The Plague

Escape

The Prince Is Dead!

It didn't take much for word to spread, especially with royalty involved. The beloved Prince Ave had passed at some point during the night, peacefully still when his chambermaid stepped into his room early that morning. But there was not much time to mourn. There was still a throne that needed a king, and now a funeral that needed quick planning. Within three days the corpse had been dressed and placed in the royal catacombs. And scheduled in only a couple more, the crowning of the next eldest son, Prince Garrow.

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Friar John stepped carefully down the dark musty halls of the crypt, torch in hand. The light danced down the stone walls, following him as he stepped into his destination. Rows of heavy tombs carrying the cadavers of the royal family,  only one saved from the dust.

The fox put his torch into the unused sconce, gazing over the intricate marble coffin. He gave a sigh, and began to push the top, slowly but surely shifting the slab to the side. Just enough to reveal the pure prince sleeping within. His chest rose and fell in shallow breaths, the ceremonial suit he wore not shifting at all to betray it.

"My dear prince... What trouble you have caused yourself..." John muttered, pulling a small vial from his satchel. He popped the small cork off the top, waving the substance under the hybrid's snout.

"...Nngh...mm?" The thought to be dead male shifted, then opened his eyes, bright crystal blue eyes staring upward as he began to awaken. A tan hand lifted, digits gripping the edge of the coffin.

"Be slow, Ave." The friar warned as his friend slowly sat up, groaning. His body ached from several days off being immobile, but he was sure the feeling would fade soon. The vulpine offered him a flask, Ave graciously taking it to take a good drink of water. He gave off a sigh of relief, flashing the monk a cheerful grin.

"Thank you John. For all of this." He hummed, taking another sip before handing the flask back so he could pull himself out of his tomb. His muscles shouted, face grimacing in pain. The prince leaned against the stone for a moment, letting himself get adjusted. He gently tugged at the extravagant clothes he currently wore, frowning.

"Of course...There's no going back after this, my prince." John spoke in concern, pulling out a neatly folded black cloak from his bag.

"I know. But Garrow will make a finer king than I, I am sure." Prince Ave responded, taking the garment and wrapping it around his shoulders to cover the loud royal uniform. He tugged the large hood up to hide his face in shadow, thankful it was able to pass his thick quills. Once the slab was pushed back over the tomb and John retrieved his torch, the two began to travel their way back out of the catacombs.

"Your horse is ready to go behind the stables. I took the liberty of packing your armor, sword, rations, anything else you may need out there..." John trailed off as they entered the warm summer night, looking up at the stars.

"Follow the beaten path to the eastern woods. Find the merchants' caravans and stick close. Stay low. Do not reveal yourself to anyone. Change your appearance if you can." He warned Ave, looking up at the large male seriously. Just the dark muzzle of the other showed in the pale moonlight, smiling sadly. He stepped forward, wrapping his arms around the fox with a gentle purr. The shorter, but much older male chuckled, gently patting the young prince's back.

They parted, and Prince Ave sighed, facing the direction he had to travel next.

"I will send word once I enter the next kingdom, under the alias Aiden." He faced John again, bowing his head. The fox returned the gesture, and then the two parted into the night.