Messages From a Friend (Poofless)

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~*Wojcik*~

"How old is the Minecraftian Prince now?" I ask, turning to my admirals. "Thirteen, fourteen?"

"Recruit Woofless Craft will be turning seventeen in three months time." Admiral Fonywah states, pointing to the boy's picture on the desk before him. It feels like I was just struck by a brick. He's too old to brainwash by usual methods.

"Are you positive this is an accurate date? Minecraftian dates can be challenging to translate into-"

The Admiral interrupts me. "I'm positive about his age. He, and the rest of the 7,671st class, will graduate next year."

"Next year?"

"Yes, My Emperor."

"Starting today, I want weekly meetings with the boy in my throne-room. His attendance is mandatory," I demand, pointing to the door. "Fetch him!"

"But, my emperor, what about the Minecraftian boy that-"

I interrupt him. "Just look for a short kid with different coloured skin around a thirty mile radius. Minecraftians are smart, but stubborn by nature. He won't leave until he can take his Prince to safety." The Admiral bows his head to me before leaving.

"You're going to be treating him in the same fashion as Aceti?" Another admiral asks, speaking up once Fonywah leaves.

"It'll be similar," I mumble, running a hand through my hair. "That's a guarantee."

+Flashback+

I watch numbly as my soldiers gun down a young Minecraftian man as he runs toward his family. A woman screams, and more guns shots ring out through the clearing. Remember Wojcik, these people abandon you.

"Fvendal, stop!" I overhear a man shout in Minecrafti, and turn to see a middle-aged man grab an enraged teen by the wrist; keeping the teen from coming close to my firing squad. "We've already lost enough of our family. I don't want to lose you too!" I tilt my head back and laugh. Pathetic. You're all going to die anyways. The teen must have noticed me laughing, because he yells out a line of Minecraftian curses in my direction. His father hits him in the head, speaking too quickly for me to understand as he motions toward something hidden within the crowd.

"Bring the teenager over here," I mutter to the general beside me. "The one that's really angry."

"Yes, my emperor," the general bows his head to me before he and two other soldiers force their way into the crowd and toward the teen. I hear a small child scream, and the middle-aged man picks up a small boy protectively as his son is dragged away. The father's eyes were dark with the reality of the situation.

The teen fights the four soldiers before being forced to his knees in front of me. He looked oddly familiar with his dark-brown hair and light skin, but I couldn't tell precisely due to my general forcing his face into the dirt. How do I know him?

"Let him look at me," I state, sliding down onto one knee as the general grabs the boy's hair and forces his head upwards. As soon as I see a pair of icy blue eyes meet my own, I instinctively want to run in the opposite direction. Prince Seto.

The boy narrows his eyes at me. "You're scared," the boy sneers in my native tongue; surprisingly fluent. "What's so scary about a man who can't fight back?" No. I killed Seto two years ago in the Trunkeet raid, and this boy is too young to be Seto.

"Who are you?" I snap, gripping the boy's chin.

"A sixteen-year-old Minecraftian," The boy states sarcastically.