CHAPTER 13 – THE FUNERAL
The procession line entered Port Caliber and pulled around in front of the main city hall and Assembly, a room for meetings and legislature councils inside Caliber. It was in this room that everyone was given the opportunity to pay their last respects to the fallen king. Mitakahn stood by his late father and greeted every person brave enough to say goodbye. He met many of the men and women that his father called friends. The prince stood alone by his father’s casket. Mitakahn didn’t blink throughout the whole ordeal, in a constant daze of disbelief and despair. He knew that is where his father would be at such an occasion if the roles were reversed, so he stood as herald to the bereaved.
For Adyána it was not so easy. At first, she tried sitting up at the front of the room near the coffin. But it was just too much to bear. It was her father, King Avalahn who approached his suffering daughter. He put his arms around her and brought her to the back. Avalahn told the queen, “You are brave, my child. You carry such a burden with grace, and I beseech you,” continued King Avalahn, “to look around, and feel good about the amount of lives your husband touched. He was a true champion of lions and child of MagnaThora. And he has the honor of dining with the gods now…”
Queen Adyána wiped away the tears from her eyes and felt the warmth of her father’s embrace. She felt like a child again, her shoreland roots exposing. It moved her to be strong once again and flow the brave energy her father generated and her fallen soulmate deserved. Avalahn admired his daughter. She had come so far. He was so proud of her. And his heart sank for her. He would helplessly witness her life be stripped away of all decency.
The shore king would have her come home with him if she was not responsible for a nation. Not just that, but a family. Avalahn could see that Axion and Mitakahn were as crushed as Adyána, and Axion, his firstborn grandson, now in line to take his throne, was more fragile than ever. But soon his time would come to leave and return to Metuchen. He had to figure out a way to watch over her. Perhaps, if he cannot do it himself he might leave a guardian by her side. And there was no one more reliable than his first born son, Anilithyìstad. King Avalahn left Adyána with the rest of the princesses and fetched his son.
King Avalahn stood side by side with Anilithyìstad as they watched Mitakahn in the front of the room standing alone beside the casket and greeting every member of the farewell procession, a constant current of people both foreign and domestic in a line.
“I want you to stay here after the funeral, and look after them,” ordered King Avalahn. “Keep the boys with you and take Jericho as well.”
“As you wish, father.”
“Stay as long as you deem fit…until they are on their feet again.”
“What of Axion and the throne?” inquired Anilithyìstad.
“Give him all the time he needs…and all the space he needs from the sharks…” Avalahn alluded to the bureaucrats that would sooner or later lobby for the dissolve of the monarchy and assimilation into the Senate.
“As you wish, my liege...”
“I’m entrusting you with the well-being of this nation because you are the only one who understands such a rule. Pray to the gods no more darkness do these three see…” King Avalahn concluded and walked away from his son as Jericho walked up next to the other side of Anilithyìstad, “What was that all about?”
Anilithyìstad turned to his nephew and said softly, “We’re to stay behind with the princes and mediate the transition of the throne.”
“We will not fail you, uncle.”
“You never have.”
Mitakahn continued greeting people coming to pay their last respects. There were many people sharing their story of the king with the prince. He was grateful. If there was anything that Mitakahn loved it was getting the same story from a different perspective. In the most sour of ways, this was one all-encompassing story about his father.
“He’s not gone, you know,” said a polite old woman.
“Excuse me?”
“We believe in the Magnanimous but who put the great lion on this earth?”
“The gods did.”
“Yes, my prince. The same gods that gave us the lion gave us the heavens. All great kings of the lion go to heaven and Theomitus was truly great.”
“Thank you.”
The kind old lady reached out for Mitakahn’s hand and kissed it saying one more thing before she moved on, “You look like him.”
Mitakahn wondered if anyone would call him truly great at his funeral. If only he could be there to see for himself. He would only dare to think he could be as worthy as his father.
This part of the procession would be a fog of a memory to Mitakahn, except for one moment. Surrounded by condolences and apologies; the prince’s murkiness was at its thickest. In the fog, Mitakahn could hear the quiet conversations all around him better than he could see right in front of him. .
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“He held that jar up to his mouth, as if he was actually accomplishing something.”
“He’s still a child in many ways.”
Mitakahn’s face suddenly flushed with sweat. They were talking about him.
“I laughed it off instead of scolding him and you should’ve seen the look he gave me.”
Mitakahn’s anger pushed through his grief when he realized it was his brother saying these things to their cousin Jericho. How could Axion act so cold in a moment of sheer vulnerability? These were no childish games he was playing.
He was given a secret mission within a hidden message. Mitakahn would do anything for his father and failed to save him. He had nothing left except the mysterious message, and what? His brother felt the need to ridicule him for it? Mitakahn was furious. He stood at the front of the procession while his brother mocked him from the back.
There was no way he could ever explain it to Axion. His older brother was a deliberate and severe person, just like Jericho. No wonder they were commiserating together at the expense of Mitakahn. What exactly did he do wrong? Have a little hope? Maybe it was a fool’s hope, but it was a drop of water in an endless desert.
At the time, he was too caught up in the moment to think how his family would react to such an odd gesture. Mitakahn’s anger quickly gave way to humiliation. Why did he always put himself in these situations?
Axion was right, it was childish and selfish to think he could save the king by trapping his last breath in a jar. Now he realized how much of an idiot he must’ve looked like desecrating his father’s corpse. He was ashamed of himself. As soon as he got back to his room he vowed to hurl the jar off the citadel tower and forget it ever happened. It was time to start acting like a real man.
Just then a light entered the room and broke his fog. It slowly made its way to the front of the room, waiting in the line of mourners. When the light reached Mitakahn it dimmed.
Behind it was a beautiful maiden. She looked like a princess of the Heavens: bright, natural brown eyes that look as though her pupils captivate all the colors of the universe, fair, soft skin, and long brunette hair flowing into her immaculate evergreen dress, still glowing with the white radiance of light. Mitakahn was compelled to hug her. As they held each other in their embrace, the maiden spoke softly into Mitakahn’s ear, four simple words…
“His spirit lives on.”
“Thank you.”
With a flash, the prince stumbled back and nearly fell to the floor. The woman was gone. Mitakahn was delirious. No one had flinched within the room. No one but Mitakahn noticed what had just happened. He was starting to hallucinate. Leave it to prince Mitakahn to dream up the most beautiful woman in the world. The grief and despair had officially taken a toll on the prince. He gathered himself as best he could and finished this grueling part of the ceremony. The murkiness set back in, but Mitakahn had forgotten his vow to discard the jar.
He had heard all the stories of his father’s a hundred times. But it seemed modesty was the theme in all his storytelling. Because what Mitakahn was hearing now, about his father’s adventures, was so inspiring and more grand than what his father used to tell him, that it all deserved to be logged in the hall of records; worthy of future generations to hear.
Without warning from the doors walked in, two by two, as if it were an honorary marching service, all Mitakahn’s brethren from the Knighthood of the Silver Den. All of the friends Mitakahn learned with and grew close to walked perfectly in step with each other, into the service to give their honor and respect to the fallen king, the widowed Queen, and their bereaved comrade. The first five knights leading the march were faces he thought he would not see this day. Mitakahn looked at his former bunkmates and close friends, Tron, Kunezar, Bridger, Humbler, and Excelsior. Tron gave Mitakahn a subtle head nod as they all walked by him to the front of the casket.
The entire parade stopped, turned to face the casket, and knelt down on one knee, all the while being completely in sync with each other. After a moment of silence, they all stood back up and chanted, “All hail the glorious dead” and then marched to the back of the room. Upon their entrance the whole place stopped and took note of what was happening. It was a true testament of brotherhood and honor.
Mitakahn left his spot beside the casket to greet and thank his friends. Before he could even wonder what Excelsior was doing Orion came rushing into the service and pounced on Mitakahn.
Excelsior was from the Canine Kingdom, a community of wanderers. Upon being born, every member of the Canine Kingdom was paired, by fate, with a dog that walked beside them their entire life. This was an ancient divine gift that preceded any other kingdom legend. The dogs grew to the height of humans, and sometimes, depending upon the breed, the size of horses. Just like the ancient kings of the Pride, members of the canine kingdom used their dogs as mounts. They traveled as one and were always fierce on the battlefield, a storm of cavalry.
Now, with his back pinned to the floor, Mitakahn was getting all the grief and sadness licked off his face as he was overcome with joy by the dog’s affection. Excelsior came to his wild beast’s side, saving the prince from the dog’s loving torment.
After that, Mitakahn personally thanked all of his friends for coming. Tron told him how one dark and foggy night he was on the fields of the Silver Den with Excelsior when they both looked at each other and knew something was wrong. Their thoughts surrounded Mitakahn, and they knew what had to be done by the Academy.
Soon the service began to slow down. The line had dispensed and there was no one left in the room besides Mitakahn’s closest family and friends, and the two priests from the Phoenix Kingdom. The wake was now over, and it was time to bring the casket down to its final resting place. The casket would be carried down to the shores by Axion, Mitakahn, Anilithyìstad, Anilithion, Jericho, and Mortikahn. It was not an easy task. The walk consisted of many blocks through the inner city, then turning south into residential areas, and finally the empty shores of Caliber.
The chosen few set down the casket upon the sand. It was almost night time already. To think, a whole day had passed by in the teardrop of a minute. The beach was clear of any ship or seaside market. The citizens of Port Caliber were thoughtful enough to give the king and his family the privacy and their final good-byes, and Mitakahn was grateful for that. It was because Theomitus was such a good king that everyone in his kingdom was loyal to him and kindhearted to each other.
Everyone paid homage to the setting sun. A natural element common in various religions. MagnaThora was the land of many faiths, all clashing and mixing together. The Lion Kingdom was not an overly religious kingdom as some of the others. It was also nothing like the Apathetics. An ancient order of Apophas that despised worship and rule and manufactured the democratic revolution with the founding of the Republic in the ashes of the gorilla, canine, and lizard thrones.
No, the Lion kingdom remained neutral, a secular rule with flexibility in religion and belief in personal freedoms. Mitakahn had always admired that about his home, a monarchy that honored human rights. Everyone didn’t have to believe in Magnanimous just because they lived on his Serengeti, but it sure did help.