CHAPTER 5 -REGRETS
He shook the older man harder now, and his voice was raised in alarm.
“Grandfather?”
“Garent?”
“Wake up!”
“Guards, Thery!” He shouted in panic.
Gregor’s steward hurried into the room and saw Gregor shaking his grandfather who was lying on the couch, unresponsive. He rushed to their side and stopped Gregor from shaking him. Cautiously, Thery put his ear next to the old man’s nose and paused while Gregor watched in concern. One of the two guards had left, likely to alert his father and call a physician.
--
The family sat in the room around the old man’s bed. He was alive and breathing, but he could not be woken. Only his mother and sister were missing.
“I don’t understand, he was completely fine this morning…” his grandmother choked out around tearful eyes.
“Explain once again.” Garshik ordered his son.
“I came by for a late lunch. While we were waiting for the food to arrive, we played a game of draughts, then arm-wrestling, but it was not serious. I did not put effort into it, and neither did he… We ate and talked and then we sat down to have tea. He sat in that couch over there, and I sat across from him. I was just talking about how I wanted to continue to meet regularly, and then I looked over… I looked over and he had fallen asleep. I tried waking him up so that he could move to his bed because I know he had not been feeling well. But when he did not wake up no matter how loud I was or how I shook him, I shouted for Thery and the guards. Thery stopped me and then checked if he was breathing. Together, with the guard, we carried him to the bed and tried to wake him up once more before leaving him.”
His father nodded. It was not the first time Gregor explained, and he would not ask him to explain again. He breathed in slowly, wondering what he should do next.
“Very well, for now we let him sleep and get his rest. Hopefully he will wake up healthy and well-rested, but regardless, the physician’s assistant will not leave his side. In the meantime…” the emperor looked at the physician, inviting him into the conversation.
“In the meantime, I will consult other practitioners to see if they have come across anything similar to this before we attempt anything else. If he does not wake, we have salts that we can provide which may force him to wake up, and we also have incense. I will gather everything and learn as much as I can. I will be back before sunrise.”
“See to it that you are.”
Gregor stood by silently, watching the physician leave and his father run his hand through his hair. His grandmother had pulled up a chair by the bed and was holding his grandfather’s hand as he slept. A part of Gregor realized that it was the first time he had seen his father and his grandfather in the same room. But the thought was fleeting, labeled as unimportant when compared to the state his grandfather was in.
Garshik squeezed his Zana’s shoulder, then turned to Gregor, “come, they will do all they can. We can return tomorrow morning when the physician comes back.” He then turned to his mother, “I will not take you with me, but I believe it will be better for you if you come as well.” Zana looked up at Garshik, then back down at her husband. Slowly she shook her head.
Garshik nodded, “In that case, I will have food sent up. Please remember to get some rest.”
With Gregor next to him, the emperor walked out of the room, ordering his steward ahead to make sure food was prepared. The two walked towards the dining hall in silence, and it was not until after dinner that they had a brief conversation of a few lines.
“Make sure you rest as well.”
“I will.”
“If you wish, have Thery wake you up early.”
“I will.”
Garshik looked at his son, wishing there were something more he could say, but there was nothing.
--
The three were in the room again, alongside their stewards, the guards, the physician, and his assistant. It was still dark, and clouds hid the stars. Candles were lit, flickering and causing shadows to dance throughout the room. The door to the balcony was opened slightly, and the pre-sunrise winds crept in, carrying a chill through the room. The physician had said the chill would be good. Even if it did not help Garent wake up, it would prevent him from sweating. Incense was already burning, a sweet smell -too sweet. It made Gregor’s stomach churn, but he saw no discomfort upon his father’s or grandmother’s face. The physician’s assistant wafted the smell throughout the room before putting out the burning incense stick with a quick pinch. They fully opened the door to the balcony then, as well as the door to the corridor, letting the breeze clear the room of the sweet smell.
“First we must prime his nose and his mind. Then as the sun rises, we will place the salts in front of his nose. That is when we can wake him up. It would be best if those he is closest to call to him. Whatever you addressed him as while he was awake, simply say that. Between calling his name, cooling his body, shocking his nose, and allowing sun to light up the room, he should respond.”
Gregor knew nothing of what the physician was saying, nor of any of the science or reasoning as to how anything would work. He did not bother to ask. The emperor’s son merely stood at the side, cursing his own inability to help. He should have visited his grandfather sooner and not worried about his relationship to the Tyrant. If only he had never heard his father’s speech, then he would have gone to his grandfather the very next day. The inside of his cheek began to hurt, but he did not realize he was biting it.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
The physician waited, monitoring his grandfather’s pulse by keeping a few fingers over his wrist. Despite the cold breeze, sweat could be seen glistening on the physician’s face in the candlelight. He had everything ready, a small canister with the salts, some cold water, more incense sticks and a bag filled with various equipment, all of which was useless now. He soaked a rag in the cold water and began wiping the old man’s wrinkled face. Despite being comatose in bed, Garent inhaled sharply when his face was wet. But aside from that, there was no response.
Next the physician began burning a second stick of incense. This one smelled warm, like cinnamon and freshly baked bread. Gregor looked at the stick in wonder for a split second before he turned back to his grandfather.
“Start calling for him, wake him up” the physician instructed.
In his lack of understanding, Gregor was skeptical of the commands and the ritual nature of the procedure. But this physician learned from those who had helped previous emperors and their families. They knew things that no other person knew. This was their trade, just as leading an empire was his father’s. So despite his skepticism, Gregor tried to believe.
It came easier than he would have expected. The cool breeze sent shivers down his back, contrasting the warmth of the light and scents brought in by the physician. It helped that he wanted to believe.
Zana was the first to break the solemn silence, calling the old man’s name as she squeezed his hand tightly. “Garent.”
She spoke softly at first, hesitantly.
“Garent.”
“Wake up.”
“Please wake up” she begged, but her voice began to crack.
“Grandfather.” Gregor joined in.
The two of them alternated, the old woman calling for her husband while the boy called for his grandfather. They begged him to wake up, talking of stuff they had not yet done. Gregor called out, “We never played other forms of draughts, and I never had a chance to beat you. We were supposed to keep playing until I was finally able to. And weren’t we supposed to have dinner together today?”
“My husband, my heart, Garent. You need to wake up. Your family is here. I’m here. We had just started talking again. If I don’t have you with me, how will I visit our home? You promised me we would sit under the tree you used to climb. We would have a picnic. Wake up my love. Wake up.” Zana called out, as tears began to fall from her face unhindered, leaving the sleeping man’s hand wet as she cradled in her arms. She cried, disregarding the others in the room. The guards looked away, as did the stewards, trying to offer her some form of privacy and in Thery’s case, trying to hide his own tears.
As she spoke, sunlight streamed into the room. The morning rays lit up the room a bright orange and rendered the candles useless, but no one put them out. The hue shifted as the two continued calling Garent, and when the room shone, the emperor spoke up. Everyone else held their breath, suspended by hope.
“Father,” Garshik began, in a voice deeper than Gregor had ever heard before “I know we have not been close. I know you wanted to talk. I’m here now. Talk to me.”
It felt like an eternity passed between Garshik’s first words and when he turned to the physician in anger a few moments later. Before them emperor had a chance to ask the man why Garent did not wake, the physician opened the small canister of salts. “Your majesty, I would not advise smelling this, for they are quite strong.”
The emperor continued to stare at the man, watching as he brought the salts closer to his father’s nose. Although Garshik was not near the canister, he could smell it. Sharper than cat’s urine, the smell went straight into his head and he could feel it behind his skull. It made his heart beat faster and he reflexively opened his eyes wider. Garshik looked down at his father then, and he saw the man’s eyelids quiver, but they stayed shut. The physician passed the salts under the old man’s nose once more, then again as he wiped the man’s face with the cold cloth, but Garent did not move.
Again, the physician quickly spoke up, “your majesty, I believe it may be a form of sleep paralysis. We should have a priest in here overnight and try again tomorrow. His heart is still beating, and his eyes move, so there is a chance.”
“For your sake, you better hope that he has a chance.” Garshik roughly ordered, then turned to his steward and commanded him with the same harsh tone, “see that he and his assistant are taken care of. Not a word of this gets out, or everyone in this room will not see the next day. None of you are to leave this palace until this is taken care of.”
With that, the emperor stormed out of the room.
--
Four days passed of trying the same thing. Each day they had less and less tears. On the fifth day as they witnessed Garent’s withering face and cracked lips, as they made noise by crashing metal against metal, as they tried every last thing, the emperor gave up. He ordered everyone out of the room. When it was only Garshik and his sleeping father, he knelt next to the bed, whispering an apology, “Father, please forgive me for everything I’ve done.”
He sat in silence, motionless, as the sun moved past its zenith.
“…forgive me for what I will do.”
Garshik left the room silently, not saying anything to his family gathered behind the door. He gave no orders to his steward or the guards, and he ignored the physician as his steps faded down the hallway. Gregor and Zana stepped back into the room, taking their places at the side of the bed.
The emperor’s only son imitated his father, and ordered that the room be kept empty, but he told Thery to bring up food for himself and his grandmother. Together, Zana and Gregor spent their time by Garent’s side. Neither of them spoke, and their hope was evaporating.
With servants in tow, Thery brought the food up and prepared the table before leaving the room and waiting outside the door. As had become their habit, there was a third plate with an empty chair left in front of it. The two of them would wait for a few minutes before they cut into the food and broke the bread, but Garent never joined them. They nibbled at their food and sent most of it back.
Gregor’s tutors began to wonder where he was, for lessons were scheduled to start four days prior. But he spent his time at his grandfather’s side.
When night came, everyone returned to their own rooms, retiring early so that they may rise before the sun the next day. Then they would watch as the nervous physician would try again and again to wake up Gregor’s grandfather.
-
It was on the tenth night that Garshik entered the room. He walked in quietly, alone, carrying a candle. Closing the door behind him, he set the candle down on the nightstand next to his father’s bed. By the soft light he studied the old man’s weathered and wrinkled face. His cheeks had sunken, and his skin was dry. White hair splayed out on the pillow, Garent breathed evenly, in and out, just as he had for the past ten nights.
There was a steady pattern to his breathing that contrasted his withered appearance. Garshik had never expected to see his father in such a condition, he had seen corpses that looked livelier. The candle continued to flicker, burning until it reached the end and could burn no more. Through it all, the emperor did not move.
He sat there in the faint moonlight for over an hour before he whispered, “I’m sorry.”
Standing up, he grabbed a pillow and put it over his father’s face. He had hoped the man might struggle only to wake up and yell at him, to attack him in retaliation, but he did not move. After an age, the man stopped breathing, and a corpse lay in the bed.
Garshik put the pillow back and kissed his father’s forehead, “I’m sorry I let you suffer for so long.”
He walked out of the room, taking his melted candle with him.
The next morning, the physician pronounced Garent dead.