Everything was engulfed by darkness as he awoke from his slumber. The walls and the ceiling of the room were nothing but purplish-black it didn’t help that the lighting was so poor. The light was coming from a lamp on the ceiling, and it desperately needed a light bulb replacement. He bent up on his bed to get a better look at the interior of the room. Two plants, two cabinets, and a painting were the only things that were possible to see with such a dim lighting. There may have been something on the other side of the room, but it was too dark to tell.
The painting was what struck his eye. It was so beautifully painted, almost looking life like. From his bed, the only details he could make out of the painting were a man, a woman, maybe his wife, and two children. Nothing more could be seen from the such a distance away. He began to get out of bed to see what else the painting showed. He put feet on the ground, still made from the same materials as the wall, making a stone-like noise waling over. But it didn’t matter; he was the only one in the room, so it couldn’t disturb anyone else. Wait; was anyone else in the room? How did he get down here? His mind was foggy, unsure of why though.
Inspecting the painting a bit more close up, he could see that the family was a bit more intriguing than previously thought. The man was obviously no ordinary person, and nether was his “wife.” Both sported golden crowns with assorted gems wedged into them. The man wore a nice red overcoat and sported a blonde beard, while his “wife” dawned a green robe and had flowing brown hair. The two boys, though, gave off a…odd feeling: blonde hair for one and light brown hair on the other. Both wore blue overcoats and red jeans, both with their own crowns. Déjà vu much? They looked his age… or did they? He couldn’t seem to remember anything about himself.
Curious, he stepped away from the painting for a moment to open the cabinet by his bedside. He started off with the top drawer. Pulling it out, it felt almost empty. However, there was defiantly something inside. Without haste, he pulled out the drawer.
Inside the drawer revealed a crown: not just any crown, but the one that the boys wore in the painting. And sure enough, after bringing the crown over to painting to check, he was right. It was an exact match.
He dropped the crown in terror. Why was the crown from the painting in that cabinet? What’s with my lack of memory of anything? “What’s going on??”
“Ughhh…” came a boy’s voice from the shadows of the other side of the room. A loud yawn and a bit of stretching could be heard from the darkness as he frozen in terror. Oh no! Someone is actually here too! Sweat began to drip down from his forehead as made sure not to do anything at all. He was hoping that he might not get noticed, and whoever was on the other side wouldn’t find out about his presence. For all he knew, that person may have been a child molester! About a minute went by, with his heartbeat still racing, before a loud thump and snoring came from the other side of the room. Relived, he continued to look through the cabinet drawers.
Slowly, he opened the second cabinet to see what was inside. His hand shook nervously as he pulled on the dresser handle. The suspense was killer as what lie in the cabinet may be as shocking as the crown.
Inside, there was only a hand mirror.
He picked up the mirror. He had gotten his first glimpse of himself, since he still couldn’t manage to remember anything about himself, especially his own image. Blonde hair…blue jacket…red jeans; his reflection was the same as one of the boys in the paining.
“AHH!” he screamed, dropping and shattering the mirror in the process.
“AHH!” the voice also exclaimed from the shadows, “Who’s here??”
“Uh…” he started to mumble, trying to think of what to say back. “Me…?”
“Me who?”
“I…I don’t know…”
“What do you mean you don’t know?”
“I don’t know who I am...”
No reply came from the voice. It seemed if he was speechless, not knowing how to react properly.
Breaking the silence, “I…I don’t ether,” the person responded back. He could hear the person’s feet hit the floor, with the springs of the beds making a noise obviously indicating he was getting out of bed. The footsteps were getting louder and louder, closer and closer. His figure could finally been seen as now he was walking out the shadows. His features were finally becoming visible.
Silky, yet light brown hair covered the top of his head. His blue eyes complimented his also blue jacket. His red jeans gave color to the otherwise grim area the two of them stood within. His complexion gave it away that he was the same age as him. If it wasn’t strange enough he himself looked like one of the boys from the painting, now the boy in front of him perfectly matched the other child.
“Well?” the boy asked him, questioning the scared look on his face.
“If you really want to know,” he started, “You should check that painting by my bedside.”
“Alright. I don’t see the harm in that.” The boy proceeded to observe the painting, knowing too that something wasn’t right. He repeatedly turned to face to look at him and then back at the painting. He defiantly saw that the comparison between the boy in the painting and him.
“Whoa!” the other boy exclaimed, “Dude! You look exactly like this kid!”
“I figured that one out myself,” he replied, a bit annoyed. “You might also want to take a look in the mir-I mean the remains of the mirror on the floor.” He did exactly that, and himself got a glimpse at he looked like. He flew backward in shock, landing on the cold, lifeless floor, realizing his own comparison the painting.
“Whoa!” he screamed once again, “It’s the same for me! What’s going on here??”
“I don’t know myself,” he answered, lending a hand for the other boy to pick in himself up, “But I’m worried that something may not be of the ordinary here, whether or not we have to find out ourselves.”
“Well, then,” the boy started, “I see a ladder. Let’s climb it and get out of here!”
“Easy there pal! Check to see if there’s anything in the cabinet by your bed. We probably don’t want to leave behind any possible clues as to who we both are. I mean, I did find a crown and that mirror in mine.”
“Ok, but something better be in there! I want to get out of here as fast as possible. This place sure does give me the creeps…” While the boy went to check his cabinet, he went to inspect the painting one last time to find any last clues. There was a plaque attached to the wooden frame of the painting, and hoped for something.
“Alight,” he said, “It seems we do have names.”
“No duh,” the boy pointed out obviously.
“Hush up now. Anyways, the boy on the left, which is you, is named…William.”
“Boring!” he commented, “Just call me Will.”
“Alright, fine. And I am named… Alexander.”
“Mind if I call you Alex?”
“Yes, I do. I would prefer to be called by the name I was given, William.”
“My name’s Will,” he said, “and I thought we’d just agreed on that, Alex.”
“I would prefer not to get into an argument,” Alexander responded. “Find anything?”
“Yes I did, in fact,” Will said with pride, “A crown of my own to be exact!” He began to wear it, pretending the spotlight was gleaming on him. What a cocky little fellow he was.
“So, we both have crowns,” Alex stated, “This has just become an even more of a development now.”
“Alright, nothing more in here,” Will impatiently said, “Now can we go up the ladder?”
“I’m fine with that. Like you said, this place is very ominous.”
“That’s not what I said at all, dude,” Will responded, climbing up the squeaky ladder.
“I know it’s not. Talking sophisticated is much better than that obnoxious surfer-lingo of yours.”
“Watch it buddy,” his echo replied, “I take pride in my speech.”
“Whatever you say,” Alex commented as he too started his climb up the ladder. The ladder was pretty old; looking like it could give away at any moment. The wood look in such bad shape, and the obvious splinters everywhere made the climb upward even more frightening. Maybe it was all of this that gave terror to Alexander, or maybe it was being on the outside. Who knows what could be up there? And considering there was defiantly some history between the two of them and this outside world, this may not have been the best plan after all.
“WHOA! DUDE!” Will exclaimed form the top, “Check out this wreckage! This is serious dude!”
Wreckage? What could that mean? Oh Arceus , what’s happened up there?? Alexander thought to himself, being reassured once again that something was not right here. He came up with all the possibilities as to what William had meant, but each and every one of them where dead wrong as Alexander himself finally got to the top of the ladder.
What may have been a city laid in ruins.
It was absolutely traumatizing and surely scaring. Buildings upon building were in ruin as nothing of what could have been their previous form still stood. Instead, collapsed roofs, shattered bricks and cobblestone walls, and broken glass were in their places. The earth had humongous gaping holes in it. From a distance could be seen an ongoing inferno, setting ablaze any other house somehow still standing.
The worst part of it all was not the wreckage of the city, but instead the corpses of innocent townsfolk scattered throughout the streets. It was a nightmare just looking at all the diseased and rotting flesh of the people. Each one of them, from elders to the youngest of girls, all were as dead as rocks, either had bleed, burnt, been crushed, busied, or shot to a gruesome death. The scent of the rotting flesh polluted the air, and that plus the whole scene of this once peaceful town destroyed and killed off made both of the boy want to vomit.
“Jesus man,” Will started, trying to get any words out after seeing what was the outside world, “What happened here?”
“Do we want to know is the better question,” Alexander answered, still trying to make himself look intelligent even in this time of great depression.
“I… I guess not…” he mumbled back.
“Come on then. There’s nothing we can do for this place. We might as well leave,” Alexander stated, directing Will in the direction of the once-was town gate.
“Well, maybe we could…Uhh…Uhhh…Sigh. Good point. Let’s get going.” Getting on the gravel pathway, they headed for the exit of town. Both boys tried to avoid looking at the poor townsfolk who’d lost their lives, as both of were on the brink of breaking out into tears. Depression couldn’t even begin to describe their emotions.
The archway that what was the town gate was nearing ahead. It looked to have once been made from the highest quality marble possible. As they walked under the arch, both Alexander and Will closed their eyes, put their heads down, and stopped their walking for one moment as they mourned for all the loses.
A loud gasp could heard coming farther up the path. “My princes!”
Both boys questioned as to who said that.
“My lords! You’re alive?!”
They faced their heads towards each other in confusion. Who was this old man talking to?
The man was obviously getting closer and closer. “My Highnesses! My Lords! Oh My; Oh My! You are both still alive! This is truly a glorious occas-" he got out before bumping into Will and sending him flying backwards.
“Oww!” They both yelled. “A second time today? Really??” Will also mumbled.
“Are you alright sir?” Alexander asked the man, lending him a hand to pull himself up. The man was a lot older than the two of them, looking around his 50s. However, he was bald with a gray hair still around the back of his head and had a full black mustache. He was also very oddly dressed, wearing a black overcoat, black tie, white undershirt, black jeans, and very fancy, polished shoes, which were also black; go figure. The most obvious thing though was his wrinkles on his face; they were in plain sight, just haunting the poor man that his time is coming earlier than expected.
“Yes, yes, I am fine, my highness,” he stated, calmingly dusting of his jacket.
“What was with the rushing man?” Will questioned, picking himself up off the ground.
“Well,” he explained, “I couldn’t believe my eye when I saw that you two were still alive after this horrible war! Your father must have put you in some sort of bomb shelter to have survived that!”
“Before we go on,” Alex stopped the old man, “Who are you?”
“You don’t recognize me?” he questioned, “Well, it’s me silly! Your family’s butler, Alfred!”
“Doesn’t ring a bell,” Will said, walking up to the two of them.
“It should! I’ve been with you both since the day you two were born!”
“Still nope.” Will remarked.
“To be completely honest,” Alex added, “We actually both don’t remember a thing.”
“Really? Not even that you two are the Princes of our fallen kingdom right here?”
