The Solune Prince: Alice and Finch; or Posters Part1

The Solune Prince

Novella 1

Chapter 5: Alice and Finch; or Posters Part1

Why did I let her go?

Because I did not have an answer for her.

What do I do now?

Find a reason, and give it to her. Figure out what will entice her to join
Certainly she has not given the offer a fair chance.


When Chloe finally came back to reality, she was extremely disoriented. She opened her eyes and looked around, getting a feel for her situation. It was still afternoon. She was still in the market. The sounds returned to her, the bustle of trade. She had unconsciously moved to a bench. There was a child on the bench with her, and he was poking her face. She was so tall, however, that the child had to stand on the bench to reach.

Chloe didn’t like this, so she told him to stop. He sort of yelped and then ran away. As usual, she recounted that which was useful from her bout of deep thought.

Alexandre did not say “no!” she said, and rather arbitrarily, that she was not going to work for the castle. I said that it was an expedition, and all she had said was, “So?”

Chloe held onto the fragment of hope.


The sun was setting by the time she reached the western-central residential district. To her surprise, Chloe ran into Alice. Or, more appropriately, Alice almost ran into her, tripped in the act of avoidance, and gallantly turned to apologise.

“Sorry madam—oh hi!”

“Alice, what brings you here?”

“Going home, evening shift’s starting almost soon now.”

“Hmm, well, I am going to visit Finch again.”


“Alexandre Dirge was… difficult.”

“Oh, let’s go then!”

Then, unceremoniously, Alice grabbed Chloe by the hand, and she was forced into running. Chloe didn’t have much trouble up through, due to the difference in leg length. She is so much shorter than me, while Alexandre…

Very soon they did reach Alice and Finch’s home, and Chloe was able to have her discussion.


“She must have been in a bad mood”

“Is she always in a bad mood?” Chloe retorted.

“Ah, well, truly; she’s been conditioned to see the bad in the world. But do you think there was anything specific?”

“She was trying to buy a sword.”

Finch frowned. “I guess you interrupted the exchange with your offer.”


“Well, maybe she took it as a bribe? You, as the Fifth Prince, could easily get the sword for her.”

“What!” Chloe stood up. “Why would she take that as a bribe! I was not even going to do that, and even if I was it would be fair payment for a job! An…”

“An advance!” Alice finished.

Finch’s eyes tightened. “Didn’t I just tell you that she sees the world—”

“Hang on!” Chloe shut her eyes. She didn’t hear them anymore.

Alexandre “Jutt” Dirge. What has Finch told me about her?
Negative perspective.
I mean in the past.
She’s half Solune. Very tall. Taking a Masters in Kemia.
She was a gang member for a while, right?
She started the Murdock-Baracus gang wars.

“Why did she start the Murdock-Baracus gang war?”


Alice became starry-eyed. “To save her mother!”

Chloe frowned. “I would have her on my expedition.”

“Umm, okay…” Finch was lost, but this was not the fist time he’d missed a few steps in conversation with Chloe Rhye.

“Yes!” Alice jumped, shaking the house.

“But, if she is to be this volatile all the time, it will make problems with the rest of the team. Talent is nothing if one is anti-social and unable to apply it.”

“Well, she’s not anti-social, not technically.”

“She’s nice!”

“Not technically? Is that a fact?” Chloe eyed him calmly.

“I mean, no but…” There was a minutes long silence, “maybe…”

“She’s just having problems with teacher!” Alice cut in.

“Professors,” corrected Finch.

“And writing her Masters final paper essay!”

“Masters Thesis.”

“You just have to learn how she is and she’s fine.”

“What a strange family you have Finch,” Chloe said, “I do not know if I should take Alexandre after all though. Do you think there is, ah, that there’s something wrong with her?”

Alice kept a neutral expression, but Finch spoke, “I know there’s something wrong with her, but look at what she’s done anyway!”

Chloe sat back down. She closed her eyes to think, but nothing happened. She would have to move with intuition; Limbic Thinking.

“How do I get Alexandre on my expedition, and how do I control her once she is on it.”

“Get to know her!” Alice said.

Finch said, “Set it up as a challenge. Give her a threshold, something that could stop her from actually being able to go.”

Chloe took a breath. “I, ah, I really do no know…”

“Posters!” Alice shouted, excited.


“Yes!” Finch said, “Advertise, you’re so smart Alice! You need a whole expedition team! Send out a general advertisement—”

“One with high standards, something that might compel Alexandre,” Chloe finished.

“That’s actually a good idea,” said Finch, “put up some notices around the academy, namely the cafeteria and the Philosophy of Kemia building.”

“Although, probably you want everywhere,” Alice added, “so she doesn’t think it’s targeting her. Oh! She’ll think that since she said no, that you gave up on her and are doing this for that reason instead, wow!”

Chloe laughed, then said, “We will, ah, we’ll make her come to us instead of the other way around. Ah, now, how do we actually do all this?”

“Well, since we don’t have a printing press, so I would say by hand,” said Finch.

Alice jumped again, knocking over her chair and shaking the house. “Wonderful! I’ll help!” She bared her teeth, and they left the little house to get craft supplies.


The walk was fairly short, and over it they discussed what criteria they would list as requirements.

“So, Kemia, Anthropology, History, or Biology, right?” Finch asked.

“Maybe open it up to the Liberal Arts kids too,” said Chloe.


By the time they had returned, they had a good idea what they were looking for in an expedition member. When Finch brought up that the standards might be to broad, Chloe decided to add even more qualifications. At the end, they made about fifteen posters that each read:

Help Wanted – Work for the Castle

Summer position working for the Royal Family regarding international relations and cultural research.

Paid position. Travel required.

Academic Qualifications, One of: Biology, Kemia, Anthro, Solune History, Liberal Arts.

Other Qualifications Needed: Preferably a completed undergraduate.

Also Required: Some combat/self defense experience.

This is to be a dangerous exploratory excursion to the Lussa Kingdom. There is currently a political conflict, potential for a civil war. We would remain if any conflict breaks out, and potentially provide aid through knowledge or forces.

Finch asked, “Why does it say, ‘work for the castle’?”

“To see how Alexandre takes it.”

“And fighting experience, and all that about maybe a war? You won’t get a lot of people with that; not at a university!” Alice said.

“I know that, but you said that she was in conflicts before, so she must have something. Also, it’s better that they don’t make the expedition guards’ job harder. I’m sure we will find some people.”

Alice clapped with glee.

Daniel Triumph.

Table of Contents

Link to Alice and Finch; my first novel.


Alexandre’s Inquiry

3 Primary Dawn II

Class started, and the professor, Dr. Straker, introduced the topic in possibly the least interesting way possible. Finch whispered, informing his cousin that Reighleigh Straker was one of those professors that only cared about the research aspect of being a professor, and autopiloted through the teaching part.

He wrote the course code on the board, and then said, “I wrote the course code in calcium carbonate. That’s a chemistry joke. Don’t expect any more.” It would be the only joke or anecdote he would give for the entire year.

Alexandre sighed. She would have to get used to it. “Could I skip class and just read the textbook do you think?”

Before Finch could tell her how terrible an idea that was, someone came in late. She was tall, very light skinned, and wore her blonde hair extremely long. Finch had never seen her before, so he figured she was another first year. He noticed that she also wore a metal headband, something like a white-gold tiara. He wondered what it meant. She was also dressed entirely in black, complete with a high-necked top and leather pants. Her belt was studded. She looked like a metalhead, Finch thought.

“Feel free to sit down,” said the professor.

She looked around the class, locked eyes with Finch, and then sat near him on the other side of Alexandre.  Their classroom was large, too large, and as a result, it was only half full. And despite this, she sat down right across Alexandre. They sat, listening to the drone carry on about nothing. Finch whispered that his first classes were notoriously pointless. The tiara-wearing newcomer whispered back to him.

[The writer got up to use the washroom and put on a playlist. Specifically this one:]

“If that’s the case, why haven’t you left yet?”

Her expression was smug, and Finch didn’t know how to reply. Alexandre did instead.

“Politeness, I guess.”

“Hmph.” The woman turned to the front.

They were all near the centre of the room closer to the door. The class passed by very slowly after that. Finch didn’t bother to take notes.

4 Primary Dawn III

Finch woke up to a hand on his shoulder.

“You have to tell me where this one is or I’ll get lost again.”

He opened his eyes and looked around. It was Jutt. He rubbed them and looked at her sheet again.

“Ah…  Right, this one is in the same building as mine. I can show you.”

They went to the Criticism and Law building. Finch didn’t notice that the woman from before followed them, but Alexandre did. She was trained for things like this. The building was in noticeable disrepair. When they went in, it was clear by the rags and buckets that the building probably had a leak. The walls probably used to be white, now they were smoke-beige.

Finch led Alexandre, and subsequently also tiara-woman, to the second floor. The building was rather open-concept, and the second floor’s halls doubled as parallel balconies to the first floor. The ceiling was peaked like a cathedral.

“Make sure you go on the left side. Look, these…balconies don’t connect except at either end, so if you go down the wrong one, you have to come all the way back or go to the other end.”

“This building is quite gothic.”


“Look, there are even rose windows on either end.”

“Please Jutt.”


“What is gothic?”

“Oh, it’s a style of architecture that’s cathedral-like, irregular, and cavernous. That’s about all I know, other than it’s also a fashion style characterized by an excess of black.”

“Gothic architecture attempts to use masonry and glass to simulate the light that passes through the trees, the feelings of intimacy with nature. They don’t necessarily succeed, but it’s an admirable effort.”

The two stopped and turned to who was speaking. It was the girl from before.

“Were you following us?” Finch said.

“She was. I could hear her.” Alexandre said.

The stalker frowned.

“What is your name, Lussa?” Alexandre asked.

“I’m Lunesca.”

“That’s an awful name.”

“I know! Call me Lune.”

“That’s also pretty bad,” prodded Alexandre, “my name is Alexandre Dirge.”

“Yeah, you’re the criminal gang lord, right?”

Alexandre said nothing.

“I thought so. Alexandre? What? That’s, like, three syllables. You’re… you’re Lex.”

“Am I?”

“You are now.”

Finch wanted to say that she already had a nickname, but he was quite intimidated by the women, so he said nothing.

Four people exited the nearby classroom. Finch showed Alexandre the door (it happened to be the same door that was recently evacuated) and then he headed to his own class.

The course in question was quite unique. It was called, “Science, is it useful?” and it covered the opinions of influential natural studies philosophers and other thinkers, and ended on the concept of science and the flaws of the proposed “scientific method” and why it was ultimately rejected in favour of the ancient natural studies. Finch, of course, was more interested in the scientific method than the natural method, or the dialectic method.

Table of Contents

The First of Many

After my previous “avant-garde” poetic endeavour, I figured I’d share another one. This is, of course, dedicated to the person I wrote it for.


“I feel it only necessary to preface a work such as this with a quote.” – [Name Removed]

[Waves] [Close our eyes and count slow,] (Falling Up) (Falling Up)
[In this moment things are getting dangerous.
Oh no.
I can’t find my way.
All these things that left me in their waiting.
—I keep shaking], [feel the wounds (Falling Up)
Hold my hands cradling all the souls] (Falling Up)
But [your body’s empty now,
As I hold you—now gone I miss you,
But I TOLD you—
I remember the bad times,
More than the good.] (Megadeth)
There’s a short list
Of things “I should!”
[I loved you to Death…
I loved you to DETH!] (Megadeth) Continue reading “The First of Many”

Rae, Who Wrestles





Hey man, this isn’t about you.
· I
· AM

· · LORD


Daniel Triumph.

For more oddball poetry featuring Janna Rhye, try Wavering draft 3

P.S. if you see any spelling mistakes, please tell me, I can’t spell check this poem at all.

Stories from the Greatest Knight in Modern History

If you’ve been on this site for a long time, you know that I love not just classics, but also the forerunners in the Novel genre. Some of the first Novels ever written were Robinson Crusoe, Gulliver’s Travels and Don Quixote. Both were preceded by a plethora of Greek Novels that I’ve fallen in love with, like Callirhoe and Daphnis and Chloe, and even works I’m not so interested in, such as The Golden Ass. As fun and interesting as those Greek Novels were, they were very archetypal, that is, typical of the technical comedy genre.

The more modern novels like Don Quixote (written in 1612 by Miguel De Cervantes), hold premises that to this day remain unique. Don Quixote is an old man living in a world that has recently grown out of medieval Knights and Kings. He decides to become a knight, and bring back chivalry, donning his grandfather’s rusted armour, mounting his horse, and recruiting his neighbour Sancho Panza. These extra chapters were written by a guest writer, and edited by me and some of my friends.

Writer: Andrew Triumph
Editor(s): Daniel Triumph
and Maya Singh

Don Quixote Punishes a Thief

Don Quixote and his squire Sancho Panza were complimenting their latest adventure just as the sun passed its highest point. On their most recent quest to right the wrong, help the needy, and loot any fallen foe to get in their way, Quixote had encountered an especially tough opponent, one who had no knowledge of Quixote’s noble intentions. It was this ignorance that had led the man to a swift defeat when Quixote hit him on the head with his lance.

Honoré Daumier  1808 – 1879

After the skirmish, Quixote found that the tough part of this encounter was not defeating the enemy, but rather the recovering of the sack that had been dropped. The loot in question had fallen down a hole. Thinking quickly, Don Quixote ordered his squire to retrieve their prize.

Sancho Panza usually had his ass do all  of his work. The ass dutifully went into the ditch, but the mule couldn’t pick up the sack, nor could it get out of the hole on his own. It was because of this that Sancho was forced to not only retrieve the sack, which Quixote had claimed to contain stolen goods, but also his heavy mule.

Being the kind of man he was, Sancho resisted his duty immediately, saying that they had done enough knightly justice by punishing the offender, and that it was up to the victim to retrieve his own goods. This protest was swiftly refuted. Quixote explained that, because the thief had fallen to him, a knight, the stolen goods were now rightfully his. He added that due to both the knightly code and as reward for their good deeds, the stolen goods were now rightfully his. Though Sancho knew little of the knightly code, he knew much of his rights as a squire. He knew that the spoils therefore rightfully his.

It was this reflection that motivated Sancho to fumble down the hole, grab the bag, and climb back up. He had to catch his breath before falling down the hole again. When Sancho had reached the bottom, he realized that he wasn’t going to be able to move his mule. While Sancho pondered how he could possibly move so stout a creature, the ass trotted out of the hole.

Once Sancho climbed out, he noticed that Quixote had already started down the path ahead. Sancho mounted his ass and caught up. While they rode, Sancho dug into the contents of the bag. In it, he saw a couple of silver reals, a poorly made wooden sculpture, a pendant, and a pair of cotton gloves.

“Are you sure it was a thief?” Sancho asked.

“Of course!” Quixote replied, “his apparel made it obvious.”

Sancho didn’t remember seeing anything strange about the stranger’s was clothing, but this explanation satisfied him. He took the reals out of the sack and put them in one of his bags, then he handed the sack to Quixote, who took it and examined the contents.

“I admit that he mustn’t have been a good thief,” Don Quixote said as he put on the gloves, “none of these items are worth thieving.”

Don Quixote Fights a Witch

The sun had begun its decent and the clouds were spread across the sky as Quixote and his squire rode into an overgrown field. A lonely figure stood in the center, surrounded by a sea of grass. It was waist high. Sancho found the scene quite relaxing; pink dusk contrasting green grass, a forest separating it from the horizon. The scene, as well has his previous tumble with certain holes, were enough to make Sancho quite drowsy.


Honoré Daumier  1808 – 1879

“Don’t fall asleep!” Quixote warned his squire, “For you won’t wake again if you do.”

Just before Sancho could get any words out of his yawning mouth, Quixote explained, “You are under the witch’s spell, it will drain your soul from slumber.”

“What witch?” Sancho asked.

“That witch there!” Quixote exclaimed under his voice.

“I don’t see any witch.”

“She has gotten to your perception already. Stay here, and I will sneak up to her before she can hex me away.”

Sancho nodded and pulled out a loaf of bread. He watched Quixote dismount his horse and crawl towards the figure in the field. Now alone, he took the opportunity to break wind.

It was on his third bite of the bread that he could no longer see Quixote’s figure among the grass. He had eaten half of the loaf when he saw Quixote rise behind the figure in the distance.

“In the name of Dulcinea del Toboso and all that is right, I smite thee, most vile and wretched being!” Quixote lifted his lance with both hands and brought it down hard upon the figure. A great spray of dust arose, the figure’s head fell off and plopped to the ground.

Bewildered by this sudden act of decapitation, Sancho hurried his ass to Quixote and the headless figure. As he approached, he saw what had been supporting the figure — a single leg that, until now, was hidden in the grass.

“It’s a scarecrow,” Sancho said.

“It is now,” Quixote explained, becoming quite tired of Sancho’s persistent ignorance, “have you learned nothing from our encounter with the Giants? The witch must have turned herself into a scarecrow just like how she turned those Giants into windmills, right before my lance’s strike.”

Sancho ate the rest of his loaf.

“This sorcery has been her very undoing.  She will not be able to turn back to her ungodly form to continue her evil deeds for she will exsanguinate if she tries to change back without a head.” Quixote explained all of this slowly to make sure Sancho did not become too confused. He took the sorcerer’s twine-bound head in his arms and gave it to his squire to stow away as proof of his chivalrous act. “One less witch to torment this land.”

With both the world and Sancho’s mistake righted once again, Quixote set up camp and they fell asleep.

Alexandre Gabriel Decamps 1803 – 1860

Andrew Triumph

Thank you for coming to read this post from my blog’s first guest writer!

Please come back next Thursday for the next chapter of The Solune Prince.