Success in the Mind of a Noble

Nobility appears to have the unique distinction of having one of two focuses to the brain. They either a) focus on persuits of the mind out of boredom, or b) stagnate and allow the mind to degenerate through lack of use.

As the secondary bent is of such an alarming nature, I have spent a deal of time studying the mannerisms of the nobility. The most successful attempt at correction took place with a Prince. His name was Duncraft. He had had the fortunate (or unfortunate, depending on how one looks at it) life of a noble from birth. Royal blood, money and power had given him every thing he had ever desired at any time he desired it for his entire life. He was yearning for denial. His mind took a twisted turn, and he began to dabble in many bizarre and unnatural things in order to excite himself.

Entering his mind was difficult at first. It had not been used in many moons. The mind was a vast wasteland, where the past and memories and feelings had been buried in tombs covered with stone and protected by many guardians. They were motionless unless approached. I approached each and was denied admittance. I noticed that the vastness of the wasteland was limited to sight. There was an open tomb. It was covered with growth, mostly dead, and one vine with a bud on it. The bud was white. The tomb had the following inscription on the opening: I was once my favorite son, now there is no battle to be won. I gathered that there was a key to opening the tomb of desire. Once opened, it would bring new life to the otherwise desolate landscape. Inside the open tomb, there were three scarves. One was made of cobwebs, one was made of light and one was made of blood. I took all three of them and placed them on the tomb of desire. There was no reaction. The guardian there stood without moving, however, and I was able to approach the tomb enough to read the inscription. It read: Once open to the world above, closed now for lack of love.

I sat down and wrote on the ground all of the stories I had been told of love lost and love gained, of sorrow and joy and creatures and fantasies. I gave him every experience I could conjure up. Then, I asked the guardian to open the door. He did, and I left.

The Prince regained his desires and more. He did not desire what I gave to him, but more experience from life, which was all that he lacked in the first place.

What I learned from the attempt was that not all minds are difficult to aid and some are simply in stagnation. The nobility appear to be particularly afflicted with this particular problem. Unfortunately, they are more often than not completely unaware of their situation. It is through the desire of others that they are brought out.