A Lonely Prince and a Wise Barn Owl
If one were to ask the Autumn Prince for his age, he wouldn’t know how to respond. His memory had long been distorted; a year to him consisted only of the months Philadelphia spent coated in leaves.
His reign began when the Summer King closed his eyes for a yearly rest, ending when he gave way to the Winter Queen on November so she could coat the streets in frost. As far as the Prince was concerned, he reigned over the most beautiful season—one in which the world turned golden and smelled of warm apple spice.
Although he had plenty of real gold stashed in his palace, the Prince didn’t care for it. He could not count his years in numbers, but the Prince was a youth, and found it natural to go outdoors in search of distraction with commoners.
But he could only mingle with people on Halloween, one day a year in which he gave himself the pleasure of joining a crowd. Everyone was already in costume, meaning his out-of-season attire didn’t raise any eyebrows. People assumed his jewels to be fake, his medals part of a costume; even his sword was just one of many wielded by boys dreaming of knighthood.
Halloween was not for two more days. Struggling to contain his excitement, the Prince had decided to go for a stroll. He meandered the obscure dirt roads behind the small town of Bennett, counting the minutes till he could join real people.
This particular autumn was the most golden he could remember. Leaves blanketed the ground in warm hues of brown and red, like the tones carpeting his palace—but alas, even that luxury couldn’t compare to this spectrum.
He drank it in, walking up the empty street, and pondered—was it a sign? Yes, it had to be—perhaps there was hope for him, after all. This Halloween, he might finally find an Autumn Princess.
Behind him, the Prince heard a familiar rustle of feathers.
“You have been outdone,” hooted his friend the barn owl. “Have you ever seen such an autumnal paradise?”
The Prince turned to greet his watchman. Sometimes he wished the barn owl could be normal and silent; usually when the barn owl spoke, it was to reprimand and scold.
“I agree.” He tucked his hands into his pockets, skipping on leaves like a young boy. “It’s an omen, my friend. This will be a good year.”
“You say that every year, and I know what you’re thinking,” retorted the owl. “If you care a whit for my wisdom, learn to be happy with yourself!”
“I am happy with myself,” said the Prince, stung. “But I’m not happy by myself. There’s a difference.”
“By yourself! You aren’t by yourself,” said the owl. “You have me, and all the deer, and the hummingbirds and—”
“You wouldn’t understand,” murmured the Prince. “I wish for someone like me.”
“No human in the world will ever be like you,” the owl exclaimed. With an indignant hoot, he ruffled his feathers and vanished in a flurry of wings. The Prince watched him go, battling a familiar emptiness.
He knew the owl was right, but gratitude was difficult to feel—especially after people started to build their homes nearby. From a distance he’d seen them fall in love, build communities and do things together—human things. This forced his outlook on life to change.
The Prince could no longer settle for a life alone with barn owls and deer; neither would he wait in solitude for Halloween’s once-a-year appearance.
He began to dream a daring dream: That one day he could live like the commoners. He dreamed of having friends, leaving the trap of the Autumn Palace.
Most of all, he dreamed of finding someone to love.
To Be Continued…
I hope you enjoyed this first segment of The Autumn Prince! My goal is to introduce a character very close to my heart.
If the Prince’s story intrigues you, all you have to do is follow my blog to read more! I’ll be updating every weekday during October. Also, if you enjoy my writing, consider reading my novel Dissonance; the more the merrier, and I love to share my stories!
Come back tomorrow for the second segment!
-Mariella Hunt
Filed under: The Autumn Prince Tagged: Autumn, reading, serial, the autumn prince, the barn owl
