Later that evening, Rohmhelt stood at the balcony on the castle’s third level while the Forge Festival entered its busiest night with its grand parade. Beginning at the city gates, the procession of soldiers, shamans, street performers, musicians, costumed fools, and whatever else would march up through the city center and then veer off into the eastern plaza for nightlong revelries of every conceivable sort. Most of the city’s lights were dimmed for the march, save for a cascade of fiery pillars that would light in a repeating wave on either side of the route as the parade proceeded.
This was his first Forge Festival and, since Karmand had never had its own king before, he decided to implement the tradition that he would not play any role in it. Lohs and the other ministers had suggested that the king should address the festivities at some juncture. As the very idea disgusted Rohmhelt, he refused, saying that this was a festivity for the people alone. Their king would be removed from it so that it belonged to them, or at least that was his excuse.
Blaring horns and a crescendo of deep drums signaled the parade’s start. Cheers sounded out from the city, filling the air over Karmand up to the keep’s highest levels. Fiery pillars shot up at regular along the path as the column marched forward, bracketing the march. It was all a very impressive display and one with a cost Rohmhelt dreaded to consider.
“You could go down there, you know,” Lohs said from behind.
Rohmhelt jolted as he hadn’t expected company and turned about to acknowledge his advisor.
“Once I run out of reasons not to,” he grumbled.
Lohs walked up next to his king and watched the parade’s progression. He smiled and laughed, clearly loving every moment of it.
“I’d hate to bring this up now, but…”
“Do you have to, then?” Rohmhelt interrupted.
“We’ve not discussed this in some time and you never said anything about when you spoke with Simel and Vorlan,” Lohs said.
Rohmhelt pushed off the railing and toward the doorway. As he had strictly forbidden Lohs from even mentioning that incident, his shock was considerable that it was mentioned.
“We will not discuss it. Given that it has been many months now and there is no sign of such a thing occurring any time soon, if ever, I am content to leave what I saw where it belongs,” Rohmhelt said, avoiding looking at Lohs. “I don’t want to speak of it again and… I’ve told you to leave this alone.”
“Regrettably, and I know you don’t want to hear this,” Lohs said, approaching the king, “Simel came to me several days ago to inquire why it was that you had not heeded their advice and simply proceeded as though nothing happened. I told him that I’d speak with you, but of course I also told him I doubt it’d do very much good,” Lohs laughed.
“If he wants to speak with me, he can do it himself,” Rohmhelt snarled. “It was…”
“Forgive me, but you truly can’t ignore this. You keep me around to…” Lohs feistily interrupted Rohmhelt only to be cut off in turn.
“Advise me, yes, but…”
“And my advice is worth nothing if I won’t tell you when you’re wrong,” Lohs shouted.
The King gasped in shock at the old man’s outburst. He had rarely, in all of his years, seen Lohs so animated as at that moment. Lohs jolted, almost appearing as though he wished he could reclaim the words that spouted from his mouth.
“What do you want to know?” Rohmhelt asked sheepishly.
Lohs’s mouth opened cautiously, clearly afraid of further testing his king. Relieving the awkward tension, however, was the sound of the approaching revelry, with the drums beating harder and the crackling of each flaming pillar growing louder.
“They didn’t even tell me the same thing,” Rohmhelt grumbled, throwing his hands up in disgust. “The priests tell us that the angels are so superior that they are bound to baffle us. Well, I certainly agree with part of that.”
Lohs smiled and stepped closer on the balcony.
“What did they say? You never did tell me,” Lohs said politely.
“Vorlan told me not to worry, but he said it in so many different words I can’t see how I shouldn’t worry. Simel… If I followed what he told me to do,” Rohmhelt sighed and stormed into the reception chamber inside, “I’d… I think father would strip the crown from my head.”
“Oh?” Lohs asked, following him.
“He makes it sound as though I should prepare for a war,” Rohmhelt laughed. “A war? With whom? I asked him and he wouldn’t say. Parlon? My brother? Father? Who?!”
“It would be nice if he’d stop being so cryptic,” Lohs sighed. “He’s never said anything particularly specific to me, either. Have you had anything like what you saw at the coronation since?”
“What’s that? Oh, no,” Rohmhelt insisted. “Nothing remotely like that. Some dreams here and there, good and bad, but nothing of that sort.”
This, however, was a lie.
Horrific visions sporadically haunted him in what seemed to be shortening intervals. At times, he would look out on Karmand itself and see it as a shattered husk, its sturdy iron structures smashed to pieces and a harsh red wind whipping around the city’s remains. At court, too, he saw faces decay or burn away, melting to the bone. No matter the gravity of those images, he would not divulge that he continued to see them to anyone. Even though it taxed his energies to endure it, he managed to avoid even appearing distressed when they occurred.
“I’m glad to hear that,” Lohs said. “As much as I hate doing it, I consulted the Elder Matriarch, Yldrina…”
“Oh no, why?” Rohmhelt interrupted.
“Since the angels speak in such cryptic terms I thought I’d talk to someone who claims to understand them,” Lohs said, grinning. His grin dropped immediately before he spoke again. “Sadly, she wasn’t of much use, either.”
“Why does this not shock me?” Rohmhelt groaned, turning back toward the balcony. “This does go on for a while, doesn’t it?”
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“I’d be negligent if I didn’t bring one more thing to your attention,” Lohs’s voice took on a familiar mischievous lilt.
Rohmhelt barely tilted his head at Lohs.
“A queen?”
“Indeed. A queen,” Lohs laughed. “If you don’t, it will all pass to your brother and…”
“Yes, yes, yes, yes…” Rohmhelt sighed. “What’s your plan?”
“My plan?” Lohs laughed again. “Well, I had been hoping you would have someone in mind.”
“Haven’t given it any thought,” Rohmhelt said, glancing at the ceremony below. Heavy drumbeats reached a crescendo as the procession’s vanguard reached the city’s eastern plaza. Fireworks burst in the sky in wonderful illuminations of sparkling azure, violet, ginger, and crimson.
“I had reasoned that, which is why I’ve given it some thought for you,” Lohs said.
“No doubt.”
“First and foremost on the list is Lady Joradeld from the southwest. Her family’s lands make her among the most powerful women in the kingdom as she was her father’s sole heir. Then there is…”
Rohmhelt began to ignore Lohs’s reciting of his list of suitors. He found the procession more enjoyable, though that was only by default. Lohs’s insistence on this matter had grown tiresome over the past several months. His younger brother had married five years previously and the fact that he had not began to raise questions he knew he had to answer. Still, as he gripped paced around the balcony, he wondered why it was he felt as though he was being forced into a potential marriage. Even if he did go along with it, he would hardly be the first monarch forced into a loveless pairing. What he envied, though, was his brother’s immaculate marriage. Of all of Duronaht’s advantages, that was the one that bothered Rohmhelt the most.
“Then there is Lady Adrenyk,” Lohs said, with those being some of the few words Rohmhelt had heard.
“The one from the audience? The Kyosok?” Rohmhelt queried.
“Yes, quite,” Lohs said, smiling. “That one caught your ear, though. I said seven others and you didn’t respond.”
“Oh, I’m… Doesn’t she have children already?”
“Yes, two little daughters from her now deceased husband. Terrible accident he had,” Lohs said mournfully. “She is still young and of child-bearing age.”
“She’s older than me,” Rohmhelt laughed, trying to dismiss the idea.
“Not by much,” Lohs scolded. “Would you be interested? Her Kyosok blood gives you an opening into your brother’s territory as well. He has the bulk of her people, but he doesn’t respect them or give them an audience.”
Anxious to move along, Rohmhelt waved his hands off and nodded.
“We’ll look into it tomorrow,” the King said.
“Alright, I will bring her before you again in the morning with…”
“Make it after lunch.”
“I shall see if that can be coordinated,” Lohs chirped.
Waves of wild cheers broke out from the city and Rohmhelt rushed to the balcony to see what the occasion was. From the eastern plaza he saw a green pillar of light shooting up into the sky while throngs cheered on all sides around it. It was a sight he had seen before.
“Lohs, have a detachment of the guard meet me at the gate. I’ll have to ride out for this one,” Rohmhelt barked as he walked back into the chamber.
“What is it?” Lohs queried.
“Vorlan.”
Rohmhelt rode from the castle’s gate toward the plaza with a dozen heavily armored knights riding on his either side. Two heralds at the vanguard of his column waved the regal banners with gusto and trumpeters at the column’s rear blasted a sharp fanfare to announce the King’s approach. Relatively few had turned from the plaza to face him. Most of the crowd was inexorably fixed on the plaza’s center where a series of colorful crackling swirls swept through the sky. Rohmhelt, too, stared at them as he dismounted his horse and walked through the masses.
“Make way for the King!” one of his guardsmen commanded.
At last, an aisle did form for him and his subjects dropped, albeit furtively, to a knee as he walked past them. When he reached the plaza’s perimeter, the crowd parted so that he could see the angel Vorlan standing in its center. For Rohmhelt, Vorlan’s appearances had become almost tedious and unremarkable, no more noteworthy than the sunrise. It was clear, however, from the rapturous energy of the common people that they felt differently. Vorlan, too, seemed overjoyed to see the King.
“Your Majesty,” Vorlan said happily while he knelt graciously on the smooth black stone.
“My Angelic Lord,” Rohmhelt only just bowed toward Vorlan. He could scarcely have done less. “I am happy that you have graced our city with your presence again, especially at the Forge Festival.”
“I hope to contribute to the festivities, if I may,” Vorlan gestured toward a row of wine casks to his right.
Rohmhelt nodded and waved his hand. Vorlan glided over to the casks and whisked his hands in the air, causing a sparkling greenish haze to come over the casks before dissipating.
“Your Majesty, I would be honored if you would have a drink,” Vorlan said happily, bowing.
Rohmhelt noted the throngs on all sides looking on in near utter silence. Remembering advice Lohs gave him to never disappoint the people, he grabbed a wooden cup and opened a spout on one of the casks to fill it. The drink smelled peculiar to him, with a clear and crisp scent of something entirely unfamiliar. He raised the cup toward the crowd and took a mighty swig. His mouth almost popped open at the staggeringly intense taste, far more so than anything he had ever experienced. His vision immediately blurred and the world seemed brighter, but at the same time he was not terrified. A warm feeling came over his whole body.
“Very good,” his words tumbled out sloppily. He noticed they sounded lyrical and hung in the air.
The roar of cheers that followed was positively deafening and the citizens poured forth to claim their share. Vorlan guided Rohmhelt away, toward the Solnahtern as the crowd became quite distracted with the altered wine. Rohmhelt’s own daze began to dissipate quickly. He looked at Vorlan’s craggy, mossy face as the angel smiled back at him.
“What did you do to it?”
“Something fairly harmless. They will enjoy it more,” Vorlan said happily.
“Provided that they don’t tear apart this city,” Rohmhelt grumbled as he saw the crowd seemingly descending into drunken euphoria.
“I assure you that my alterations to that rather plain and simple wine only make its effects more beneficent,” Vorlan insisted, pointing toward the dancing and hugging throngs. “You wonder why I have come?”
“Yes. Why now?” Rohmhelt asked as they withdrew further down the road.
Vorlan turned his head upward at the moons and smiled at them.
“Have you had any more visions of late?” the angel asked.
Rohmhelt suspected he could not escape with lying and saying that he had not, but he thought he would try in either case.
“None whatsoever,” he declared proudly. “I suspect that I hadn’t slept enough, or something like that, back when that first happened.”
“If you continue to talk, I wonder at what point you might speak the truth,” Vorlan quipped playfully. “Now, have you seen any further visions?”
Rohmhelt was staggered by the accusation, but also not at all surprised. He had no reason to think he could deceive an angel for long.
“Yes, I have. Very much the same images as before, and of Karmand, too,” Rohmhelt said, folding his arms and looking at the ground. He could not engage Vorlan directly. “Burning, collapsing, heaps of corpses, the rest of it.” He tried to sound disengaged or disinterested.
Vorlan nodded in response.
“I take by your tone that you do not believe these visions to be anything serious. No more than wisps of a dream?” Vorlan queried with his mossy eyebrows raising up high on his head.
The King still avoided looking directly into Vorlan’s deep brown eyes.
“Should I think differently?” Rohmhelt asked. His fury was growing with the persistent cryptic pronouncements that had plagued him for months.
“Despite what my dear Simel tells you, no,” Vorlan’s strong voice was still somehow nearly overwhelmed by the raucous celebration ensuing up the road. “You doubtlessly have had dreams of future events that have never come to pass.”
“I have,” Rohmhelt replied weakly. He knew it was not the same, but the thought was comforting. “Have you come all of this way to tell me not to worry?”
“Yes, you could say that,” Vorlan said, his jolly disposition diminishing swiftly. “My fear, Your Majesty, is that both in the mortal realm and in Ceuna we have far too many building tensions, most of which are pointless. What has bothered me about the concern regarding your supposed visions is that they might be unwisely interpreted as a means to increase these tensions. Mortals are so drawn to what they fear that they often bring that fear to life.”
“And what should I do then?” Rohmhelt asked.
“For the time being, nothing. Enjoy your reign more. This is a great city,” Vorlan said smiling.
With that, the Earth Angel vanished in a greenish whirl. Rohmhelt shook his head and made a path back to the castle with his guards following on either side. If the Earth Angel himself was inclined to ignore portents of doom, so was he.