It might be a little while until Part 4 comes out because I can't think up a name for the main character. If anyone has any ideas, please suggest, I'm open to anything right about now. I'm thinking a name starting with an "S". Enjoy the story.


The Beginning: Part 3 of 5

Wake up Quachalon. Your time has come.

The young prince stirred in his royal chambers.

Time for what?

The awakening is at hand.

Who are you? What is this?

This is your destiny, rise to the occasion.

I rise for no one, I am a prince.

You may be born a prince, but you are destined to be the servant for all life.

Servant? For life? What are you talking about?

The prince awoke with a start. Breathing heavily, it had only been a dream. As soon as he was awake, three of his attendants immediately came to his aid.

"Leave me be!" he said angrily, sloughing off their assistance.

Once the attendants went back to their posts, he settled back into his bed.

I, the sovereign prince of the great planet Yudo, a servant. I must be more tired than I thought.

He closed his eyes, pushing the unsettling thoughts out of his mind.

The royal celebration for the Queen's twenty-five year anniversary celebration brought not only Yudonians from all over the planet but all planets in the solar system to take part in the festivities. The planet Yudo, arguably the most powerful planet in the Andromeda galaxy, definitely the most advanced, reigned through the solar system and held posts throughout most of the galaxy. Queen Aeoleon was their sovereign leader and her eldest son of three sons, Prince Quachalon, the heir to the Yudonian kingdom.

"Where is my son?" Queen Aeoleon asked her royal advisor, Sic Hiam.

Hiam noticed the disdained expression on the queen's face. Wherever her son was, he obviously wasn't where he was supposed to be.

"Why, he is being fitted for his suit?" the sic answered, "Is he not?"

"No, I was just there," she answered testily, being hastily followed by numerous attendants, "He is not being fitted. Which leads me to ask you where he is."

The sic gulped, although he had better things to do rather than look after the spoiled prince, he knew it was best to appease his mother, the sovereign ruler.

"Sic Io!" Hiam yelled, trying best to avoid the queen's glare, "Io!"

A short plump man came running down the corridor of the palace minutes later.

He stopped short when he saw Hiam with the queen and when he saw the look on the queen's face.

"My queen," he said, prostrate with his fist to his chest.

"Io," she said, "Where is my son?"

Io was in charge of the princes' learning.

"Pardon my insolence, sovereign," Io said, "But which one?"


"Of course," Io said, nervously, "Well you see my queen. The young prince refused to be fitted for his royal suit-"

"He what?!" the queen shouted, causing all within earshot to tremble, "Where is he?!"

"He is in the training room," Io said quickly, looking down.

The queen brushed by the two royals and hastened to the princes' training room, leading of trail of ladies scurrying behind her.

"You see my brothers," Quachalon said to the twin boys, sitting on the floor, "Swordsmanship is pure finesse."

He brandished his ornate sword articulately and stopped in a fencing pose.

"Finesse and skill," he finished.

The two brothers, Pentalon and Sesalon, clapped wildly obviously impressed by their older brother's display.

Sora stood by watching her three sons, as Quachalon practiced sword play with one of the trainers, she motioned for her ladies not to follow her and then snuck up to her two younger sons. They both smiled when they saw her but she motioned for them to be silent. Her ladies picked the boys up, as it was not proper for princes to sit on the floor, and carried them out.

"Maybe one day," Quachalon continued, "You two may grow to be a great swordsman like I am."

He turned to see his mother, the queen, standing in front of him, and looking very upset.

Quachalon did not let this affect him.

"My queen," he said politely, bringing his sword to his chest, prostrate.

"My prince," she said, bowing slightly.

Quachalon's eyes twinkled as he handed his sword to his trainer.

"Should not the queen be at her chambers being fitted for her royal suit?" he asked.

"Should not the prince as well?" she countered.

"I chose not to go."

"And why not?"

"Because," he said defiantly, "I am sovereign prince, heir to the Yudonian kingdom and half this galaxy. I need not waste my time dressing like a girl but learning to fight like a man. A great leader will have to be a great soldier too, or have you forgotten that mother?"

"Perhaps you have forgotten, my son," Sora stressed tightly, "But I am the sovereign Queen. I am the Yudonian kingdom and half this galaxy. And a young prince with a large sense of self worth will not castigate me. You shall fight like a man when you become a man. You shall stop wasting your time, as you call it, dressing like a girl when you stop acting like an infant. A great leader must be able to lead and right now you couldn't lead a squadron of Yudonian forces to win a parlor game," she stated, her voice increasing ever so slightly, "Now get to your fitting."

"Yes mother," Quachalon said quietly.

"Now," she said gently, kissing his forehead, "Off with you."

Quachalon sat on his bed, looking out the window, watching some of his mother's maidens play with his brothers in the royal gardens. He was bored, after the fitting, his mother had punished him for his disobedience and forced him to stay in his room until his studies. He sighed and rose from his bed, leaning out the window. His brothers glanced up at the window, saw him and waved. He smiled and waved back. The maidens saw him and smiled shyly, bowing slightly. He bowed his head.

Girls. He shook his head; he hoped he would never have to get married, he could rule alone, like his mother. Better than his mother. But for now, she was queen and he was forbidden to leave his room. For now.

"There are three neighboring galaxies to the Andromeda galaxy," Io explained, "The Milky Way is the closest galaxy to our own and although Yudonians have explored many planets in this galaxy, and have made claims to many of them there."

Quachalon yawned. He hated his studies, he never saw the point in learning, who cared about the Milky Rope galaxy or whatever it was called, he was a prince. If he wanted to know something, he would have someone know it for him.

"Prince Quachalon, please pay attention," Io said sternly.

Quachalon rolled his eyes.

"Now, as I was saying," Io said turning his back to the prince.

Quachalon leaned back and closed his eyes; he couldn't take much more of this boring session. Soon, he slowly drifted off to sleep, guided by the droning voice of his tutor.

Prince Quachalon.


Follow us.


Follow us.

I am a prince, I follow no one.

Follow us and you shall have powers beyond your imagine. Kingdoms shall fall at your feet.


"Prince Quachalon," Io said sternly, "Wake up!"

What powers? How do I get these powers?

"My prince!" Io said, nudging the boy, "You are being very rude. If you do not wake up now, I shall have to speak with your mother!"

Don't go, tell me, what powers?

We shall show you.


"Prince Quachalon!" Io said, shaking the prince.

"I'm awake!" Quachalon snapped, stopping Io's shaking with his hand to Io's chest.

"Prince Quachalon," Io chastised as the prince pushed against his tutor, "I have-.

Suddenly Io felt tightness in his chest and felt as if his whole body were on fire. He eyes rolled back to the side of his head, the prince's hand still on his chest, and he was thrown clear across the room, slamming into the bookcase. Quachalon's eyes were wide as he scrambled out of the chair and was at his tutor's side in a second.

He looked around frantically, not knowing what to do.

"Help!" he screamed, "Someone help!"

The prince was frantic; he didn't know what had happened. Io was just waking him up and now he looked dead. Quachalon had just pushed him away lightly, he barely even pushed, and he just touched his chest-. Quachalon gasped and looked down at his hand. Had he done this? He looked back at his tutor, he wasn't breathing.

Go ahead.

He tentatively drew his hand closer to his tutor's chest.

It's okay, do not be afraid.

He placed his hand on Io's chest and felt the same surge of energy as before. He could see sparks flying from his hand as Io's eyes flew open. He quickly removed his hand in terror as Io gasped for air.

"My prince," two guards said, rushing in, "Are you in any danger?"

Quachalon couldn't speak as he got up from Io and backed away. He just looked at his tutor, who just a couple of minutes ago had been dead.

"I-I-Io," he stammered, "He's hurt."

The guards ran to Io's side as more came in and inquired as to the problem.

"Is he okay?" Quachalon asked as the guards helped Io up.

"He will be fine," the royal doctor, Sic Aeschylus said.

"What happened?" the queen asked.

"His heart stopped beating," the doctor said, "It's very rare now but in the past it was a quite common medical problem. The heart stops beating or has irregular beats due to lack of care. But with heart stabilizers and the yearly artery thinning vaccine, that condition became a thing of the past."

"So what happened?"

"Well from the digital scanning," the doctor said, pointing to the 3-D display of the heart, "It appears that he received something like an electrical shock straight to this cardiovascular system. We believe he was electrocuted."

"Thank you Aeschylus," the queen said before leaving.

As she went outside the room, her son was immediately at her side, anxious and waiting.

"Is he dead?" Quachalon blurted out.

"No," the queen said, "He's fine. Apparently his heart stopped."


"They say he was electrocuted," the queen said, looking down suspiciously at her son, "Do you know how it happened?"

Quachalon shook his head violently, "No, he just fell down and then I called for help," he looked away, "So, he's okay."

"Yes, he will be."

"Good," Quachalon said, "I'm tired, I think I'll retire now."

Quachalon hurried to his room and his mother looked on at him worriedly. In the medical room, Aeschylus examined Io and noticed for the first time a burn mark starting to form on his chest. It wasn't evident before but now it was getting darker. Aeschylus was shocked, with closer inspection; the burn mark resembled a small hand.


Go away.


No, I don't want your stupid powers.

You wanted us to show you.

I didn't want to kill anyone!

You will learn that some sacrifices must be made for the greater good.

And what is this greater good?

What you will be fighting for. It is what you were destined to fight for. The awakening has begun, it is too late to return to what you once knew.

No, I don't care who you are! Go away, I don't want to fight for you. I am going to be king, leave me alone.

Open up your mind. And look.

Images flashed in rapid succession. A parade. A street filled with people. A row of buildings. The third building in the row. The top of that building.

What is there…Answer me, I said, what's there?

Your destiny.

Prince Quachalon was renowned for his swordsmanship skills. He was undoubtedly the best swordsman in the whole kingdom and he was still a young boy. No one could defeat him in a match, not even the best soldiers in the Yudonian army. The young prince showed off to his friends as he battled with his trainer.

"That's enough for today, Quachalon," Sic Reice said.

Quachalon moaned as he took off his invisible shield gauntlet.

"But I want to practice more," he complained, as his attendant took away his sword.

"You have to prepare for the ceremony today," the sic said.

"What ceremony?"

"Have you forgotten the queen's anniversary ceremony?" he said, "The opening is today."

"Oh, I forgot," the prince said, crestfallen, "Can we at least practice with arsenal?"

"Tomorrow, my prince," Reice said, "Now, you have to get dressed for the ceremony."

The prince groaned as he and his friends walked out of the training room.

"It's too bad you have to go to the ceremony Quachalon," his friend, Kovic, said.

"Yes, you were fighting excellently today," Nor added, "Better than usual. Soon, you'll be the greatest fighter in the galaxy."

"I probably already am," the prince said smugly, "Who is better than I?"

His friends could not think of anyone or at least did not want to name anyone, fearing the prince's wrath.

"Well I too have to prepare for your mother's ceremony," Kovic said leaving, "Goodbye."

The two boys departed from Kovic. As they walked, Nor noticed the troubled look on his friend's face.

"What's wrong, Quachalon?"

Quachalon looked up at his friend, still thinking about his dream last night.

"Nothing, I just don't want to go to this ridiculous ceremony," he lied.

"Why not?" Nor asked, "Don't you like parades?"

"What?" Quachalon asked, "It's a parade?"

"Yes, at the Calabian Courts. You did not know that?"

The color drained from the prince's face.

My dream. No. I can't go there. I can't go to that parade.

"Prince!" an attendant called, "Your mother commands that you dress now!"

Quachalon shook his head.

"No," he whispered.

"What is wrong, Quachalon?" Nor asked.

"No," he repeated.

"My prince," the attendant said, approaching him, "You must prepare for the ceremony."

"No!" Quachalon said louder.

He pushed away from the attendant as more came out to see what was going on. He turned and ran. Soon the attendants were chasing him. He ran through every floor of the palace, zigzagging through the gardens and the fountains, through the main hall and finally into the arsenal room. He ran into the room and locked the door behind him. He couldn't go, he knew his mother would be very upset with him but he had to do this. He looked around the room and his eyes fell to the jet propulsion craft used for by soldiers in time of quick military preparedness. He got into the vehicle. He had seen some soldiers use it before and had even ridden it in himself but he had an idea on how to operate the vehicle. He figured that the button to make it start would be the largest one. He was right. Unfortunately he forgot to open the door to the room, so when the craft lifted and took flight, it crashed through the door, alerting the palace guards to his escape. Quachalon didn't care, he figured he would go to the Alsatian Flats, it was a good deal away from the palace and by the time he was found, the ceremony would be over and he would not have to go.

"He what?!" the Queen screamed.

"My men are scouring the palace grounds for him," Sic Ujhin said, "He could not have gotten far, he is very inexperienced with flying the craft."

"And that is supposed to make me feel better?!" the queen asked angrily, "Find him now! And don't come back until you do."

Sic Ujhin bowed and then left.

"Your majesty," Sic Hiam said, "You must prepare for the royal ceremonies."

"The prince has to be at the parade," the queen insisted, "He must attend."

"I know," the sic said, "That is why I took the liberty of redirecting the parade to the Alsatian Flats, far from the palace. It should give us time to find the prince."

"Thank you Hiam," the queen said quietly, "Leave me now."

"Alsatian Flats, arrival time. 4.7 setunim," the computer in the craft said.

Quachalon smiled, by now his mother was already at the parade, starting the ceremonies, all he would do was wail until they were over and then come back. He was sure if he avoided the parade, the voices would go away.

"Destiny," he scoffed, "Ha! I am a prince, I make my own destiny."

As the craft prepared to land, he thought to himself that he was an excellent pilot as well, on account of the fact that he had never flown before. He looked out the window of the jet craft and saw a throng of people below. The smile left from his face. It was just like in his dream. He thought he had avoided this.

"No," he said frantically, reaching for the controls of the craft, "No! Not here."

"Landing sight picked," the computer said, "Preparing to land."

"No," the prince pulled up on the steering control trying to maneuver away.

He could hear as the craft began to sputter and the flying became choppy and erratic as the whole craft began to buck, tossing the prince wildly about inside. The craft veered off course towards a row of buildings. Quachalon lost control and the jet began to spin about wildly as it spiraled towards the top of a building.

Queen Aeoleon paced about anxiously. It had been too long since she had heard any news about her son. She stopped her pace when she saw Sic Reice return.

"Where is he?"

"We found the craft he took, my queen," Reice said slowly.

"Where is he?" she asked again, more calmly.

"The craft had crashed on top of a building in the Alsatian Flats, right near where the parade took place," Reice continued, "We could not find the prince."

The queen grew pale and her ladies rushed to her side.

"My son!"

"Every single able man is searching the whole kingdom for him," Reice said, "He will be found."


Sic-stands for "second in command". The queen is considered the first in everything, military, education, advisory and so on. Sics are the ones that head each aspect of Yudonian life in the royal house. It's a title given to the "royal" anything. Reice is the royal general.

Yudo- planet in its own solar system in the galaxy Andromeda, the neighboring galaxy to the Milky Way. Yudo is one of the most powerful planets in the universe and holds many other planets under its control. Their reach has spread as far as the Earth's solar system.

Nor and Kovic-cousins to Quachalon. They are his father's sister's sons.

Setunim-Yudonian equivalent to a minute. (It's "minutes" spelled backwards.)

You don't really need to remember any of this, it comes up later in the story but it's not that important. I just put it in, in case anyone got confused.