CHAPTER 63 – HOUSE CALLISTER
Underneath the painting was a metal plate engraved, “Lib Korbinel del Enti” which translated from ancient tongue read, “Korbin lives with the Gods.” The company had followed Bridger down the regal green carpet toward the throne. There, sitting atop a one-hundred and sixty-eight pointed antler throne, was King Mightier. Standing beside him was Bridger’s mother, the High Shaman and Queen.
They all stopped right in front of King Mightier on his tall throne and bowed. Mitakahn got down and balanced himself between Tron and Humbler. The king told them all to stand while Bridger joined his mother, his two sisters and younger brother before the throne, each bearing a gift.
Although Bridger’s younger sister, Coleandra, was the one who got to distribute the gifts to each of them, the queen took her gift and began with Mitakahn. As High Shaman of the Woodlands, Queen Ilyaretta, interpreted the will of the Stag Gods.
“We have been awaiting your arrival, since the bird of Legacy came for Bridger… You are all on a very sacred path… The great caribou told us of your coming, and our part to play… The Forces of MagnaThora are with you, Mitakahn… We have listened to them well and gathered the tools necessary to complete your journey… Beginning with you…” the Queen finished up, staring deep into Mitakahn’s eyes, reading them intently, “…the center of it all…” she said, with almost a skepticism about her tone.
She stood before Mitakahn and handed him a book, wrapped in brown leather, saying, “You, Mitakahn, prince of the Lion-hearted, get a most curious gift, one not from us.”
He pulled it out of the leather cover and looked through it. It was a worn journal with an ancient emblem on the cover. “Not from you? Then who?” Mitakahn questioned out loud. Neither the Queen nor the King answered him. In fact, King Mightier lowered his head and closed his eyes upon his throne. This struck Mitakahn as odd. Bridger’s sister, Coleandra whispered in his ear, “It was your father’s,” as she walked by to present Excelsior with his gift.
Upon hearing her most impactful words, Mitakahn finally took notice of her and her beauty. She had long golden blonde hair, and big crystal blue eyes, a true maiden of the forest realm.
She handed Excelsior a small bottle with its cork attached to a necklace. He put it on and asked, “What is it?”
“Solaris energas,” murmured Coleandra in an ancient tongue.
“Liquid sun,” the Queen translated as Coleandra brought the next gift over to Tron.
She presented him with a golden armguard. “Go ahead, put it on,” she urged.
Tron slipped the armguard onto his right hand. A perfect fit. All of a sudden the King screamed out, “Guard!” and one of the guards in the room, closest to Tron, came at him with a spear. Being thrown into motion by complete instinct, Tron raised the arm with the golden armguard to block the spear. The armguard clicked and parts of a shield came folding out, connecting on all sides. Before the spear hit Tron, his right arm was now armed with a golden shield, covering him from neck to knee. The spear bounced off Tron’s arm-shield, and the guard returned to his original position. When Tron lowered his arm, the shield clicked once again, and retracted back into a simple golden fore-armguard. Tron now had a nifty new tool in his arsenal.
Coleandra brought the next gift over to Anilithion. But before she could reach him the Queen interrupted, “It appears, young knight, that you have already received a most gracious gift.”
“What does she mean?” Tron whispered to Mitakahn.
Anilithion rubbed the collar of his cloak.
Mitakahn answered Tron, “He got that cloak on the road, after giving a traveler some bread.”
“Would you know, by chance, what kind of cloak this is?” inquired Anilithion.
“It is an ancestral cloak. One made by some of the earliest inhabitants of Crucifire Plains, a warlock’s shroud. Capable of many talents, and by now I am sure that you have witnessed a fair amount of them. ”
“That is right, Queen,” confirmed Anilithion.
“But you shall not leave our royal halls empty handed,” said the Queen as she winked at Anilithion and then nodded to her daughter, to continue the ceremony.
Coleandra stood before Anilithion and said, “You are young, you are decent, you are hope,” as she handed him a brown whip, “May this always be a way to get you where you need to go.”
Anilithion looked at the whip. It was not lavish. It was not intricate. It was a simple whip. Part of him wanted to ask why he would need a whip when he has a perfectly good sword, but he was too awkward to speak up.
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Coleandra took a box from her younger brother Thorax and brought it over to Kunezar, opening it in front of him. Inside was a large decrepit skeleton key. Kunezar took it out and examined it.
“You will know how to use it when the time comes,” she reassured him, “But do not be hasty.”
Kunezar was very interested in the curious key. Did they know something about his life or journey that he did not? What ancient puzzle would he have to unlock in his future? Many more questions rang out in Kunezar’s head as the royal family continued their generosity.
Coleandra walked over to Humbler empty-handed. “Don’t tell me you’re my gift,” he said, chuckling lightheartedly.
The king leapt off the throne with an enormous sledgehammer in his hand towards Humbler. King Mightier slammed it down just before Humbler, scaring him enough to never take another look at Coleandra. “No.”
“This is.” When he threw the hammer into Humbler’s giant hand, the proportions returned to normal. Humbler took a sigh of relief and admired his new weapon. Two joys erupted inside him at once, his affinity for smashing and the fact that he no longer had to worry about not having his sword anymore. Thankfully, the company had not met much trouble after the border patrol. Now, Humbler was prepared for anything.
Oddly, he felt more comfortable with the sledgehammer than he did with his sword, which made him wonder why he did not think to arm himself with a sledgehammer in the first place. The edge of the circle that was the face of the hammer had whittled antler spikes woven into it. There was also a giant ivory horn sticking out of the back. The handle was smooth, finished wood with a couple of long sloped ridges. And there were two thick brown polished leather straps holding the head of the sledgehammer and the handle together, with two phrases carved into the leather straps saying, “Soft Soul” and “Stern Stroke” in the woodland tongue.
Bridger was left holding the final gift. A thick piece of wood perfectly arched, injected and finished with thin strips of shiny metal.
King Mightier began as Bridger stepped forward, ready to present the gift to… he did not know who, as everyone now had something.
“It is a bow that only a true knight of the Stag Realm can wield, and my gift to you… son.”
Bridger’s head popped up and he turned around.
“It was just molded together in the furnaces of the woodlands,” explained King Mightier, now back on his throne, “The best weapon our kingdom can offer.”
Bridger adored the bow. He held it close. It meant the world to him. He took two steps away from the altar and stopped himself.
“I can’t.” Bridger looked at Mitakahn. “I can’t abandon my kingdom if what the phenom god said is true. I’m sorry Mitakahn. I must stay behind and help my family prepare for the darkness.”
“Please son, do not be so deliberate. I have been preparing for the return of the darkness my entire reign as king. You have the right to assist Mitakahn on his quest. It is the will of the gods. You embolden the Stag Kingdom and the House Callister name by escorting prince Mitakahn, the godwalker, on his mission.”
“For once father, will you take my lead. I can do more good here helping you prepare.”
King Mightier seemed to diminish the towering effect he had on the room from the throne altar. He got up close to his son Bridger.
“My father named me Mightier because he wanted me to be the strongest ruler in MagnaThora. That choice in namesake led me to a brutal life. Years of border disputes. Some called it a war. I was party to insurmountable bloodshed. Some battles we fought none other than Mitakahn’s father, his rest in ever-lasting glory. All my father’s intentions led to was blood and carnage, a tainted legacy I inherited.
After his time was up and it became my turn to rule, I vowed to do better. For my own reasons I named my heir with the same intention of a namesake fate binder. I intended for you, my son, to be a bridge amongst all people of MagnaThora. Why do you think I insisted on the Academy? Now here you are.”
King Mightier smiled and continued, “rescuing a lion prince, on the back of a wanderer’s canine, no less. I couldn’t be more proud of you. So, I beg you… hold true. Stay the course. Do not falter after all you have been through.”
“Yes, father. I understand now. I give you my word as knight and prince, I will stay by my friends’ side and see this through until the end.”
“You honor your family greatly, prince Bridger. May you go now with all the blessings of the Woodland Realm.”
Bridger bowed to his king and father and rejoined Mitakahn’s ranks. They had all armed themselves sufficiently and made their way through to the balcony over the other side of the falls. Mitakahn marveled at the waterfalls as he carefully found room to put the journal in his pack. He had already decided on what to do with it. As if it was never really a choice at all. He would record all his past dreams, any dreams to come, and any connections real or theoretical between them. He would start a testimony of these events for future generations to read.
He opened the first page and began to write about the dream he had the night before he was expelled. It seemed like ages ago, but not even a year had passed since. Over the remainder of his journey, Mitakahn would record all of his dreams before he forgot them. And later in his life, when times were calm, he would finally put it all together…granted he survived.
The rest of the group finished packing and met him outside on the balcony. Before they left for the kayaks, Princess Coleandra bid them farewell and good luck.
“May the gods go with you, and do what they can, just as we, in helping you complete your journey.”
King Mightier had sent a messenger to the outpost at River Fork Ford to close the dam and slow the river’s current for ease of travel North. They would use the kayaks to make quick work of the final leg of their journey. The trip was a refreshing change of pace, not having to walk. They could switch off on paddling, all except Orion had to paddle at least some of the way.