Many years passed, the deep gash wound had healed. The prince survived the almost fatal ordeal and the hunt and curse long forgotten. The prince was crowned king. The huge tusks which were pried out and polished, proudly worn around his neck on his coronation as a testament of his majesty and prowess and as talisman for an auspicious reign, a time of peace and abundance filled with festivities and boar hunting. Yes, boar hunting the remnants was safe sport, tasty bacon and great fun.
During one of his hunting trips around the northern foothill of Jerai Mountain, he was awaken from his deep slumber by a melodious siren song wafting through the dark forest. He walked towards the singing and the bushes seemed to part before him and a staircase magically appeared to lead him to the source of the singing. The staircase is today known as Tangga Seribu Tahun or Tangga Kenari.
He came upon the most beautiful maiden who literally took his breath away. He quietly sat on one of the boulders and surreptitiously watched on her. The maiden was bathing in the enchanted crimson Puteri Pool. Her oval face, demure and radiant, slightly blushed cheeks with dimples. Her sparkling dark eyes lively and warm. Her delicate nose unblemished above her sweet pink lips. Her long ink black hair shone in the watery moonlight covered her supple generous breasts. Her body sensually curved. Her skin pure and smooth, glowing pale ivory. He was mesmerized by her singing and captivated by her beauty and in love the moment he saw her. She was indeed stunningly beautiful. In fact, many would affirm, more beautiful the legendary Helen of Troy. A deadly siren she was not.
She was suddenly conscious of someone watching behind and her palms reflexively covered her breasts as she tentatively turned around. The prince had furtively stepped out from his hiding. She was however not surprised or frightened. There was neither anxiety nor fear in her eyes as if her wait was over and the handsome prince in her dream had appeared before her. Her heart echoed his thunderous heart beats. He confidently waded into the pool, lovingly caressed away her protective palms and put his hands around her sensuous waist and drew her nearer.
Their bodies touched and she shivered from his gentle caress. He lifted her chin and her affectionate eyes met his hungry gaze. Their lips drew together, and his tongue sought lustfully for hers. She melted into his warm embrace. The cool water could not quenched their passionate tempest that night.
He whisked her back to his palace and soon she was with a child. Their happy days were unfortunately short and quickly turned anxious. Late into her pregnancy, her body began to wither suddenly. Physicians could not diagnose her ailment. Shamans were of no help either. She was soon bed ridden. Her health continued to deteriorate rapidly, her radiance dimmed sickly as if her very life was being sucked from within her. Strangely, her baby in her womb was unaffected by her ailment, he was viable, vibrant and very much alive.
Sadly, she died in child birth. Her face was pale, cheeks sunken, mouth opened, eyes opened unseeing and body drained dry but she was still beautiful to behold nonetheless. The king interred her in a pure white marble sarcophagus to protect her from further decay. With the love of his life gone, the king lost interest in life, withdrawn and listless. He seemed to age overnight, gaunt, muscular frame atrophied, his hair and beard turning white and skin turned pale. His intense eyes turned empty and lifeless. He would spent most of his waking hours beside her sarcophagus whispering intimately with her. At night, he would sleep walk glassy-eyed searching for her in his dreams. Shamans suspected sorcery and witchery.
When the prince was born the royal mid wife noticed that his umbilical cord was already severed, as if bitten off. Oddly, the maiden’s body was bloodless, her skin sallow. Shamans were summoned to read the bones and tea leaves. They saw ominous dark cloud with much blood letting and death. Fearing the king’s wrath for such portentous omen, they proclaimed that “All’s well and the baby will grow up into a fine prince, a mighty warrior.”
A royal nursemaid was appointed to nurse the prince. However, the prince refused to be breast fed and grew weaker each day. With prince’s health imperil and her head at stake, the nursemaid sought help from the mid wife. She remembered the severed umbilical cord and bloodless body, suspected the prince lusted blood. Out of desperation, the nursemaid nicked her nipple to draw blood mixed with her milk and fed it to the prince. The prince was reinvigorated and sucked hungrily, and soon regained his health.
His voracious appetite and lust for blood grew insatiable. Initial drop or two into his food during his infancy soon turned into ladle full and by the time he reached his age majority prisoners were being sacrificed, hung from their feet upside down with the fatal jugular cut to drain every drop of blood into a white earthen pot below. He preferred the blood fresh, still warm and crimson. His blood lust aberration was tolerated by the nobles for he was still the king’s only son and heir to the throne. Furthermore, he brought home his own dinner. Actually, the nobles feared him.
The prince had grown into a ferocious warrior, fearless in battles and vicious and without mercy in victories, and had brought back much plunder and glory, many slaves and prisoners of war. Rumors abounded that he took pleasure in an orgy bloodletting and feasting on the hearts of his slain enemies after each victory. He was also reputed to be a skilled hunter, a kill with every throw of his spear, and who always enjoy his boars raw and bloody. His treasured necklace crafted from tusks from all the boars he had killed grew longer with each hunt. His incisors too started to grow longer, menacing.