So here our hero potters along - smooth stone paths in the warm night, red lanterns hanging from homes, he hears the people in his heart, the chanting, oh the chanting! What glory and celebration that this treasure - tucked safely under his arm, will bring such a brilliant prince to be! A young boy, not yet a man, born in the very dust of these streets - now strides them with confidence and virtuous pride. He is dressed head to toe as modestly and as regal as a citizen of his little wealth can muster, fine silken - faded purple robes, long since thrown away by a high ranking officer to be reclaimed by our boy! A size too big perhaps but it is barely noticeable when one so guaranteedly happens to gaze upon his curiously handsome features, and there is no better suitor, no one more worthy than he to lead the people into a new era of peace of prosperity. A commoner to finally build a bridge across the many chaotic, clashing classes of this distraught land!

‘Oh dear I really should hurry before it becomes too late in the evening to make a meeting with representatives of the royals. I do hope that my attire is appropriate, heavens I absolutely must make a good impression as I deliver this monumental news! I wouldn't want to miss my chance at rallying a real change for good here, in this city that I love so... Surely the nobles cannot label me as a fool with dumb luck. No no no, don’t think like that, It will be ok Elgar, you've spent your whole life in preparation for this moment, all those countless hours borrowing books from the library wagon, reading up on the royal lineage and history as far back as time goes. Foster daddy would always say: “aspirations are not without wisdom”. Yes - this time WILL be different.’

‘Hobble-scotch and fiddle bottoms!’