Memoirs of a Utopian King

In which I explain my tests as Prince

January 23, 2918 – 887th Year of the Utopian Era

The day grows near. I am now twenty years old… In a year I will undergo the ceremony that will make me king. My father has been teaching me all that he knows. Oddly I’m not nervous. My father said that he had been nervous… but then, I’m not my father am I?
He has been having me read several books lately. Books are the food of the mind.

“Son, books are like food, there is good, healthy food, and there is bad, harmful food,” he told me today, during our lessons.

In older kingdoms, that I have read of, the transition of the throne seems to always be violent, or, at the very least, stressful. For us, my people I mean, it has never been so. I wonder why that is? Father says that it is because we have learned from our mistakes.
I wonder what it will be like to be king… Ruler of all known worlds… Steward of this “Utopian Society” as my father calls it.
The other thing I’ve read lately is stories of utopian worlds of the past. Whether they are fictional or not is questionable since we believe the mind, and whatever comes from it, to be very real, but the authors who wrote them very well could have only imagined them and never seen them themselves.

But still, one has to ask questions… These “perfect societies” are never what they seem, yet to me our society seems to be as perfect as it possibly could be. There are no mind control schemes, no “big brothers” (as some Old World data entries call them) watching, no nests of flesh eating humans hiding amongst us… There is nothing to suggest that these worlds were ever more real than fairy tales and fables we read to our young.

Perhaps the fear that had captured the Old World (when it comes to creating a Utopia I mean) was really only the fear of perfection. They were such an industrious people… Maybe the fear of the world being perfect (and thus no more need for improvement) was too much for them to conceive so the great minds of their time wrote such notions off as evil or, at the very least, dangerous.

These are questions that I will save for father tomorrow… Now I must sleep, the tests of the morning, and of the night, will be strenuous.

January 24, 2918 – 887th Year of the Utopian Era

As I suspected the night proved eventful. The dreams, my father says all rulers have them, were there again. I have such strange dreams. Father warns against writing them down lest, and a small lest it is, some scholar find them in the future and be able to know the mind of the king.

“Dreams are the gateway to the mind, the mind is the door to the soul, and the soul is the heart of a man.”
- William Marconin (Insight to the Person circa 2172)

My father quotes Marconin often, not odd seeing that he was the founder of this society. I do find it odd, however, that I am told to record my thoughts but not my dreams. Are not dreams just an extension of thought? Thoughts in the subconscious? Ah… I wish I had all the answers. My father does… but only after I undergo the ceremony will I know all that I need to know. I believe that one never knows more than he needs in order to survive. Luckily, since I love knowledge, as king I need to know everything in order to survive. Survive, in this case, meaning successfully continuing the Society.

On to the thoughts of the day and off of the events of the evening…

The tests were not as difficult as I imagined they’d be. My mind is growing. The Ithon’s Sphere and the Hondonin Cube operated on basically the same principles making them easy to solve after I got to the core of the problem. I feel as if all of my training is preparing me for something more than just the throne.

All of the tests lead to a certain train of thought. One that I find odd since it goes against what we all believe from birth. Surprises are not uncommon. That is the idea. Odd, no? There are no surprises in my world… So why would all of the previous rulers have designed tests for their successors to solve that involved illogical and strange events?

Is there perhaps some surprise awaiting me as king? No…. Surely father would have told me. I should put these thoughts from my head. Thinking, though productive in every form, can still produce destruction. The mind can only take so much thought at each level. I am reaching that point in this entry. Luckily the weekend follows this evening and I will have time to reflect freely without having to divert strong attention towards the tests of kingship. I must only survive the dreams.

“Dreams can make a man and Dreams can break a man” - William Marconin (Insight to the Person circa 2172)


January 24, 2918 – 887th Year of the Utopian Era

It is morning. I cannot go out yet without recording this thought. My dreams are growing more real. I know this to be a normal occurrence for this time of my life, but yet it disturbs me. I have the desire to share my dreams with a Scholar so that he could analyze them but it is too dangerous. Father says that dreams can lead to terrible things. Terrible things have not happened in 887 years. I will not be the one to change that. But yet the desire is there. The desire to know more (not the desire to bring about terror) is growing each night. Father knows of this desire and has assured me that it is normal. Mother knows nothing of my dreams. She cannot know… Her mind is not as strong and she may try and learn what it is that I dream of; her desire for knowledge may surpass her mental state of reason. After all, many would wish to look into the deep mysteries of a prince’s mind. A prince who will be King.

The day was long… Not stressful… but long. I spent my afternoon in the Market District browsing the new merchandise that came in today. Every twenty fourth day of the month we get new product. I don’t know exactly where from… From outside is what the traders say. Father knows I’m sure. He’ll tell me soon. Outside is such an odd place. I’ve been there… Once.

I was twelve. Father was locked in the Conscience Meeting for the week, and it gave me a chance to learn new things. Learning on your own is not frowned upon, but too much learning without guidance can lead to what the Scholars call “dangerous ideas.” These ideas could tear apart our people; ruin our Utopia, so they say… Father has told me that nothing could do such a thing.

He is different than previous rulers, from what I’ve read anyways. Most rulers lived in The City with no desire to do more than rule. He wishes to expand… His rule has set things in place, he tells me, that I will be able to act upon. Having been outside however I do not know that I wish to expand into it. It is not like our city at all. It appears war torn, at least as far as my understanding of war torn allows me to define it as… Things seem so dead. I wasn’t frightened however… I remember it was as if I had stepped from life into death. Heaven to hell, as religious texts from the Old World would say. I wonder if my father has ever been outside. I’m sure he has been…