A Prince's Confession

Originally written by Aecus, son of Dolf-Hloab's first king Priam

To Dolf-Hloab, I've brought unity and prosperity in my time as ruler. This thriving empire that my father envisioned has come to full fruitation since I accepted the crown about five hundred years ago. We survived when the drows were fighting amongst each other and when the humans arrived and when the elves were run out of their cities. War was inevitable with these growing powers and racial differences. Next week, I march into battle with the drows on my right and the elves on my left and the humans on the opposing line of battle. As perfect an empire I forged, I must confess my sins that I committed to achieve my success. No nation should be built on a foundation of lies or secrets. It is time I set the foundations of Dolf-Hloab right, and as I march into battle, I am prepared to face my death as the eternal consequence for my actions when I was a young prince.

Living within the King's castle, it was expected that I attend years of schooling with my father's top scholarly advisors and then move on to higher learning at the university. There, I met and became good friends with a fellow student. He was a year older than myself, but had already been seen as the top student at the university. His parents were very well-respected politicians in my father's royal court. His genius wasn't a cliche "rags to riches" story, it was nothing more than a "riches to even more riches" kind of story. He and his family line had been wealthy for decades. Son after son never worked a hard day's labor; only continuously inherited a large fortune from their fathers. He was a science student, in fact, he was the only science student in the university. He and the one Science Scholar-Professor at the university got along quite well, and in his second year there, he was already working as an apprentice. He worked with the one Science Scholar-Professor in the fields of mathematics and physics especially.

I was one of several students of History & Politics.

When we graduated in the year 1965 (I was 20, he was 21), I worked through the ranks of the army to gain my military expertise. He moved out of his parents' mansion on the shores and into the crowded capital city where he bought a home, then renovated it into a laboratory study for himself. There he came up with a lot of great ideas to help improve life in Dolf-Hloab. He used his skills to determine a revolutionary new calendar and time scale and devised the best techniques for building a stable home.

However, he believed his greatest accomplishment was in his concept of Fortification, the process of constructing large walls around the main cities to keep enemies out and to prevent criminals from escaping so easily. No other civilization in the history of Korth ever conceived the idea of fortification, except for him in Dolf-Hloab. He produced all of his blueprints to my father, King Priam. My father was very impressed, much to the dismay of my fiend's parents, who had disowned him previously and denounced every one of his ideas. My friend's parents would not allow my friend to attain any high-paying job within the King's council. Their word held a lot of support in Dolf-Hloab and my father knew well it would be wise to listen to them by not giving him a place as a royal advisor to enact his plans into action.

So, my father's solution was to will the throne to my friend. A king's last will and testament could not be denied in Dolf-Hloab. My father decided that upon his death, my friend would be appointed king in order to put his ideas into full blossom in Dolf-Hloab. I admit, his ideas were great and all very successful on paper and in practice. However, my friend was not a politician. He was short-tempered, destructive when angry, and stressed far too often to hold onto more than a couple close friends. He may have been a brilliant genius scientist, but he would be a horrible leader. He lacked much knowledge about our culture's past. He stuttered whenever he tried to speak in public. No matter how many times I begged my father to see my friend's inability to lead, my father remain unchanged.

This was in the year 1969. I was 24, my friend was 25. I regret it very much but I had to fix this situation for the sake of Dolf-Hloab. Technological innovation was great, but not at the expense of the people under poor leadership. I knew there would always be a small window of 10 minutes between bodyguard shifts over my father as he slept. So I waited, and when my 10 minute window of opportunity came, I spoke an ancient incantation within my father's living chambers to kill my father. No one, not even a bodyguard, was to enter the king's living chambers while he slept. My father decided long ago that he only wanted to be disturbed in his sleep in case of extreme emergencies in Dolf-Hloab. No one would find his body until at least the day after when people would be suspicious as to why the king did not appear yet to his people. I would rewrite history when I attained power to say that the elven high priestess Leta killed my father. Now, as I am just 10 years shy of my 600th birthday, I regret what I did back then, but it had to be done. Tampering with the historical records was a last resort that I hoped I would never have to stoop so low to in order to accomplish my goals.

Anyways, after leaving my father's castle, I moved to my friend's home in the crowded city. From a distance, I could see my friend sitting in a window in his home near where his desk always say ready for his thinking. Still from a distance, I threw a torch directly at my friend's home, waited a few minutes for the fire to sink in, and then ran off to get help. I knew the help would be too late though. My friend was already dead when I saw him through the window, someone had beat me to the act. The fire I threw merely destroyed my friend's lab and life's work. With him and my father both dead, I was appointed as king after an elaborate funeral for my father. My friend however received no funeral, nor grievers. My friend's death was far too overshadowed by the story that the King of Dolf-Hloab was killed by the Elven high priestess.

No one but myself would remember the name of the genius who was almost king of Dolf-Hloab, Horologium.

I am sorry my friend, and my loving father. May my soul be damned for my deeds earlier in life. I still sit alone in my bed chambers at night crying and praying for your souls. I was young and foolish. But what's done was done. There is no changing the past. I only hope for a better future for all of Korth.