommodate me when we just met an hour ago. I’ll go to the inn.”

Seung-Gil nodded, getting Gongjag off of him and standing up to shake Otabek’s hand. Otabek nodded and crossed the room, turning the knob of the front door. Then his stomach growled, reminding him of how hungry he was. He turned back to Seung-Gil. “I’m sorry to ask, but could you spare something from your kitchen? I’m running short from supplies.”

“The inn sells food and drink, but I’m sure I can spare something.” the other man said, after a short pause. He headed to the kitchen in the back of the cottage, leaving Otabek to finally turn his attention back to the portrait of the fairy. He didn’t notice when Seung-Gil returned until the man spoke.

“You’ve been staring at that painting a lot since you came in here.”Seung-Gil said to Otabek, who turned towards him a little faster than he had meant to. “Who is that person?” Otabek asked “I’ve never seen them before, but they are wearing royal robes.”

“That’s the Lost Prince of Shōri,” Seung-Gil said. “Yuri Plisetsky. He’s something of a legend.”

“Prince?” Otabek echoed.

“Yeah. He was Victor and Yuuri’s son. He ran away in the first year of their rule and disappeared into the woods. No one has seen him since.”

Otabek was- surprised, to say the least. He wanted to ask Seung-Gil a million questions about Yuri Plisetsky, but he knew that his host wouldn’t take kindly to being barraged with tons of queries he probably wouldn’t be able to answer anyway. Instead, he took the wrapped package of food Seung-Gil handed out to him and thanked him, before heading out the door.

Otabek crossed the yard to Vasily, and freed the reins off of the stump. He tucked the food Seung-Gil had given him into his knapsack and mounted his horse. Nodding his farewell to Seung-Gil, Otabek gave Vasily a kick and set her on the path at a brisk trot. Otabek heard the door to Seung-Gil’s cottage shut behind him.

-o0o0o-

The next three miles were a blur to Otabek. He struggled to stay focused, and ended up eating the bread and cheese from his knapsack. Otabek was about to fall asleep on top of his horse until a warm light cut through the darkness of the forest. Otabek hadn’t realized the sun had set. Bleariy, Otabek read the sign: Two Thumbs Up Inn. Raising his eyebrows at the cheesiness of it, Otabek dismounted and led Vasily towards the front door, where he knocked on the door. After a moment, a young woman with dark skin and purple eyes opened the door, smiling at him. “Hello sir,” the woman said. “Come on in. I’ll take your horse to the stables. What’s her name?”

“Vasily.” Otabek said with tired pride. “It means ‘Basil’ in Russian. My little sister named her.”

The woman smiled and said “What a beautiful name. C’mon girl, do you want some food? We're going to get you to a nice barn with lots of hay…”

The ghost of a smile passed over Otabek’s face as he walked into the inn. He was greeted with low chatter of several people nursing beers and talking. A roaring fire warmed the whole room. Otabek saw another young woman, pale with red hair, standing behind the bar. She smiled at him and walked over to Otabek. “Hi! I’m Mila. Nice to meet you. Would you like some food, a beer?”

“No, thank you,” Otabek declined politely. “I’d like to pay for a room.”

“Will it be just one night?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Mila’s short laugh caught Otabek off guard. “Ma’am! Ma’am! Sala, did you hear that? He called me ma’am…”

Sala grinned at Mila while she laughed, then held out her hand. “30, please.”

Otabek reached into his pocket and handed over several silver coins. Sala counted the money in her palm and then crooked her head towards a staircase in the back of the room. Follow me.”

Sala led Otabek to his room, a cozy space with a dresser and a feather mattress with extra blankets. “Bathrooms are down the hall.” Sala said, pressing a small colored piece of wood into Otabek’s hand. “Your room key. Don’t lose it.” Sala smiled and Otabek nodded, tucking the token into his trouser pocket. “Anything I can get you, sir?” She said, teasing him gently about earlier. Otabek’s face softened, and he shook his head. “No, thank you.”

“Enjoy your stay!” Sala called, shutting the door behind her.

-o0o0o-

Despite how much his body ached for sleep, Otabek couldn’t sleep. His mind kept subconsciously going back to the painting. There was something about it that was different from any other painting that Otabek had ever seen. It was the expression on the face. Yuri Plisetsky, Otabek realized, had the unforgettable eyes of a soldier.