Shiva Keswick

Male | 25 |Heterosexual

Born into the royal family of the Kingdom of Reyes, Shiva grew up prosperous and doted on. He is the eldest of three children, making him the heir to the throne. He has lived his entire life within the walls of the palace, except for the occasional business trips and treaty meetings.

Personality

Shiva is for the most part good-natured and patient. He may have been spoiled and doted on from the moment he was born, but he still knows what it means to give respect and be respected. With that being said, he carries with him a confident and slightly arrogant air, often feeling as if he is to be treated with respect at all times, regardless of if he truly deserves it or not. He is very intellectual when it comes to general knowledge contained in books, studies, or kingdoms, but is blind to most common knowledge given to those outside the palace walls. He doesn't know how to survive on his own, always having had people to aid him in making decisions or making things for him. That being said, he is decently trained in weaponry, able to carry and wield a variety of them with some skill.

The prince is by nature a gentle soul, kind to any he meets upon first introduction unless provoked. He is intimidated easily by things he doesn't understand, often prompting him to become anxious and unpredictable in those situations. He is a man of plan and order, and when things go unaccording to those plans he becomes stressed.

For the most part, Shiva prefers his solitude, often easily annoyed by servants constantly bothering him. He doesn't like to mess with his political duties, although he still takes them seriously. He likes to have his space and be unbothered, preferring to study on his own time and learn things.

Likes

-Reading/Studying

-Solitude

-The comfort of familiarty

-Jewelry/Extravagant things

-Having authority

-Rain

-Night | Stars | Moon

-Archery

-Animals

Dislikes/Fears

-Being disrespected

-Feeling angry

-Being completely isolated/alone/stranded

-Magic/Sorcery

-Bright lights

-Heat

-Loud / Busy environments

Appearance

Shiva is fairly tall, standing around 6'3. He is well toned and healthy looking, having been properly fed and cared for his entire life. His skin is a little darker in color, but cool toned, decorated in soft, striped tattoos and lighter patterns of vitiligo. His hair is black, shimmering deep brown-purple in bright sunlight, falling around his face in waves that don't quite down to his shoulders. His face is slender and somewhat defined, yet still a carries with it a soft appearance. His eyes are a glittering deep mahogany in color.

His hands are large yet gentle, most often covered by dark fingerless gloves. His clothing is often comfortable yet extravagant, and he always is adorned in various jewelry. Multiple earrings dangle from his ears, as well as his fingers being covered with an assortment of rings; often colored black, gold, or silver. His neck is always decorated in more than one necklace, most of them thin chains with pretty jewels.

Strengths

-Book smart | Intelligent

-Patient

-Loyal

Weaknesses

-Arrogant | Spoiled

-No survival skills

-Anxious

Other/Family

-Father: King Magnus Keswick

-Mother: Queen Reina Keswick

-Brother: Silas Keswick

-Sister: Rosalie Keswick

It was quiet here. Too quiet. He didn't know much about the forests beyond the Kingdom, but he was smart enough to know that if the forest was silent...there was something wrong. Shiva reached down, gently patting the steed upon which he rode, trying to calm him. The white stallion's ears were pricked forward, flicking back as his tail swatted anxiously behind him. His front hooves alternated nervously on the ground.

"We must pass through," The voice of one of his guards spoke softly. "Any alternate route now would delay us by days. We don't have that time." The prince glanced nervously at the rest of the men around him, unsure but trusting. There were enough of them here, surely five men was enough to deter whatever creatures lay within?

"Alright," he said cautiously. "If we must." He didn't like how the horses were acting up, it was unusual and anxiety-inducing. He trusted their instincts, which only made him more nervous as he urged them forward. The forest was dark, evening having descended upon them. Every step the horses took seemed too loud, their hooves plodding through the underbrush, kicking up leaves and snapping sticks. Not even crickets could be heard chirping here. They continued for several miles, the woods much bigger and more expansive than he had imagined them to be. Even having studied maps as a child, he never could have pictured them to be so frightening and large.

Suddenly, the sound of an arrow whizzing by his head alerted him. It flew past him, plunging through the chest of the guard behind him, the man toppling from his horse with a heavy thud. The horses reared, their frightened calls echoing loudly and bouncing off the trees. Shiva grasped desperately at the reigns of his steed, his legs tightening around him in an attempt to stay on. More arrows flew, striking each guard with a single and precise hit. Each man that fell did not move anymore, seemingly dead before hitting the ground. Frightened, confused, and dazed, the prince pushed his horse forward, sprinting through the trees in a desperate attempt to escape.

"After him!" A voice yelled from behind, followed by the thundering sounds of more hooves. The horses from his guards....they'd been mounted. Ridden with panic, Shiva was silent, his heart hammering heavily within his chest. What could he do? Where could he go? How was he supposed to react? Would it be smart to call for help or would it only help his enemies locate him?

Who are these people and what do they want with me?! He thought, his fingers tightening around the reigns. He'd never stepped foot within these trees before, and as far as he knew Reyes had no major enemies...Aside from those who wield magic... He couldn't help but think, suddenly feeling even more terrified. They should have never come here. He should have been more persistent. He should have told them to take the extra days of travel. It would have been much better than the fate they now suffered. I've led them to their death. He thought, tears pricking at his eyes. And I'm next.

"Go boy, come on!" He urged his horse between panicked and labored breaths. Jarringly, he was suddenly flung forward, landing on the ground with a massive thud. The wind was knocked from him, and it was a miracle he was not crushed under the weight of his horse as it fell to the ground, a large and heavy arrow sticking out from it. Blood pooled around the ground, soaking the leaves. "No!" He screamed, his voice tattered and raw. Blinded by grief and shock, all survival instincts flew from him. He crawled quickly across the forest floor, scrambling to his fallen steed. His hands gripped into the coarse mane as he buried his face there, tears streaming from his eyes. This horse had been his for years, gifted to him as a colt and raised alongside him. Whatever spiritual tie they'd shared was now severed.

Pain erupted through his side as an arrow made its way into his skin, causing a loud yell of agony to slip from his throat. He collapsed fully to the ground, his mind dazed and whirling. "Please," He begged blindly, unable to see in the darkness that surrounded him. "Please have mercy..." He felt a pair of hands grip his shirt, pulling him slightly up off the ground, only to feel the bitter bite of a punch across the jaw. Ears ringing, all sound left from him. He could feel the warmth of blood seeping from his side and dripping from his nose. What little vision he did have was now completely gone, his body falling loosely back onto the ground as his mind faded to black.

The sounds of fighting around him were muffled, muted and distant as he slipped in and out of consciousness on the forest floor. He could feel the clutching of hands on his shirt, heaving him up slightly off of the ground, but he made no attempt to fight against it. His body was weak, blood soaking through his shirt, and his head throbbing with muted pain. His ears were still ringing, making everything hard to hear or retain. Before he knew it, he fully slipped into darkness, his mind silencing everything out.

~~~~~~

His brain awoke, his body welcoming the feel of a soft bed beneath him. His eyes still lay shut, too weak and still not fully conscious. The soft sound of a women's voice rang quietly in his ears, followed by a sharp pain erupting from his side. The action of the arrow being removed awoke him, his eyes flinging open as a sound of pain slipped from his throat. He was weak and dazed, the images around him blurry. He didn't move as he felt the soft touch of a hand cover his wound. A slow, warm, burning sensation tingled his side, causing him to squeeze his eyes and grit his teeth. He layed his head back, his body arching slightly into her touch as the burning continued. His breathing slipped through his teeth, his chest rising and falling with quick labored breaths until the sensation ceased.

The woman left his side, prompting him to reopen his eyes, his gaze following her movements silently. Taking a moment, he collected his thoughts and looked at his surroundings. His head throbbed in dull pain, and his entire body ached. He seemed to be within a cottage. It was homey, but nothing compared to what he was used to in the palace. He slowly pushed himself up into a seated position, his back against the headboard. Peering down at his side, he ran his fingers over the wound. Flinching at the touch he pulled his hand back, letting out a soft groan. He looked to the floor, spotting the arrow that had once been embedded in his flesh. Lifting his chin to study the woman who'd rescued him, a slow realization began to overtake him.

She healed me. He thought. Without stitches, without tools. A slight sense of fear bubbled within his chest as he stared at her, wariness glimmering in his warm gaze. "Who are you?" He spoke softly, his voice coarse and weak, trembling slightly. His throat burned, stinging from the yelling he'd done and whatever blood and fluids had trickled down from his nose. "Why...why am..w-why..." He struggled to find the words, confused and beginning to feel the sense of dread and panic returning from before. Where was he? Who was this woman? Why had she saved him? Why had she brought him here? Did she have any inkling as to who he was? Why had he been ambushed?

He lifted a hand, running it through his dark hair, taking a moments pause to breath and sort his thoughts. "You...you saved me," He started again, his voice low and quiet, yet hesitant. "Why? Who are you, where did you bring me?" He thought back to the attack, his thoughts whirling. "My men...my horse.." He trailed, a longing pain erupting within his chest. His friends, his guards, his steed...dead. He was alone. Alone with someone he didn't know, and someone who potentially could be a threat. He still had no clue as to how she'd healed him, his mind still of the thought that perhaps she'd simply used flame to cauterize the wound. The thought of magic tickled in the back of his mind, for he knew these woods to be cursed. However, he tried not to dwell on that fact, too afraid to know the truth.

Shiva hesitantly took the cup from her hands, his eyes watching her a little warily. At first he hadn't processed the name she'd given him, his mind still wandering and dazed, but upon her repeat he nodded. He listened to everything she had to say, falling silent. He could feel the sting of tears pricking at his eyes upon confirmation of his loved one's deaths. He gently raised the wooden cup to his lips, drinking the water she'd offered him. At this point he truly had nothing else to do but trust her. He was in her space, and she had saved him, afterall.

There were still many questions he had running through his mind. Why does she live in the middle of the dark forest? Does she live alone? How long as she been here? He tensed his jaw as she touched him again, applying the salve to his skin. He didn't jump this time, however. "My name is Shiva," He answered her question quietly, unsure how much information he was willing to divulge. What if she was someone who would also want him dead upon realizing who he was? But then again...maybe she could help him get home. If she'd slain his enemies...

"Shiva Keswick, Prince of Reyes..." He eyed her carefully, searching her face for some kind of reaction. He still wasn't sure if he could trust her, but he really had no other choice. "My father is King Magnus. I'm...I will be taking his place soon." He paused, swallowing back the lump in his throat. "I'm supposed to take his place soon, anyway." He glanced away for a moment, wondering what on earth was going to happen in the following days. If he survived, anyway. He and his men had been on the way to another Kingdom to discuss a potential alliance. Without this meeting taking place...he feared they may take his absence as a threat and declare some kind of war. "I really need to be on my way as soon as I possibly can," He stated, growing anxious thinking about it. "My...my people...my parents...they all face certain danger if I can't make an alliance. I was supposed to arrive tomorrow morning."

He gave a somewhat sheepish look in her direction. "They told me we needed to cross through the forest, for it was the fastest way there." He paused, his throat closing as his chest tightened. "They're dead now because of me. I just...let us come in." He found himself once again beginning to spiral, feeling immense guilt over the loss. He could have argued, he could have protested. They would have listened to him if he would have just spoken up! His lifelong companion lay dead in the grass, already an emptiness forming in his heart. That horse had meant everything to him.

"How long until the wound is healed?" He questioned. Not that she would know the answer, but he was almost desperate. He couldn't let any more people die because of his actions. Although normally a patient person, Shiva was beginning to feel as if he didn't have the time to sit and wait around for his body. He needed to go. Now.

"I can't stay here, I need to leave. I have to find some way to get there, I have to." He sat up a little more, wincing as pain flared through him. "The nobles are expecting me tomorrow, the King will be waiting. I can't let Reyes slip into war on my behalf." He began to panic, ridden with stress. "There's no men left behind to report what happened, no one will know. Not until they gather the courage to venture here and find the bodies left behind." If they're even still there. He thought. Who knows what vile creatures lay within these trees. So many men have lost their lives here, their bodies never to be found. How can I even hope to fix this?!

"Please," He said, his tone becoming more insistant. "I'll...I'll take whatever you can give or offer, I'll pay you whatever sum you ask in exchange for it, but I simply cannot wait around." He forced himself to stand, biting back the sounds of discomfort he so desperately wanted to release. The young prince wasn't sure if she'd even finished wrapping his wounds, for he'd been too wrapped up in his own mind to notice. His legs were weak, causing him to reach out and grab whatever was closest to steady himself, in turn knocking over a few small items that sat upon a near shelf. He still had his belt strapped around his waist, which held various small daggers. His sword and bow had been left behind at the scene of the ambush, flung from him as he'd fallen from his steed. Not used to being within any other social setting other than the palace, Shiva was blind to the ways of anyone else.

He was used to getting what he wanted or requested without a second thought or single protest.