Alabaster
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“Thank you, Baudouin,” I say in response to the message delivered by my servant.
“My pleasure.”
“You may leave. I can handle preparation myself.”
“Of course, m’lord.”
As Baudouin leaves the room, I swing my legs off of my bed and cross the room to my desk. My hands caress the alabaster inscriptions on the desk as my gaze lingers on the coronet gathering dust.
I have always found the crown a pain in the arse. It sits uncomfortably on my head, it is far too gaudy, I don’t like the colors. I could name a dozen reasons, but I’d honestly rather not. No time for that, anyway.
I snap my eyes from the coronet and reach into a drawer pulling out a piece of fine paper. Quite the commodity. I take an ink pot and quill from the drawer as I start getting my thoughts in order.
Why am I taking out writing utensils? Put simply, I need to organize my thoughts on paper and figure out this whole time loop thingamajig.
I appear to be stuck in some sort of circle. A loop might be a better word. A loop of time — a time loop.
Just yesterday- or today just… not today? Let’s just call it last cycle. Last cycle I woke up from a nightmare. No- not a nightmare. That must have been a cycle as well. I do not, however, seem to have any recollection from a cycle before then. We’ll call that the first cycle, then.
Alright, we’re getting somewhere. Just last cycle, we- I went through the day like normal. No, not normal. Father called a meeting, just as he is right now. After that, I went to bed and slept for hours. At some point, Baudouin informed me of a party. The banquet I ignored.
After that, I went back to sleep and was awoken once more to find the castle in flames. How, though? It must tie in to that banquet. Yes. I just have to go to the banquet. The banquet that ends in a massacre… Ok.
I set my pen back down, and cross to my wardrobe. My eyes glance over the chemise I wore yesterday- last cycle, and I don both it and the trousers from before. I skip over the cloak, however, as it would restrict movement in case of an emergency.
Exiting the room, I ignore the coronet for the second cycle in a row.
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I don’t take the time to consider the guards lining the hallway, conspicuously absent at the end of last cycle, as I cross through the pillared entrance to the grand hall.
My eyes cross over my father, mother, brothers, and sister as I collect my thoughts. I take a seat in the same chair as the previous cycle after trying, and failing, to see whatever it is Laek is scribbling in her book.
As a knave approaches to offer Champaign, I wave him off. No alcohol for me. I need to stay focused.
The atmosphere of the grand hall is the same as the last cycle, servants strolling around the hall calm yet tense.
I perk up as Emperor Loqtalios leans back in his chair and states, in much the same way as last time, “it is good to see you out of bed, for once, boy.”
“Yes, I am out of bed,” I sigh in impatience, “now, however, is not the time for merriment, father.”
“Why, of course it is. What time could be better?”
“I don’t know, maybe when our kingdom is not wobbling on a tight rope, just waiting to lose our balance and fall into a sea of revolutions and uprisings,” the sarcasm drips from my words.
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The room goes silent. The king’s expression grows serious. He sets his wine glass down as he sighs deeply. “Why couldn’t we have just had a pleasant meal together? Alas, I suppose the subject must be broached eventually. I-”
“We’re planning on leaving in a week’s time because you couldn’t do a thing about our empire’s state of affairs, right?” I interrupted, a surprised look crossing his face.
“That is what I was to announce at this meeting, yes. How did you-”
“You don’t need to know how I know, I just do. That banquet you plan to hold tonight, don’t.”
“I wasn’t planning on holding any banquet, but now that you mention it, that might actually be a good idea. One last celebration before we leave,” the king’s face takes on a look of consideration, his eyebrows scrunching and mouth pursing.
“No. Bad idea. We need to leave, now. The revolution is going to happen tonight. We must leave,” I plead.
My mother, Laverna, squints. “And how do you know that?”
“I- I- I just have a hunch.” it’s not like I could say I experienced it, died, and awoke the morning of. They would think I went insane.
“You expect us to just leave all of our belongings behind as we hop on board a carriage out of no other reason than a hunch?” My brother Talioson stands up. A frown crosses his face, “we need better a reason than that.”
“You wouldn’t have to leave everything behind.”
“A couple of hours is not nearly enough time to take everything of ours with us. Honestly, why should we even listen to your hunch?”
“I-”
My second brother, Albrit, leans forward. His voice, coated in a mocking tone, rips through me like a guillotine, “you, dear brother, sit in your bedroom all day and night. I must say, it is a rare occasion you come to a family meal such as this. Do you think you, after all the years you have spent sulking away in solitude, have any actual weight in what our family does? Why don’t you just go back to the rock you’ve been living under all this time and stay there like a good boy?”
I sit there in stunned silence. My ears ring as my father reprimands him. But what Albrit said is true. I have been doing no more than sleeping off my days for the longest time. My sickness renders me fatigued most of the time, but still. To think my words hold any sway. I have been arrogant in my thinking.
“Like you are any better,” a quiet voice cuts through the room.
Albrit’s face contorts as his gaze settles on Laek, “I’m sorry, what did you say? I must have heard you wrong, because it sounded to me like you said I am no better than my plague ridden brother.”
I’m not plague ridden, just chronically weak.
I perk up as my little sister sets down her book. Her small voice mumbles through half her words, and yet it is as though it is impossible to not hear her, “you heard me right.”
The lack of a clear answer just brings more ire to Albrit’s face, “how do you mean I am no better than Alabaster?!”
“Because.” The childish answer from Laek brings a chuckle from my lips.
Albrit notices that, as he directs the rage in his expression towards me, “What’s so funny?!”
“Oh, just that you so confidently wrote me off as less than you, and yet a few words from sis brought you to the verge of tears, pftt. Sooo impressive, dear brother,” I mock.
As Albrit looks like he is about to punch me in anger, father steps in. “Alright, boys, that is enough.”
Albrit’s eyes narrow in anger as he clenches his fists. For a moment, he looks like he’ll give it up and sit down. I won’t let that happen. This is too much fun.
“Oh, are you just going to take my insults and not do something? I thought you were better than me. I guess you are no better than a submissive knave.”
Albrit’s frown melts into a full on sneer. Father warns him, but it does nothing to quell the rage built up within my brother. Fun.
Before Albrit decides to take it to the next level and deck me, I stand up.
“Well this meeting has been quite the let down. I do wish you could have taken my warning to heart, dear father, but I suppose it can’t be helped. I’ll take my leave now. I have more important things to do,” I step away from the table, turning around to leave the room.
Before I can even take a step forward, I hear a chair screech. Turning around, I see Albrit on the table, jumping at me. As time seems to slow down, dishes go flying. The table cloth is pulled upwards, caught on Albrit’s shoe. Platters of meats and goblets of mead go flying. Wine splatters servants and nobles alike as my brother tackles me to the ground.
My head slams against the ground. Albrit’s fist slams into my face. And again. His knee digs into my chest, pinning me down. With a heavy punch, I lose feeling in half my face. As I am decked repeatedly, I realize I might not survive this. My bones are brittle; just another consequence of my degrading state. But he doesn’t know that.
Crunch.
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My vision goes black as I lose all feeling. I sit in an empty void. Strange blobs shift about, bending and shifting in ways incomprehensible to me.
In as much time, my feeling comes flooding back into me. My eyes open as I take a deep breath in. Light floods through curtains, casting a reticent glow over my room. The clicking of a door all too familiar registers in my ears.
I sigh internally as the tenor of Baudouin’s voice repeats, for the third time since the first cycle, “m’lord, your father has called for a family meal in the grand hall.”
Fuck.