A Meeting With the Black Prince

9 Years Later

It rained that night. A fine whispering rain.

But Dante Folchart was far too absorbed in his video game to notice.

The night that the Black Prince visited the Folcharts, Dante had been hiding under the covers, playing Kirby's Dream Land on his old game boy for the hundredth time. He was quite fond of the game, and quite good at it but even he had to admit that it had grown boring to play after so many years. But he didn't really have much of a choice. It's not like his parents were going to buy him a GameCube after all. Not with how much they disapproved of video games.

This boredom with his game caused Dante to grow very tired and he would have dozed off entirely if it hadn't been for the knock, knock, knock, that echoed throughout his room.

Still under the covers, Dante sat up. Spooked and fully awake, Dante turned down the volume of his game to see if the noise would come again. He waited but no more knocks were heard. Still too scared to peek his head from out of the covers Dante chose to decide he had imagined it. It probably just came from my game, he thought.

With a shrug of his shoulders, Dante put his finger to the volume to resume his late night gaming session.

Knock, knock, knock!

The sound came a second time, causing him to jump. Dante knew that sound definitely hadn't come from his game. And he had a feeling he wasn't imagining it either. Gathering his courage, Dante peeked his eyes out from his covers.

Nothing remarkable looked back at him. His room was still dark and empty. His television and computer were still off. None of his toys were making any noise. The closet door was closed, and everything was in its place on the nightstand. Outside, droplets of rain were illuminated by a sliver of moonlight. They were silent as they slid down the windowpane.

Knock, knock, knock!

There it was again. By now Dante knew the sound wasn't coming from anywhere in his room. What he did know was that it was distracting him from his epic playthrough of Kirby's Dreamland. So, he made it his mission to find whatever was making all that noise. Silent as mist, Dante crept out of bed and into the hallway. It was important that he not make too much noise. His parents often stayed up late into the night reading and if they heard him his expedition would be cut short.

Dante's search led him all the way into the entrance hall where the noise was the loudest. Dante had a feeling he knew where it was coming from.

Dante crept up to the door, uncertain. Who on Earth would be coming to our house in the middle of the night? And in this rain too. Dante's parents were affable and kind people, but they didn't have many friends in the nearby village. This was mostly because Mr. Folchart's work caused them to move around so much.

Mortimer was a bookbinder and was called on from people all over Europe to repair old books that had been attacked by bookworms, mold, and other ailments. His father had showed him the process of repairing a book many times and had even tried to teach him how once, but Dante had found it terribly boring. All that stitching and pasting and cutting caused his mind to wander to more exciting topics like catching Pokemon or defeating friends in Mariokart.

Maybe it's an emergency, Dante guessed. That made more sense than a normal visit. Especially if it was a disaster that affected the entire village. The Folcharts' house was a short bike ride outside the little town. If something had happened there it would have made sense to go to them.

Knock, knock, knock! With all his speculation Dante had forgotten to check who was at the front door. Not a good thing to do in emergencies. Looking through the peephole, Dante expected to see his teacher, or the baker or maybe one of the policemen but who he saw on the other side of the door was none of those things.

Standing outside the Folcharts' house, in the dark and in the rain was a strange man whom Dante had never seen before. He wore a camouflage jacket and jeans as well as a dark pair of shades. Dark braids were obscured under a camouflage cap. His eyes were hidden behind dark shades and he was kept dry by a camo umbrella. But the most notable thing about this stranger, to Dante, was that his skin was the same color as the trees that grew behind the Folcharts' small cottage.

Dante did not know anyone like that. Immediately he dashed down the hall and into his parents' room. Any concerns he had of being caught were forgotten.

There were much more important things to worry about now.

When Dante reached the bedroom, his parents were awake just as he hoped they'd be. Each of them had a book in their hand and were reading by candlelight. Even as someone who didn't like books Dante always worried about that habit. Weren't his parents afraid of their precious books catching on fire?

"What is it, Dante?" Mortimer asked when he noticed his son in the doorway. Mr. and Mrs. Folchart sat up in bed.

"There's someone at the door." Dante said, pointing to the front of the house.

"Are you sure it's not those PlayStation games giving you nightmares again?" Teresa asked skeptically.

Mortimer sighed. "I knew we shouldn't have let him borrow that from his friend. As if the game square wasn't bad enough."

"It's called a GameCube, father." Dante said exasperated that his parents didn't believe him and were bashing his hobbies for the hundredth time. "And it wasn't a dream, I promise. There really was someone at the door."

Dante's parents exchange a look, their faces grim and suspicious.

"I swear there's someone! I swear!" Dante said growing defensive. "We have to answer it! What if it's an emergency?"

This argument was what finally stirred Mortimer out of bed. "Alright." He said, putting his book down and stretching. "Let's go see what's up."

The two of them walked down the dark hallway. "I didn't recognize the man on the other side." Dante explained as they went. "Maybe you will?" Mortimer gave him a curious look but said nothing. When he got to the front door, he told Dante to stand back.

Dante who was very curious to see who it was tried to protest. "Oh, but-"

"I mean it, Dante." Mortimer said sternly. "If you don't recognize this person, he could be dangerous. I don't want you to get hurt."

"Oh, alright." Dante said and he went to stand in the doorway of the Folcharts' kitchen. This whole thing was turning out to be very exciting. It was just like the beginning of his favorite rpgs!

Mortimer finally bent down to peek through the peephole. When he did his eyes went wide and his mouth came open. Dante knew the man on the other side wasn't that scary so the expression on his father's face must have been one of recognition.

"Do you know who it is?" Dante asked, but Mortimer didn't answer. Instead, he threw the door open giving Dante a full view of the dark-skinned man on the other side.

"Silvertoungue." The stranger said, relief coloring his features. His voice was strong and elegant. "I had a feeling I'd find you here. For a moment I was worried you wouldn't answer the door."

Dante's father cut right to the chase. "What are you doing here?" He asked icily. Oh yeah. Mortimer and this man definitely knew each other.

The stranger sighed. "Ah, I had a feeling you wouldn't be happy to see me." He said, "To be honest I don't want to be here anymore than you. But I have to be."

"And why is that?" Mr. Folchart asked, narrowing his blue eyes.

The stranger took on a sheepish demeanor, scratching his nose and gazing down at the hardwood floors. "It's… It turns out that I need your help."

"My help?" Mortimer asked, his anger subsiding somewhat.

"Yes. It's an emergency."

"See?" Dante said excitedly. "I told you so!" The two men turned to look at him and Dante realized, not for the first time in his life, that he had spoken out of turn.

While Mortimer gave his son a disapproving looks the stranger smiled. "Let me guess. You're Silvertoungue's son aren't you."

"Yup!" Said Dante proudly. "I'm Dante and I'm eight years old." He held up his fingers to emphasize his point. The dark-skinned stranger chuckled. His laugh was gentle and glamorous.

"Why did you call Father, Silvertongue?" Dante asked and Mortimer sighed.

"Alright. I think it's time you went back to bed." Mr. Folchart said, putting his arm around his son and steering him into the hallway.

"Oh, but why?" Dante whined. "Things were just getting interesting."

"It's not interesting." Mortimer said. "The Black Prince may seem whimsical, but he carries a lot of misfortune with him."

"The Black Prince?" Dante repeated. Was that what they called the stranger?

"Come on, Dante." Said his father. "Go to bed. I won't ask again."

"Oh, alright." Dante said, slumping his shoulders and shuffling into his room. He closed the door behind him, waited for the sound of his father's retreating footsteps and oh so silently, opened his door a crack.

Dante had always prided himself on his spying abilities. Just by pressing his ears to the right door he had come to learn some very important things, like the fact that his mother had her writing published in a short story compilation when she was ten or the fact that Elias Schmidt had an uncle who worked at Nintendo.

So, he was determined to use his skills to learn what he could about this mysterious stranger that was in his house. The Black Prince, they called him.

Out in the dark hall, Mortimer had pulled Teresa out of bed. Both of them were talking to the Black Prince with faces and voices that were laced with suspicion.

"Let's not talk about this here." Mr. Folchart said in hushed tones. "We can discuss this in the study."

"Alright. Let's do that, then." The Black Prince agreed, and they walked off towards the stairs.

Ohno! They were getting away from him! Quickly and quietly, Dante crept through the hall and poked his head into the kitchen. "Would you like a cup of tea? Or are you more of a coffee person?" Dante's mother asked as the group began to climb the stairs to the study.

"Oh, you don't have to brew anything for me." The Black Prince said. "I'll be alright."

Then the study door slammed shut and their voices vanished.

Dante rushed up the stairs at once. He tip-toed to the study door and pressed his ear up against it. The Black Prince's voice was the first one he heard from the other side.

"It's the Adderhead." He spoke. His voice, which had been rather carefree before, now sounded grave and tired. "He's got something dangerous in store for this world. And he wants you to be a part of it."

The Adderhead, Dante thought. What's an Adderhead? And what was all this about the fate of the world? And what did his parents have to do with that?

Maybe they're secretly spies or assassins or something, Dante guessed. Suddenly his parents were a lot cooler in his eyes.

"What do you mean he wants us to be a part of it?" Dante's mother asked.

"It's the book." The Prince answered. "He's been on the hunt for it recently. And for you as well."

Oh, just more book business, Dante thought, his interest waning. This Adderhead was probably nothing more than an eccentric book fan? As for this dangerous fate in the world? Well, it was probably to horde all the books on Earth for himself.

"It's part of his great plan for Italy." The prince elaborated. "You know how he's been down there since he came into this world. He's more powerful now than ever before. With his current resources it'll only be a matter of time before he finds you."

"Not if we can help it." Mortimer said defiantly.

"What do you mean?" Teresa and The Black Prince asked.

Yes, what do you mean, thought Dante.

"I mean, I'm confident The Adderhead won't find us." Mortimer clarified. "And he certainly won't be getting his hands on the book."

"I wouldn't be so confident if I were you." The Black Prince said. "The Adderhead is a ruthless tyrant. He always finds a way to get what he wants in the end."

"Maybe that's how things worked in your world." Mortimer said. "But remember, he's not in your world anymore." That's when the doorknob started to turn.

Dante immediately withdrew, rushing down the stairs, through the hallway and into his room as quietly as he could. Then he threw himself under the covers and pretended to be fast asleep.

From outside his room Dante could hear his parents and The Black Prince talking as the guest made his way out though he couldn't make out any of the words. Then he heard the door slam and the house fell silent.