-- The Story of Prince Craevan Evarcrest --
Once upon a time there was a prosperous herd run by a kindhearted and courageous king. He would fight off any challenger no matter their size and rule with the utmost consideration for his subjects. Even so, this king grew lonely and eventually took one of the more beautiful mares in his herd for his queen. They were never a couple bound by love but by mutual respect and tradition more than anything else. Through this loveless union the heir, and hero of our story, Prince Craevan Evarcrest was born.
The kingdom was at peace during the foalhood of our prince, but his family was not. His mother always had a restless quality about her, something that seemed to call her to far away lands. Even when spending time with her son her thoughts would travel somewhere very distant. No one was shocked when one morning the king awoke to find his mate missing. She had left no word, only vanished, leaving her son and her mate behind without a second thought. Though this greatly upset Craevan, none was more devastated than his father. His pain did not stem from a loss of love but rather a loss in general. He had taken this mare as his mate, made her a queen, given her a son, and she still left. Some contribute the king’s future madness to this failure; others state that he was simply insane all along.
Despite being motherless Craevan grew up well, he was strong and handsome as well as compassionate like his father. There was no young mare who didn’t want to live out their fantasies with this princely stallion. Even though many attempted to capture his heart Craevan was too interested in being groomed to one day take over the kingdom. Do not mistake interest for excitement my dear reader, make no mistake, Craevan was deathly afraid to one day be the king. Even though his father was a wonderful teacher Craevan never felt as though he would be ready to be the stallion in charge. His insecurities about the throne grew every day but he managed to keep those feelings hidden and raise his head high. That was, until the day of the “Great Rebirth” as the kingdom had come to know it.
One day, while walking the borders of the kingdom with his father, Craevan noticed something glinting in the sunlight. He called his father over to have a look thinking the king would do nothing more than scoff at it and continue on. Instead the king stood staring at the gilded disk for quite a while before picking it up in his maw and trotting off toward the kingdom without a word. Confused, Craevan followed and stopped only when he noticed his father standing on the rock used to make announcements to the subjects. To his horror, the king stood before the soquili and announced that this was a gift given to him by a deity in order to better rule the kingdom.
This is where the black clouds of doom first began to appear but no one would speak against their beloved king. Somehow he had gotten the idea in his mind that this little disk would help him to lead the kingdom to its ultimate grace. There were two faces of this object, one with the head of some strange looking man creature and the other with some undistinguishable lines. The king believed that each side held a different answer, and as such would flip it up into the air and wait for it to land and reveal its decision before he acted on anything. This led to many poorly made decisions which eventually led the kingdom to the edge of ruin, but still no one would speak out. Many turned to Craevan, pleading with their prince to speak with his father or to take the throne in order to save them.
Fear of leadership, fear of being unprepared, fear of failure, and fear of defying his father kept Craevan silent, and he would turn his back on those in need. Even though the subjects were being treated badly he would not, could not, act. Instead he would retire into the comfort of his cavern in the formation of rock known as Castle Rock. Hiding away from the coming darkness he thought to just weather the storm and hope that his father would come to his senses and all would once again be right. Thus the cowardly prince allowed the gilded disk to ruin the lives of those who once trusted and loved him.
Cries of grief and fear filled the kingdom as Craevan’s father allowed rival stallions come and take what, or who, they wanted. The disk had told him not to act so he would do nothing, only watch as families were torn apart. Even when a skinwalker made the kingdom his own private hunting grounds the coin kept his father from intervening. Death and pain painted the once happy and prosperous kingdom in a crimson red hue. Though Craevan knew his father had lost any ounce of sanity he had once possessed he did not step in to stop him. He would stand wearily by the king’s side, still playing the part of an obedient son, too afraid to act.
One night, during another bout of troubled sleep, a glimmering white unicorn visited Craevan in his dreams. He felt warm and protected in her light but all at once troubled by her harsh tone when she spoke to him. She relayed a message about the plight of the soquili, telling him that it was his duty to suit up and stop this madness. She scolded him for not protecting the lives of the innocent subjects who once adored him and told him that cowardice and inactivity would only end up causing more pain. The pure one told him to act, to save the kingdom, before dusk of the next day or a punishment far worse than any he could imagine would be handed down.
He hadn’t any idea who the glowing one could have been but the next afternoon he adorned his golden armor and white cloak and went to meet his father. The subjects crowded around him, a sense of hope returning to their dull and fearful eyes at the sight of their glimmering prince. Craevan’s heart was resolute as he stopped before his father, his blue eyes locking with those of his sire. Father and son stared one another down for a while before the king addressed the prince.
“You have come for the throne then.”
Craevan’s heart turned cold and quivered at those words. Judging by his father’s tone of voice he was willing to go down fighting if he had to. The prospect of killing his own sire caused Craevan’s resolution to waver. Why had he done this? All because of some silly dream? The kingdom waited with baited breath for their prince to speak, to take the initiative and knock his father from the throne. Every last ounce of hope shattered into nothing as the prince lowered his head and turned his back on the king, silently announcing he had no intention of taking over.
Dusk broke over the fallen kingdom and Craevan was thrown to the ground by an invisible force. The pure one’s voice echoed in his head. “Accept it.” She repeated over and over again. “Accept it.” Hot pain erupted throughout his entire body and sounds of fear issued from the subjects filled his thoughts. Sharpened teeth grew painfully from his gums and his armor drained of its golden hue, turning to a cold silver instead. His white cloak stained with crimson and eventually turned to a deep purple, lastly the scent of blood and the sound of a thousand heartbeats replaced the fearful screams made by those around him.
He didn’t remember standing or how it felt when he ripped into the first jugular vein and drained the victim of blood, all he knew was that this was the punishment the glimmering one had spoken of. When the haze of blood had cleared within his mind he was left standing in the midst of his kingdom, bodies strewn everywhere. He had killed every last one of them, drained them of blood, and now wore a mask of it on his face. He had even killed his own father.
Some say that he buried all of the bodies and planted the seed of the signature flower of the kingdom on the mounds. It would be a beautiful sight to see white lilies covering the hills of the dead. Others say that he ate the bodies without a care in the world, and that he could never again touch lilies as a condition of the curse. Either way, it is known that a monster resides within Evarcrest forest, and that to enter most assuredly means certain death.
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