The Problematic Prince

The central station of Kassen was lively with people, all were either victims of the derailed train, families of the victims, or exhausted volunteers. The platforms were a chaotic, unorganised mess of injured and luggage, It was a confusing mess.

   Bjorn stepped off the train from Schuber, his face emotionless. The noise and the fierce rush of cold air filled his ears. Ignoring it all, Bjorn strode through the crowds. His servant followed in his wake, desperately trying to not lose Bjorn in the crowd.

   Despite his wife being involved in a serious accident, Bjorn didn’t not appear as someone worried about a loved ones health. He simply weaved his way through the crowd, looking for the station master, once found, Bjorn listened intently to his report.

   The accident took place when an embankment wall broke and caused a mudslide to collide with the train. Some of the carriages were buried, so there is a highly likely chance that there are casualties. Unfortunately, the rescue operation was being hindered by snow and dense fog.

   “Can we still use the outbound line?” Bjorn asked, after listening to the station masters report.

   “Yes, there is a train scheduled to leave soon, but…”

   Before the station master could say anything else, Bjorn turned and rushed off to find the departing train. Bjorn sped through the crowd to where the train waited. He tried his best to avoid knocking people over, but it was inevitable and in his wake came the shouts of protest.

   “Prince, Prince,” Bjorn’s servant was calling after him. “Please, wait, I will tell Kassen of your presence, get their help.”

   “No,” Bjorn shouted over his shoulder as he found the southbound train. “We don’t have time for that.”

   The train was being laden with supplies to be taken to the relief effort. Without hesitation, Bjorn approached the engine.

   “Sir, can I sit with you?” Bjorn asked politely, standing on the steps into the drivers compartment. The man near jumped out of his skin.

   “Hey, young man, if you need passage, go to the square, do you know what the heck is going on…”

   “Of course I do, I need you to take me to the accident site, you’re going there, aren’t you? My wife…my wife was on that train.” His once calm eyes now begged and pleaded for the man to let him on.

   The train driver scratched the back of his neck and looked abashed. The wagons had been fully laden and was ready to depart, one of the controllers was waving to get the drivers attention.

   “Fine, but its going to be an uncomfortable ride, get on.”

Without any second thoughts, Bjorn quickly boarded the wagon housing the first aid kit. His bewildered attendants quickly trailed behind him. Once the door shut, the wagon departed towards the scene of the accident, wasting no time in its journey.

*.·:·.✧.·:·.*

“His Highness, the Grand Duke?”

   The Mayor of Kassen’s voice bellowed out through the barracks, where the command centre for the relief effort was situated. Startled by the news that the Prince of Lechen was at the scene of the accident and what’s more, he was demanding the list of survivors.

   The Mayor stepped out of the tent and could see a team of volunteers blocking the path of a very tall, platinum haired young man, who was physically trying to push his way past everyone.

   “Get out of the way, everyone, can’t you see he’s the Grand Duke?”

   Upon issuing the stern command, the volunteers stepped aside and looked embarrassed. The Prince hesitated and stepped toward the Mayor, who expressed a constant stream of apologies. He guided the Prince into the tent.

   “I apologise deeply, your Highness, we have been working none stop to rescue everyone that we could.”

   “The list, where is it?”

   Bjorn cut past all the formalities and made it clear that he had no patience for pleasantries right now. The Mayor took a clipboard from his assistant and offered it to Bjorn, he snatched it up like he was recovering a precious item from a pickpocket.

Bjorn’s gaze swept across the list, his eyes moving back and forth between the words “rescuer,” “wounded,” and “dead.”

   “We have not made much progress yet, your Highness, the weather is making things more difficult that it needs to be.”

   A hush fell over the command centre as Bjorn looked at all the names on the list. The only thing brave enough to break the silence was the shift of paper as Bjorn flicked through the pages. He went through the list several times, but could find no mention of Erna.

   Returning the list to the Mayor without so much as a thank you, Bjorn left the command centre and directed his attention toward the scene of the accident. The tail section of the train was completely buried, meaning that there were people entombed alive.

   The sight of the mangled and overturned carriages made Bjorn’s heart jump. The twisted wreckage served as a reminder of the devastation mud and rain could cause.

   “Your Highness, please come inside,” the Mayor said, trying to usher Bjorn back into the command centre, but the Prince remained motionless, fixated on the nightmare before him.

   The wailing cries of the volunteers mingled with the desperate screams of victims. The noise pierced the night air and was carried on a chilling wind. Occasionally, a stretcher who’s burden was completely covered in a white cloth could be seen, taking the victim to join the rest of the deceased. The sombre atmosphere weighed heavily on Bjorn, as he witnessed the heartbreaking aftermath.

   As darkness fell, the snow drifts started up again. The light of the rescuers became a feeble point against the dreadful night.

   “My Prince?”

   Bjorn’s servant got his attention to offer him an umbrella and regarded him with concern. It was in that moment that Bjorn became aware of the people that had gathered around him, as if they were seeking some sort of penance from him.

   Bjorn turned and went back into the barracks. With each deliberate step, his thoughts became more and more consumed by Erna, his thoughts of her occupying his mind.

   He could vividly see her, on the day he left for Schuber, standing resolute all the way until he could no longer see her from his carriage. Her soft brown hair and the hem of her skirts getting caught up in the wind and seemed like a final farewell.

   He reminisced about their time in Buford together. The comfort of the evening and the warmth of their companionship as they watched the snowmen melt away. It etched deeply into his heart and he felt serene whenever he thought of Erna.

   He wished he could have found a way to express the emotion in him, but he hesitated and now had to swallow those defiant words as he went back into the command centre. The snow intensified with each passing moment. It would undoubtedly be a challenging night.

   Erna. Every time he said the name, his breath rose. Some where out there, she laid bleeding and freezing, in some dark corner of that train. Bjorn’s heart cried out to her, called for her and she might be waiting for him, who would never arrive in time.

   Erna, his wife, was waiting for him and this time, he was determined to be there for her. His breath caught in his throat like he was being choked and the red hot anger now rising forced him out of inaction. He stood from his seat abruptly, causing those around him to gasp in shock.

   Ignoring their voices of protest, Bjorn left the command centre, unable to sit idle any more. He charged into the snow and ran toward the train, where the rescuers painstakingly worked to free the victims. Though the he could hear the voices of those behind him, begging him to return, Bjorn pressed on.

   He knew that patience was key in this situation, he understood that it was very unlikely that he would be able to find Erna, alone, amongst this mess, but there was no way he could let himself sit idle, while others worked so diligently. Erna was out here, somewhere.

   That one line of reasoning eradicated all other thought. He had to try, even if it was pointless. If he just sat and waited, how could he live with himself?

   “Your Highness, you shouldn’t…” Bjorn’s servants hurriedly tried to stop him, but one fierce look from Bjorn made the servant back away.

   Bjorn paused a moment, examining the train, trying to figure out where Erna could have been, but there was no obvious clues, so he headed for the first carriage. He climbed up onto the overturned carriage, gripping tightly to an iron rod provided by the rescue team.

   “Prince.”

   Even as the servant called after Bjorn, he used the iron bar to smash the window of the carriage and jumped into darkness.