He was a curious prince, that one. It always seemed as if he never grew up from the "why?" phase of a child. Chester always had a disposition towards asking questions. Or at least, he used to. As a child, he (both figuratively and literally) poked felnines with sticks until they gave him answers. Servants would chuckle fondly at memories of the infant prince tagging along as they went along their daily activities, pulling at their robes in his endless quest for information. Life was a hide-and-seek game for knowledge. When he had his age of awakening, his magic was strong and vibrant much like his demeanor. Chester’s familiar also reflected his personality well, being an oriental magpie that pecked and cawed much like he poked and inquired, and he named her Kas- a short name resembling her more abrupt, sprightly caws she uttered in her happier days. They were inseparable, and it was the single best alternative to an otherwise absent feline-felnine friendship. Perhaps he would have grown up to be a brilliant scholar in any other situation. But of course, as a member of the Aesirith Royal family, things slid off the rails very, very quickly. For as long as he was alive, Prince Chester despised and was terrified of his own mother, but it was only later on that he properly acquired a weaselly, cowardly wit and a strong sense of self-preservation. Though Chester was ashamed of it, he could all too quickly ditch his morals if it were to parry the fury of the queen. Not that he was exceptional at it, but he had a decent chance of avoiding the inevitable. To his siblings he had a tongue made of silvery needle. On some occasions he was much too honest for anyone's own good, and on others the felnine slid right into a made-up scenario. Suffice to say, he came to resent his own family and attempted to avoid the palace at all costs, fleeing to abide in anywhere but his accursed residence. Chester wasn't always the cowardly prince that he is now. He used to make brazen remarks toward the queen much more openly. Though of course, all good things come to an end. One especially unlucky day, he annoyed the queen just a little too much. It was those unfortunate times when he was simply at the wrong place at the wrong time, realistically inevitable yet seemingly born out of chance alone. It was when Decima was already stressed from tenuous political affairs, and when his brutally honest inquiries came ‘round to the wrong ears, he finally saw the wrath of Decima first-hand. Oh, how the weight of reality crashed upon the young prince that day! With no warning at all she sliced up his wings like papyrus and pummeled him until he was almost a corpse, leaving him with shattered bones and a broken wing. His magpie familiar was also punished dearly, as her wing feathers were similarly shredded. The forlorn prince’s wails of agony echoed all throughout the palace walls, heard by all yet helped by none. With tears streaming out of his eyes and an utterly broken spirit, Chester temporarily fled the palace through an agonizing crawl that took hours on what should have been a five-minute flight. He sought treatment in the nearest shaman's den outside the royal infirmary, for he knew his mother would forbid him to ever fully heal. Eventually, as all physical injuries do, they healed. His once-fractured bones repaired itself, claw marks closed themselves, and the puncture wounds on his wings mostly mended. In places where it didn't, the shamans wove in leather where the natural wing membrane should have been so that he could fully fly again. Kas’s wing feathers grew back, and neither had gotten any injuries that were anything close to lethal. But unlike physical injuries, memories are impossible to wipe clean, and the hurt one feels internally can only ever be reconciled on very specific terms- terms that Queen Decima could never, ever comply to. Though far from the first time he was punished by his vile mother, he never saw the true extent of her ire until now. The queen was impartial to all; completely indifferent to all crimes and wrongdoings and punishing violators in the same vicious way- be it the lowliest of peasantry or her very own children. His tattered left wing was proof of that, and he need not be reminded again. Only then, through Decima's bloody warning, did he realize that. Subsequent bouts of retribution were soon to come- first after the outrage that he'd fled the palace for several days to recover under anonymous shamans, then for admitting his past insults towards the queen, again for refusing to reveal the names of the shamans, and nowadays for whenever something goes awry and an arbitrary, half-true connection is found between him and the event. He'd stood boldly for the first three cases of punishment, but after the realization that there were many more to come, his resolve soon crumbled and morphed into a deceitful wit, willing to lie and forsake for his own safety. [cont. in N&C]
[continued from above desc.] Chester was left bitter and reclusive as a result, and so he started avoiding both the palace and his family whenever he could. He only allowed himself to be the inquisitive felnine he used to be when he'd be far, far away from everyone he knew. As far as anyone else needed to know, the old Chester that everyone was familiar with was completely and utterly gone. Although Chester despised his mother more than anything in the world, he seldom voiced his true thoughts, and his bitterness toward his mother spread to include much of his siblings (and especially to Clementine, who seemed to be the apple of her eye). His isolation gave way to vitriolic callousness- no one, save for (ironically) his mother and his own familiar, was safe from his bitter, resentful hostility. Sometimes, he could be heard whispering away with Kas perched on his scarred shoulder, who remains his only true friend. Had his original nature not been so brutally suppressed, perhaps he could have had a less unfortunate fate. If he were not born in the Aesirith Royal family, he might have very well been left alone to ponder like he had always wanted, fervently investigating everything around him forevermore. Alas, Queen Decima seldom spares happy endings. --- - Extra information - - Chester's magic would be a solid 5/6; extremely gifted yet not to a divine level as foretold by the prophecy. It has since fallen out of disuse, and few so much as remember his former talent. - Although he may never admit it, the bitter prince developed a likeness to his mother. Though certainly not as violent or consumed by insanity, he's become paranoid and irritable in recent years, willing to lash out to anyone but the queen herself (for he knows the consequences) without much rationale. - Chester generally wouldn't show much interest in romantic relationships (or any sort of personal bond for that matter, platonic, romantic, or otherwise) - Despite being a little over adult age, Chester looks and acts young for their age. He's relatively lanky and is still in his "damn, this world sure has no meaning" phase and he's actually quite small. Without his horns/gills or his emblematic wing injury, few would ever guess he originated from the royal family. - part of his inconspicuousness comes from his preference to not go overboard with appearances- remaining a relatively scruffy, unadorned felnine even on formal occasions - Chester doesn't seem to be very affected by his injured wing, though his skill in flight has seen better days. during flight he usually veers to the left and needs to correct himself once in a while - much to the surprise of no one, Prince Chester isn't as well known or as favored by the queen as some of his peers. in a rather paradoxical opinion, he both is relieved by his lack of responsibility and attention however simultaneously resents his insignificance in the grand scheme of it all. - random fact; he's often described as being either a disgruntled stray cat or some sort of coyote or fox nowadays (partially due to his appearance). If he got his familiar in the present day, it'd likely be one of the aforementioned animals instead of a magpie. --- many are also surprised to see his quiet personality so contrasted by his much livelier familiar. - Notes - - I may edit this a bit and/or add more later + weed out typos. the overarching story is for the most part complete as is though - pretend the wings are batlike :’] - i forgor the talisman in the art whoops - side note about the wings, only his left wing has the leather patching. his right one only has minor scarring/tatters and seems to be in much better condition
