for me again when you’ve found the treasure. It holds an important weapon, you know. I could
bring us our future, our success.’ He said, sneering at me with the usual arrogant look.
‘People are fighting over crumbs! Animals are killing and eating one another! And all you
care about is the treasure! When do you think would be the best time to put a stop in your
pointless attempts to seek vengeance? ’ Provoked by the prince’s attitude I dropped all my
respects for this prince, dropping my sympathy for his lost as well. ‘Why do you need that thing
so desperately? I know its war and bloodshed that you seek, but none of your men can fight in
that state. Let alone winning one for you! When would you face the reality? Your family’s gone!
Killing a million other tribes won’t bring them back!’
His glare darkened as he lifted his head, drawing in a deep breath through his gritted teeth
and spoke in a dark, grave tone ‘Do not come around and start babbling in my face, have you
ever been through that? They murdered my family! The pride of our great tribe of the Khara-hot,
descendents of the great warrior, Khara Baatar, is being disregarded! The tribe’s pride is on my
hands. My ancestors’ blood is on my hands. How could I not force my people to fight! If you’re
that smart and that forgiving, then tell me what you could possibly do! Sit around and let my
bloodline wither and disappear in my time?’ He rose to his feet as he bellowed. I could see a faint
tint of hurt and desertion flickering in his dark brown eyes. For a split second I felt sorry for
him. All I could see was a kid, forcing himself to grow and be strong, forcing himself to take up
burdens that suddenly fell upon him. He forced himself on the wrong path, a path where blood
scattered along.
‘I have nothing to do with you anymore. I’ll gather my troops by the morrow. Gather your
stuff and leave after dawn.’ He diverted his eyes from me and ambled over to the window sill,
pulled down the drapes and stared out into the emptiness.
I made my way out of the palace and wandered among the deserted streets, finding a place to
sleep. I slept dreaming what it’s used to be when Khara-hot was prosperous. It must be full of busy
merchants bustling here and there trying to trade silk and other goods on their caravans while
letting their tired rides rest.
I sat at the top of a battered tower, shading myself from the fiery sun. The sight of the young
prince strutting down the road startled me. I could see people emerging from their hiding place
and slowly gathered around the prince at my current position. I looked on, only to see angry
peasants waving their fists and shouting insults at the prince. They inched their way forward,
crowding him. One of the peasants made a move and attacked the prince. As if someone pulled
the trigger, the rest of the hungry peasants followed and charged. Waves of angry punches rained
down hard on the victim. I squinted at the sight of that but could do nothing other than wait.
All of a sudden, the violence stopped. The crowd backed off. There was the boy, the boy whom I
spoke to yesterday, shadowing the prince, taking in all the punches and pain inflicted by the mob.
The boy fell like an old rag as the crowd backed off. He was covered in bruises, blue and purple
splotched all over his slender frame. It was horrible.
‘Why…’ the prince breathed as he reached for the boy and cradled him in his arms.
‘cough…fighting…can’t solve problems…can’t they…cough…’ the boy looked into the prince
eyes and tried his best to smile without cringing from the pain. Mouthfuls of blood were coughed
up, dark red liquid trickles down his neck as he tried to speak. ’My…lo…rd…my...parents…died
when…I…un..der…stand…’He smiled as life slowly ebbed from his eyes. The prince laid the boy
on the dusty road and covered his cold body with his cloak with his trembling hands. He rubbed
