CHAPTER 2—THE TRAGIC KING
Mitakahn missed home. It had been over four years since he enrolled in the knighthood, and apart from the few breaks between sessions, the prince had spent the majority of those years at the academy; away from home, his home, and his people, known throughout all of MagnaThora as the Pride.
He looked out across the rolling blue deep as far as the eye could see in any direction, his sea voyage coming to an end. His body still ached from the basilisk, but the wounds were healing. The massive wooden frigate with an abundance of sails carried him across the Neiad Bay. Rather than send a royal escort, the king contracted a premiere merchant vessel. This meant something to Mitakahn. Time was of the essence.
Ahead of them spawned land, more importantly a city, and the largest seaport in the north. Soon he would land in Port Caliber. The City of Caliber was built upon merchant prosperity, its downtown district now reached the same heights as its sister city, Zepathorum.
Up ahead for Mitakahn meant simultaneously bringing home his ugly truth and confronting the mystery that awaited him. Although he did not know anything for sure yet, he was picking up subtle clues from his unfolding surroundings. His ship was not received by a magnificent welcoming party like every other time he had returned home, no real surprise there. It was merely just Queen Adyána standing at the docks with her royal guards, awaiting her second-born son.
Queen Adyána was once a princess of the Horse Kingdom in the West. In her youth and up until recently, she had flowing brunette hair bundled and weaved in thick braids down to her waist, and warm brown eyes. The cargo frigate docked at the northern cape at Seaport Village Pier. The prince walked down the boarding ramp in his gray cloak. They were kind enough to let him keep it, knowing full well he would never obtain the silver cloak of an ordained knight.
His mother looked up, astonished. For time had changed many things since last they met, and the prince’s growth would have perhaps been the topic of conversation given normal circumstances, but too much had changed at home. Mitakahn looked down at his mother. He finally got a good look at her and realized that while time had been good for Mitakahn’s growth, it had the opposite effect on his mother, taking its toll on her.
Queen Adyana bore such burdensome eyes. Her hair, still down to her waist, had withered into brunette and gray stressed strips. Her face looked worn down and profoundly sad, shadowed with pale wrinkled skin. After looking hard, Mitakahn could still see her beauty, but in his absence something had been plaguing her along with the rest of the townsfolk.
The Queen greeted her son with a warm embrace. He would be the last to know in the entire kingdom of the awful news. It's amazing how Mitakahn had been kept in the dark until the summons reached him at the knighthood, a true testament to the Silver Den’s reclusiveness. Up until now he had been worried about his own misdeeds but the atmosphere around town was too much to ignore.
There was an unusual density to the air. The winds from the sea seemed to stop right before the city. Everyone walked with their heads hung low, eyes to the cobblestone ground, as if a contagious despair afflicted the city. In the shadow of change crept in a sullen evil, an infectious gloom. Mitakahn merely dismissed it as a lousy seaport day. The once bright, bustling, clean streets of the port city resembled more of a murky melancholy which left the prince feeling estranged.
His journey was not over. He took a carriage with his mother out of Port Caliber and up to Zepathorum City. It was in this carriage that she explained to him what was going on. “Now listen carefully, Mitakahn, because it is going to be hard enough repeating this once, I do not wish to say it again…”
“Go ahead, Mother.”
“Your father is very sick. We do not know how it happened, but it is….. It doesn’t seem like he is going to make it. Whatever kind of sickness this is, it is eating him from the inside out. I have been watching him for months now, and it has only gotten worse in that time. There is little- hope.” the queen trailed off with no idea of what to say next. And there sat Mitakahn, eyes wide, lost in horror and confusion. He had so many questions and he was so furious, but there was only one thing he could say…
“I understand.”
The shock rang out inside his mind, stunning him for the time being. He wasn’t going to get any answers; not right now. What else could he hope to make of this until he could see for himself? But something inside him, something deep down always feared that this evil was lurking. Mitakahn always suspected there were things his father kept from them, old secrets that make kings the loneliest people on the planet.
Mitakahn had so many questions growing up. Like what happened to the rest of the Arkenoir Dynasty? His family ruled for hundreds of years, yet all his uncles, aunts, and cousins were on his mother’s side from the ShoreLands. It was too late now. He let the unknown fester in his time away. Maybe if Mitakahn was around more he would have been able to spot it sooner... He tried not to spiral down the slippery slope of placing blame. Before he knew it, they were entering the gates of Zepathorum.
Mitakahn’s time away helped him recapture the glory of Zepathorum’s splendor. The city was made of crimson crystal towers with a skyline peaking high in the sky, sparkling in the setting sun, wrapped in a ribbon wall. The highest tower being the citadel, the residence of the royal family, rested in the exact middle of the city with its back to Lake Niobi. The crystal made Zepathorum one of the most beautiful and, more importantly, the most impenetrable cities in all of MagnaThora.
The twin cities resembled a harmony of modern marvel and ancestral ingenuity. They rode in the dual horse-drawn carriage through the city down Crimson Boulevard. Mitakahn was home. The prince would get to see his father at last. Mitakahn walked up the spiral staircase of the royal tower and into the king’s resting chambers without hesitation. No amount of anticipation could brace him for what he was about to see.
Once again his mind toyed with him. In the few seconds before he entered the room Mitakahn feared the worst. What if he looked horrible? He had no idea what to think. His mother’s briefing almost felt like a detriment. He was shaken to the core, which made him feel like a child once again. It was a little after midday and even with a light in the corner of the room it still seemed dark. Mitakahn hated the feeling. This was not the home he remembered.
He turned to see his father sitting on the bed. Mitakahn was baffled, in the time passed it seemed that Theomitus had aged over thirty years. The King’s beard, which Mitakahn modeled his own after, was gray and spotty. His skin was tight and worn out. His eyes, once powerful and authoritative, were now surrendered and glazed over, almost vacant.
His posture was scrawny and fragile. The fat and meat on his bones were completely gone, his skeleton sucked dry. He was half the man he used to be. His crown looked over-sized but never ill-fitting. King Theomitus looked up and saw his son. Without hesitation, he tried to stand.
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“Mitakahn!”
“I’m here…I’m here now, Father. Everything is going to be alright.”
For the first time ever, the prince found himself comforting his king. Together, they stood in the middle of the room, surrounded by family, hugging each other. Mitakahn opened his eyes; he was taller than his father. Since when?
He wanted to break down right then and there and cry, but he didn’t. Something inside of him made him hold on, hold true to what he believed in to get him through this. Something kept him strong for the time being, strong for his father and his family. Like the ends will one day justify the means, and once it is all over life will have found its own path to the greater meaning…if he could just hold strong now. Mitakahn acknowledged this force and pulled it close, along with his father’s embrace.
The king held onto Mitakahn tightly. It had been too long.
“Mitakahn, th-there” he stuttered, “there are so many things I’ve wanted to say to you.”
“It’s okay, father. I’m home now. We have plenty of time.”
“…time for what?”
Mitakahn was completely thrown off by his father’s confusion. Only later did he find out from his mother that a couple of days ago the king lost the ability to keep his attention. Theomitus was losing his mind. One moment they would be in the presence of the king, the next moment he was either docile or disoriented. The mind was a fickle complexity. Even in such abnormal circumstances, there was still a woeful balance only chaos could connect.
THREE SEASONS AGO
When Theomitus first began to feel this sickness inside of him his mind immediately focused on the future. The king knew something was wrong for a while but did not show any signs of physical ailment. Theomitus decided not to say anything and keep his family in the dark about his sickness. He did this by going on a quest, leaving Mitakahn’s older brother and heir to the throne, Prince Axion Arkenoir, in charge of the entire kingdom for the first time.
At the time, the royal family did not think anything of it. They thought it was merely a trial for Axion as prince and future ruler of the kingdom and a vacation for the tenured king. Theomitus even mentioned to his wife how dealing with the lords, the council of Prestigents, the senators, and most of all… the governor would be good for the boy’s growth in diplomacy. In the king’s words, “One of the most integral skill sets for ruling a kingdom is snake-juggling.”
On his journey he walked to many lands and cities filled with old enemies. He searched far and wide for ancient treasures and went to look for places that drifted off the map long ago. But no one knew he searched for such treasures. And whatever secrets he found or uncovered, he kept to himself leaving a quiet mystery in his wake.
When he returned home to Zepathorum the king never talked about his journey. In fact, by the time he came back he was beginning his descent and barely spoke at all. Theomitus would soon start cramping up in ordinary daily motion.
His hips and groin ached. He thought he’d pulled something. Or that’s what he told them. Maybe he was just getting old and starting to feel it. That was how he rationalized it; how he kept the possibility of something far worse at bay. Soon the shroud of menial ailments would be pulled to reveal the truth.
ONE SEASON AGO
The king returned from his journey. For a time, he kept Axion in charge. Theomitus relished in the idea of taking an early retirement. He spent his days with his beloved Adyana, like back before they had kids and a kingdom to worry about.
Theomitus stared at the sun’s radiance bouncing off the golden shine within his throne room. He looked out wide openings created by the balconies, providing a panoramic view of his city and kingdom beyond it. His queen walked into the room, practically skipping with glee; her hair braided down her back, still a bright brunette, not a worry in the world. Theomitus compared the beauty of the sunshine with the loveliness of his wife’s eyes. “Do you know what today is? My king…” she asked.
“I believe I do, fair queen. It is the anniversary of our wedding day.”
“Correct, your majesty. Happy Anniversary!” she smiled while she leaned in over the throne for a kiss. Together the two of them sat on the throne, peering out over the southern window, past Lake Niobi, at the cascading fields of the Serengeti.
“One day,” promised the king, “When Mitakahn is done with school, and Axion has taken the throne, we shall retire to a small town in the Serengeti, and find a nice place by the lake…”
They both stared out into the horizon with joyful smiles on their faces. “That sounds perfect,” replied Queen Adyána.
She jumped up, like a little girl, turned around, and went to say, “And perhaps, we can have a-” But before she could finish she saw something wrong in the face of her beloved. Half his smile turned to frown, while the eye above it began to droop. Adyána screamed when King Theomitus started shaking uncontrollably.
“HELP!” yelled Adyána, “GUARDS!”
Adyána rushed over to the king, who was now fully out of control of his bodily functions. She held his head by her bosom, keeping it from trembling, while the rest of his body convulsed and then fell limp, lifeless. She feared for the worst, and screamed out yet again, “GUARDS! THE KING NEEDS YOU!”
The Royal Guard rushed in to tend to the fallen king.
“He’s still breathing! Quick, get him down to the infirmary, and notify Prince Axion of what has happened, HURRY!” ordered Queen Adyána.
They moved into action and carefully brought the fainted king downstairs. Adyána met Axion at the infirmary, “It is best if we tell no one what has happened right now, especially Mitakahn.”
“I agree,” Axion concluded, “He should finish out his schooling without worry.”
Together the prince and queen concealed the king’s condition as best they could. But he only got worse, and it was apparent what was happening to him. Soon, the council was notified, followed shortly by the entire nation, and eventually, the world at large would know that King Theomitus was tragically ill.
All but his son, Mitakahn, would know of the horror and plague that the royal family was going through. Until finally it was getting too dismal to be kept at bay, and time to call Mitakahn home.
THIS SEASON HENCE
Theomitus was at the brink of death, and Mitakahn was just finding out he had a limited amount of time left with his father. The king knew an intimate apocalypse was on the horizon for his family; one he would regrettably be the cause of, one he could not be there to lead a recovery after. His guilt weighed on his body, and his gravity succumbed to depression, a new psychological symptom of the illness.
But soon his mind would rot with the venom invading his body, and the burden would give way to confusion. He wouldn’t talk much; just walk in a constant daze. No longer would his mind be able to lay down plans for the future. It was clear his mind moved past the present and the future, possibly to somewhere else entirely. In order to keep the endless darkness at bay, he found solitude and peace in recalling the past.
Mitakahn often wondered how life would be if perceived through his father’s eyes; in his “on the brink” condition. What arbitrary doors of physical life would be closed, and infinite doors of the rapture opened? Like the shadow from a windowsill retracting from the setting sun. Like the tides on a beach, the pull of the moon, the eventual groove of the universal clock.
Time. Change. Growth