"Say that again."

The young prince took a deep breath, practically able to feel the icy fury emanating from his father’s turned back. "You heard right, Father. I have no desire to rule this kingdom."

King Maximillian Acorn turned, eyes narrowing in a mixture of cold anger and disgusted disbelief. "You would forsake your birthright?"

"Let Sally be queen, Father," Elias pleaded, desperate to make his father see reason. "She has proven her capabilities under the worst of conditions, and more importantly, she wants the throne. All I want is my freedom."

"No!" King Acorn yelled, steel-blue eyes blazing. "You will not turn your back on the heritage that you were born to! I will not allow it!"

"Father, please! Listen to me!"

"I will waste no more time hearing of your selfish desires! We are finished here!"

"Father!"

"Return to your quarters, Elias," the king commanded, turning toward the doors with a flick of his royal blue cloak. "There will be no further discussion on the matter."

"No!"

That had been compulsive, and not part of Elias’ carefully thought-out plan of action. But it was too late to stop himself as he grabbed his father’s shoulder, forcing him to halt. He almost faltered at the fury clear on King Acorn’s face, but firmly forced himself to continue.

"No. You will hear me, Father, and I am telling you that I will not rule the kingdom of Acorn. There is nothing you can do about it."

King Acorn lashed out at his son, the pure suddenness of the backhand blow catching Elias by surprise as it struck him across the face.

"You presume to give me orders, boy?!" The aging monarch thundered. "I may be your father, but I am foremost your king, and you will obey me!"

Shock overcome by his own anger as he wiped away the blood he tasted in his mouth, Elias locked blue-grey stares with his father, eyes burning with defiance. "No, Father. I made my decision long ago. You can no sooner force me to take your place than you can force the sun to rise at night."

"Then get out!" King Acorn snarled, all traces of his usual calm demeanor completely lost in his fury. "If you would not rule this kingdom, if you have already deserted it in your heart, then go!"

"What?!"

"Prince Elias Acorn, you are henceforth exiled from Mobotropolis!"

The young prince nearly choked on the declaration, steely eyes widening in disbelief. Granted, he had expected his father to be unreasonable - in fact, that was why he had taken so long to tell King Acorn the truth - but this? Exile?!

"Go." King Acorn ordered coldly, drawing the Sword of Acorns at his belt and pointing it toward the door. "Get out of my kingdom. Get out of my sight."

"Elias!"

The adolescent royal turned at the sound of his sister’s voice, accompanied by the unmistakable whirring of Sonic Hedgehog’s high-speed sprint and Miles ‘Tails’ Prower’s helicopter-like tails. A rhythmic clanking betrayed the presence of Bunnie Rabbot as well, and where there was Bunnie, there was the lovelorn Antione D’Coolette. Elias waited for the group to catch up with him.

"So it is true?" Sally Acorn asked sadly, pointing to the rucksack and bedroll loaded onto her brother’s back.

"Bad news gets around quickly, I see," Elias replied, with a small sigh. "Yes, it’s true. And it’s my fault, really - I shouldn’t have left it so long. Still, I suppose you get to be queen now."

"Elias, please, stay!" Sally pleaded, grasping his hands. "Daddy will calm down in a few days, and eventually, he’ll accept your choice."

The prince shook his head, with a sort of undeniable finality. "It’s for the best. Hey, I probably would have left sooner or later anyway, anyway."

"Y’all sure, Sugah-prince?" Bunnie cocked her head to one side.

"Yeah," Sonic put in. "I mean - no offense or anything - but your dad’s been known to be...not quite himself...at times..."

Elias gave a mirthless smile. "Somehow, I don’t think he’s going to back down on this one. Listen, don’t feel bad about it. I’m getting what I wanted...more or less..."

"I find it hard to believe that you’re happy with this," Sally sighed. "But if you’re anywhere as stubborn as Daddy is, I suppose you’ve already made up your mind to leave."

A shrug. "Anyway, I should get going. Dad’s probably sending Geoffrey St. John to personally see me off, and quite frankly, I don’t want to give him the pleasure."

"Now that I can sympathize with," Sonic grinned, offering a hand. "Well...later, I s’pose. It was a rough start, but it’s been real."

"To say the least," Elias agreed, shaking firmly.

"’Bye, Prince Elias," Tails said, as the handshake passed to him. "I wish you could’a’ stayed longer. But you’ll come back when Princess Sally is queen, right?"

"We’ll see, Tails."

"So long, Yuh Highness. Y’all take care o’ yuhself now, boy."

"Sure, Bunnie."

"Au revior, Mon Capitan," Antione offered a salute. "We weesh you zee safe journey, wherever eet eez you are going."

"Thanks, Antione," Elias replied, returning the gesture. "It’s appreciated."

Sally was the last in line, regarding him with a sort of smug sadness. "You’re sure you won’t change your mind?"

"Positive," Elias replied. "Trust me - things will work out."

"I guess this is goodbye, then."

"Yeah. Listen, Sally...I know we didn’t get off to a good start either...and we didn’t get to know each other as well as either of us would have liked...but was nice having a little sister, you know?"

She gave a brief, bitter smile. "Yeah." There was a moment of awkwardness as Elias suddenly found himself wrapped in his sister’s embrace. "I know."

"You’re gonna make a great queen, Sally," Elias grinned as he disentangled himself, then added in a whisper, "and between you and me, Sonic’s gonna make a great king, right?"

Flushing, Sally elbowed him swiftly in the ribs. He grinned again.

"Well," he took a step back, and waved to the assembled group. "I guess...’bye..."

No reply forthcoming - not that he was expecting one - Prince Elias turned and headed toward the forest, turning now and then to wave to his sister and her companions. It was a shame he’d known so little of them...they were a strong and intelligent group, and their friendship and loyalty to each other was unwavering. That was going to serve Sally well when she took the throne - having them behind her made her so much stronger, gave her a faith she might otherwise have lacked.

He sighed. Could that be why he didn’t want the kingdom for himself? Granted, he had been excepted in Mobotropolis and Knothole as one of them, but he had never really belonged. He was a loner, and had been so all his life. He didn’t tell people what to do, and nor did he take orders from them. He didn’t command people or govern kingdoms or lead armies - it just wasn’t in his nature. He was certainly no king, and nor would he ever be.

So why couldn’t his father have accepted that?

He sighed again, tasting the energy of morning on the air, and put aside thoughts of home and the past. It was a new day. It was a new life.

Deceptively slender, delicate fingers drummed impatiently on the counter, gleaming claws the only betrayal of their canine owner’s true personality. Green eyes, half-closed under thick lashes and half-hidden behind an unruly fringe, were lit with irritation. A sandy-blonde plait that was as thick as her arm swung back-and-forth as she turned her head to regard the room, tail remaining passive but for the tiny yet somehow predatory flick of its very tip.

They must all know her by now. She had enough trouble avoiding recognition in the big cities of Mobius, and here, at the Bottom of the Barrel Bar ’N’ Grill, you either knew the competition, or you didn’t last very long. And as far as competition went, Jessalyn Oregon was a name (and a face) well-known amongst the low-lifes of Mobius’ criminal underbelly.

This was what she hated about meetings. Turn up early, and every bum in the place had fair warning you were in town. Turn up late, and the client has already left. Turn up on time - like she had now - and the client would be late. It was a no-win situation, the bounty hunter told herself with her usual cynicism. She should’ve just told the old guy where he could shove his offer...

And then where does that leave you? She berated herself. Back on the street corner she grew up, without a buck left for a decent meal...no, she’d had no choice but to take this deal. Since Ivo Robotnik’s death and King Acorn’s return to power, the competition had increased greatly, but the clients hadn’t. With the doc gone, there weren’t many villains left on Mobius who could afford to put out a bounty on someone, and those who could generally handled their own dirty work rather than give their wealth away. And to make matters worse, there was always some neophyte these days who’d try to jump in before you and end up giving your target enough warning to protect itself. Yeah, pickings were slim enough without rejecting what might be a perfectly good offer before even considering it...

Her thoughts were interrupted as the drink she had ordered finally appeared in front of her. She took a swig, wondering how long she’d have to wait for her contact to show up...

"Miss Oregon?"

She looked up from the drink, and found herself face-to-reflective lenses with a figure concealed by a trenchcoat, dark glasses and wide-brimmed hat. "’S been a long time since anybody called me ‘miss’."

"I contacted you earlier," the figure continued, and she gauged the voice carefully - male, adult, raspy and deep. "I apologize for my lateness."

"I couldn’t give a stuff about pleasantries," Jessa said curtly. "Get to what’s on offer."

He gestured for her to follow, then headed toward one of the private booths along the far wall. The dingo tossed a crumpled bill onto the counter and did so, one eyebrow arching down. There was something different about this character, something suspicious. Jessalyn had seen enough of people to know when they carried a hidden agenda.

"I will not insult your intelligence by asking if you are aware of the bounty on Prince Elias Acorn," her contact said, drawing the curtain that secluded the booth from the rest of the room.

"Sure," she snorted. "I was thinkin’ of goin’ after him. But he ain’t worth jack now that he’s been exiled."

"Not to anyone else."

She raised a shrewd eyebrow. "Oh?"

"The prince happens to be worth a great deal to me, exiled or not."

"Exactly what sorta stakes are we talkin’ here?"

"Money is of no import."

Jessalyn gave a low whistle. It wasn’t every day you came across a client like this - so long as he was genuine, of course.

"How do I know I can trust you?" She asked. "After all, we all know the story of Nack the Weasel..."

The trenchcoat shrugged, and several wads of bills rolled onto the table. Jessa couldn’t stop her eyes from lighting up as she carefully inspected a note with a practiced eye. They were perfect, she noticed as she scanned over the designs and markings. If they were forged, then they had been done flawlessly - no-one would be able to pick it.

"They are authentic," the client said. "And they are a fraction of what you will receive if you can bring me Prince Elias, alive and in one piece."

"The terms?"

"One million in advance, four million on delivery. All cash. I shall extend this offer to no-one else unless you fail, in which case, you get nothing. You may take the prince in any way you see fit, but do not kill him. If he dies, or if you attempt to cheat me, I shall have you hunted down and killed."

"Shouldn’t oughta be a problem," Jessa grinned wolfishly.

Two sheets of paper appeared on the table - a contract. "I will need you to sign this."

"Oh, you’re the serious type, huh? Good for you."

The bounty hunter picked up the sheets and quickly read through them - identical copies of the terms that had just been set out, one for each of them. Then, satisfied, she scrawled her signature onto them, as did her client. She folded one of the sheets up and slipped it into the pocket of her loose cargo pants, then looked up to see him holding out a small, white card.

"Contact me there when you have the prince," he told her. "I look forward to hearing from you."

"The advance pay?"

He lifted a briefcase from under the table and flipped it open. Jessa’s eyes skimmed the wadded bills contained therein, until, satisfied, she clicked the lid shut again.

"Nice doing business with you," she smiled, drawing the curtain open.

"And you," the client nodded as she left.

"Are you crazy?!"

We are never wrong.

"I can’t! That’s insane!"

You will do as we command. Have no fears - we will protect you.

"It’s not getting hurt that I’m worried about! You’re asking me to steal, and from the king, no less! How can I do that?!"

It is no longer intended for the king’s hand. His time as its bearer is past.

"But still..."

It must be as it was written - the Chosen One will -

"I know, I know. ‘The Chosen One will gather them, the Wanderer Prince and the Huntress, and the new moon shall herald the coming of The Chosen’. You’ve quoted it to me enough times. But why won’t you tell me any more of it? And why won’t you tell me who the Huntress is?"

That would be futile. Her name would mean nothing to you.

"Still, it would be nice to know..."

Time is in short supply, and there is none left for explaining. Now is the time to act. You must retrieve it, and you must take it to him. The lives that rest on your actions are countless.

"I just know I’m gonna regret this..."