But words and whispers in the mind aren’t going to stop me. Did the scholar Vesuvian stop when the other philosophers of Ravania cast him out of the university? No, he established his own, and now the name of the school that he studies from resides only in the memories of historians. And, I suppose, me, as well.
-From The Last King of Elneshe’s 7th Note.
The palace of King Selerin stood tall among the other buildings of the capital. With its eye-catching spires that rose up so far into the air people thought that it might cut the clouds themselves. It was the magnificent effort of the kingdom’s greatest architects and artists that such a wonder even existed.
Which is why it was completely impossible to bring it to the mountains of forgotten Elneshe. The rough terrain made it impossible to build architecture that looked catching to the eye, which is why the king had decided on a less outwardly extravagant, but still impressive, keep. In the tallest floor of that keep, in the chambers of the king himself, Galeon kneeled.
“Rise, Afterburner. You’re honoured here,” king Selerin’s voice boomed out. Not the enhanced voice of a hallowmancer, but nobility itself. Even though no one was around his throne, and only a few guards remained by his side, Galoen felt compelled to keep kneeling.
Novi would kill me if I made even a single slight against the king.
“…Really, Galeon, I’m sure you’re tiring of staring at the ground,” the king added, chuckling. Did he really spend that long staring at the floor? It was polished to a near mirror-like sheen, but that didn’t excuse the faux pas.
“Forgive me, Your Highness. I didn’t mean any offence…” just like Noviselle had told him to practice. Respectful, suffocatingly even. But instead of taking the apology, he waved him forward. Galeon stood up from where he was kneeling and approached the king, keeping his hands tied behind his back as he did. Up close, the piercing eyes of the king seemed even more daunting to him.
“The showmanship is mostly for the nobles, young Afterburner. From what I’ve heard from Countess Noviselle, you’re not really the type to care about such things,” king Selerin said, almost as if it was a question.
“Ah… that was… I was just…” Galeon stuttered. Did he know about the pie incident? Seraphas let that it wasn’t that, or else he was going to face a lot more than scolding from Lakon.
“A bit of fun never hurts anyone, Galeon. At least you try to keep things jovial,” he said, his mind far away.
“I… thank you for bearing with that, Your Highness.”
“Though I have to ask, young Afterburner. Where does it end for you?” king Selerin said with his tone changed.
“W-what do you mean?” Galeon asked.
“I’ve heard reports, Galeon, of your ability in battle,” king Selerin said, “You’re one of the best recruits we’ve got. Resourceful, quick and cunning. You held off an entire battalion of enemy Afterburners all by yourself.”
He then rose from his throne, and Galeon began to feel so very small.
“Then why is it that you refuse to kill?” he asked. The same question that Galeon had been dreading to be asked. He didn’t think news of how he operated would reach His Highness ever, but it seemed he wasn’t so lucky.
“I… I cannot bring myself to do it, Your Grace,” he replied simply, in a quiet voice. The king approached him, Galeon’s heart racing as he did, and then he placed a hand on his shoulder.
“I don’t ask this to question you, Galeon. Please, look at me,” he asked of the young Afterburner. Instead of the disapproving glare that Noviselle gave, king Selerin had only an inquisitive look. And suddenly all the tension in Galeon’s muscles vanished.
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
“There has to be an explanation for it. Why not kill, young Afterburner?”
“I think all life is precious, Your Grace. Yours, mine, even… even Ravenishtani lives,” Galeon answered. The king put a finger to his chin as he started to pace around Galeon.
“Interesting. Why is that?”
“Because they could go on to do much good, Your Highness. Wouldn’t giving them that chance be more beneficial than killing them?” he asked. The king chuckled at that, but not his usual jolly chuckle. This one seemed more morose, and Galeon didn’t find himself enjoying it.
“Come with me, Galeon. I’ve got something to show you,” Selerin said, motioning him forwards. Galeon followed, but always kept a few steps behind as the king led him across halls and even some tapestries. They depicted the six members of the Phasin pantheon in eternal battle, preparing and fighting against an unseen force.
“New installation. It’s quite nice, actually,” the king noted idly, to which Galeon agreed.
“Where are you taking me, Your Highness?” Galeon asked.
“Around.”
Around? Very descriptive of him.
Leading him down another hall, the king opened his mouth. He didn’t speak for a bit, until finally he seemed to gather his thoughts all together.
“How old are you, young Afterburner?” king Selerin asked him.
“Twenty years, Your Grace.”
“Hmmm, so you weren’t alive during the civil war, were you?”
“No, Your Grace. My parents… they died soon after it. I didn’t get to learn much about it from them, and the other villagers wouldn’t tell me much,” Galeon replied.
“Well, let me be your teacher then,” he turned towards a door at the end of the hall, twisting open the handle into the coldly lit room. There were swords, daggers, and weapons of all kinds inside of the room, along with chests and tables. Some of the blades looked so ornate that Galeon didn’t even think they could be used in battle. The king even had Ravenishtani talwars in his display, showing them off as the forefront of his collection.
“The war began with the death of my father and ended with the death of my brother.”
The king said it as if it was a long gone memory. Galeon could do nothing but let out a breath at the exclamation.
“I’m… sorry for your loss, Your Highness,” he told the king.
“The sympathies are appreciated, but unnecessary. I came to terms with it long ago.”
He picked up a talwar from one of the displays and looked at it nostalgically.
“The king before me, my father Elphans, was a great ruler. I, as the heir, was expected to take in his steps and bring the kingdom further than ever before. Naturally, I failed at the first step,” he said as he began to swing the sword in his hands, going through motions practiced as if they were nothing.
“I wanted to take the throne immediately after my father’s death. Bring surety to the nation that was suffering from a chaotic future. But my brother had other ideas,” he continued, lowering the weapon again.
“This was his blade. The one he brought back from his trip to Ravenishtan,” the king said, showing the polished edge of it to Galeon. It looked so well-maintained that you couldn’t tell it was over two decades old.
“Why did he try to take your throne from you?” Galeon asked.
“Because he thought he could do better,” Selerin spat, “I told him he was too inexperienced, his ideas too… untested, but he wouldn’t listen. What I failed to account for was that he wasn’t the only one thinking along his lines.”
“He had support?” Galeon asked.
“Immense. Almost half the country was on his side. I guess that owed to him being more charismatic, but the size of his forces still shocked me. Shocked me so that I took too long to mount a defence.”
“But you won in the end, though,” Galeon said.
“Yes, I did. But it cost Yugric’s life to do so. Poor, little Yugric, who didn’t think to stop…” the king slipped into something of a mutter, looking at the blade with his eyes hazy.
“Your Highness?” Galeon asked.
“Sometimes it’s necessary, young Afterburner. Death, I mean.”
Galeon clenched his fists, looking away from the king once more. He couldn’t stare upon that visage and say what would come next.
“But why does it have to be?” he asked. “Why couldn’t you have convinced your brother to stop?”
“Because sometimes a person is too far gone to. You have to think greater than what you want, and think of what the world at large needs,” king Selerin answered, before placing the talwar in his hands back on its hold delicately.
He then walked past Galeon and towards the door at the end of the room. “You must be getting irritable staying inside for so long, young Afterburner. Come on, let’s send you off.”
“Would you hate me, Your Highness, if I still did not kill?” Galeon asked. The king sighed, but didn’t turn around.
“We’ve enough hallowmancers that it wouldn’t make a difference. I’d rather have you here doing the work you are, than have you fly off because I order you to do something you’d rather not.”
“…Thank you, Your Grace.”