Chapter Text
Being born a noble, Jurard has felt like his life was already set in stone from him. To grow up, become a well liked ruler, make offspring, the universe had given him a purpose from the day he was convinced. That would be his life for so many of his developmental years. Perfecting everything about himself so he would be fit to be the prophecy the world had told him he needed to fulfill.
And yet, there was something deep down that he felt like was wrong. Everything was so meticulously thought out for him, from his clothes to his routine. Having everything set in stone for your life, guaranteeing your success.
Jurard would watch commoners on his way to the ports or other kingdoms in the area, some even his age. They never had the wealth that he had, yet they always looked so…free. They could choose to have the bread and fruit they want, they could enjoy their time playing games with friends. They had the freedom to do what they wanted, and in those moments Jurard had made an epiphany.
Royal life had trapped him.
For most of his life he had stuck to a strict schedule with very little room for mistakes. While kids were outside throwing stones into lakes, he was inside learning proper posture at the age of 8. The prince had missed out on so much of his childhood, just for a guaranteed spot of success in life, and was that really worth it? For friends to be chosen for him? For his activities to be proper? To be robbed of a childhood?
Jurard would question this further with his parents, to which he was greeted with disdain and anger.
“You were meant to fill big shoes in this family, treating you this way was the only way to maintain our legacy!” His mother would yell.
“We have raised you with good fortune and boisterous wealth in your future, you have no room to be ungrateful!” His father would rebuttal.
They had no regrets of wasting his years like this. They never saw him as a son, as a child who wanted to experience life and live. He was only a tool to them. A tool to keep them and the other adults in his life wealthy for years, and this fact boiled his blood to his very core.
The family would bicker and argue furiously, lashing out the years worth of trauma passed from child to child. Eventually, Jurard would leave the scene, stomping into his room with disgust. Tears stroke down his face as he would lay on the sheets of his mattress. He couldn’t deal with the fate that he was given, to be handed a role he didn’t want and for his trauma to be passed down to his offspring. He couldn’t let himself be trapped in monotony for the rest of his life. He needs to run away from it all. He needs to live.
And so, he did.
Only packing a week's worth of clothes from his closet, some bread and water stolen from the kitchen, and his dignity, Jurard had made his final decision. Sneaking through the courtyard and through the most hidden parts of the castle’s walls, Jurard makes his way out of the castle.
The minute his shows touch the uncut grass, he runs. He ran as far away as he could, deep into the woods that surrounded the areas of his former home. The woods felt dirty, full of a grassy, dirt like stench. And yet, Jurard loved every second of it. The new experience of going into the fresh woods, feeling its musky airs. This is the freedom he wanted in life, this is what he should have gotten when he was growing up. He didn’t know where he was going, no shelter seemed close in sight, but the one thing he knew was that for the first time in his life, he felt free.
Jurard would sprint for miles on end, passing by small villages and an occasional home. At least that's anywhere where home is not in sight. Eventually hours would pass, the night would grow quieter, and Jurard would grow weaker. The young prince, now far away from what he called home, was covered in dirt and grass, chilly from the south elysian night. His running was now turned to a slow, unsteady, walk as he tried to keep himself awake in the woods as he tried to find a place to settle for the night. As the young man pushed himself awake, he feels something. Something...warm, and then he sees it.
A bright light gleamed in the distance, and a warm ember touched his body. A fire, so late at night? It intrigued him. Jurard decided to see if he could edge closer, maybe he could sleep somewhat warm tonight.
Peeking behind a bush nearby, he peeks into the view. A campfire was laid and prepared in a pretty neat manner, right behind was a small folding table, filled to the brim with various necessities, and a small van which had seen better days. Yet, that wasn't the thing that Jurard had noticed first. There was a man, sitting by the campfire with a sharp rifle leaning on the arm of the chair. And then it hit him.
He had remembered how his parents had hired bounty hunters as security for their annual ball one year, and one face had struck him as quite peculiar. This man has long brown hair with golden tips. And that same peculiar man was right in front of him without the man even knowing.
Jurard hid behind his bush and started to panic. What if his parents found out all of a sudden? What if they sent out scouts to find him and bring him back? Is this really it for him? All of these thoughts rushed through his head all at once, thinking this was truly the end of his freedom for the rest of his life.
And then he hears a gun cocking noise. He's noticed.
Jurard's heart soars out of his chest, only praying that by some chance, the man wasn't coming towards his way. Footsteps crunch into the grass, the sound only growing louder and louder as the man seemingly approaches.
The footsteps stop, Jurard's heart is racing beyond belief. He holds his breath and waits for the curtain to be pulled.
Jurard hunches into a fetal pose as the man pushes through the bush. He feels the shadow over his body, he knows that at any moment he will shoot him, or beat him until he faints, or kidnaps him. He's done for and this is the end of his freedom.
...
Seconds pass. Nothing is done.
...
Jurard opens one eye slowly, he sees the man. His golden eyes pierced into his soul. Yet he looks worried...and concerned.
He hears the drop of a weapon, and slowly his hand starts to reach out to him.
"You need some help?"