~One hundred and forty-two years ago (the year 1716 AA)
~Saturday
~ the Raphael Kingdom
***
It was a cloudy day. King Rafiyan Daljari stood with his son, Rafiyan Nazara, better known as prince Niyashi, on the palace grounds. On his left was a beautiful young woman with long hair. Although all of them had silky red hair, hers was too long.
Twenty horses mounted by twenty riders stood in front, awaiting the King's orders.
It was the royal tour day for King Daljari, but the clouds were threatening to prevent that.
The King sighed after spending some time staring at the sky. He said, "It's already written that I would go out on tour today and on our way back, it would rain. We can do nothing about fate. Saddle the mount."
They got ready and left the palace.
They went through the royal farm that surrounded the city to the outskirts of the town and into the surrounding forest.
Everything thing happened the way the King said it would: they toured throughout the day and it only rained on their return journey. An umbrella was fixed for the King and they continued.
Soon they reached a small forest that lied between two giant rocks. The rocks made the rainfall splash to the ground like a flood. It created a small lake that blocked the only way out of the mountains.
One of the warriors went ahead of them and clapped his hands, chanting an incantation. In response, the surrounding soil turned into desert and the water dried off and a path emerged.
The king led them ahead. The rain continued to splash down but their path was cleared. Halfway through the rocks, the King suddenly reined his horse. He gestured to two of his soldiers toward a rock.
The guards nodded and galloped toward the rock. They pointed at it and it evaporated into thin air.
When the dust cleared, they found a teenager with long red hair just like the King's and his children's.
The two soldiers drew their swords to restrain the boy, but King Daljari stopped them. "Can't you see he is shivering with fear? Sheath your swords."
He galloped forward and dismounted in front of the boy. "What is your name, young man?"
The boy looked at the King and said, "My name is Bihanzin."
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The King sighed. "We don't have such a name in these parts, but we have your type of hair. Where are your parents? And from where did you come from?"
"I came from Kissybui. My parents died on the way."
"Kissybui!" One of the soldiers roared at Bihanzin. "A King of Jinzidal is talking to you, you'll die if you lie. In all the seven worlds, there is nowhere called KISSYBUI!"
King Raphael raised his hand, stopping the soldier. "Let him go on, he isn't lying by the look of it. What are you doing here, boy?"
"I came to preach the religion of the sword."
"Religion of the sword? What do you mean by that?" It was Niyashi who asked the question.
"You told me not to lie, that is why I tell the truth," answered Bihanzin. "My father told me so before dying, but I am yet to understand what he meant by it."
The King looked Bihanzin up and down before he sighed and said, "Young boy, you can come with me for a shelter if you have none."
"Really? Let's go then. I have been so hungry," Bihanzin answered in haste.
The King laughed and pointed to Nazara and the girl beside him. "These are my children, Nazara and Hilhusa. Nazara, help him up to your horse. From now, he is your friend."
Nazara helped Bihanzin up his mount without protest, and they rode toward the city.
King Rafiya took Bihanzin home as an orphan in the year 1716 AA.
***
YEAR 1720AA
***
Prince Niyashi sat with his father, King Rafiya, in the throne room.
"Old man Dalja, it has been four years since you took in that boy, Bihanzin, but you are yet to tell me why," Niyashi said, looking at his father.
King Rafiya smiled. "The way you have a potent bloodline that prevents you from getting older, I also suspect that boy to have a very strong one. I am yet to know what it is, but I have a feeling that that boy has a role to play in this world."
At the same time when the King and his son were having that discussion, Bihanzin was taking sword lessons with the princess.
Commander Kabaru was their tutor.
"We'll have a sparring session between Bihanzin and Hilhusa. As the first round of fencing, you two can use your strength on your opponent. But you have to be careful not to injure each other," the tutor said.
The fight began. Bihanzin immediately did a gentle maneuver, sliding and hitting princess Hilhusa on the arm to disarm her. A black smoke emerged from his body and hit Hilhusa, breaking her arm in half.
Bihanzin and the commander were dumbfounded. That was the first time Bihanzin ever saw the black smoke.
Hilhusa was immediately taken to the hospital and treated.
She was discharged after a week. Many people wanted to kill Bihanzin for what he did, but the King stopped them. "Whoever got injured on the battlefield should blame themselves, not their opponents," he would say.
That day, the King earned Bihanzin's respect. He valued him more than anything else. And Bihanzin started calling him 'old man Dalja' as his children did.
Two weeks later...
Hilhusa's fracture started to bleed. She was readmitted to the hospital. The doctor examined it and told them it was yet to heal. And the broken arm was treated all over again.
Hilhusa had to stay in the hospital for another three days. Everything was okay after that and the princess was discharged afterward.
But then, a week later, the arm started bleeding again. She had to be readmitted to a hospital again. You would think that was the end of her suffering and she would be fine for good, right? But no. Soon after the third discharge, the bleeding started again. It happened, again and again, twenty-four times. It just refused to heal.
The chief doctor of the palace told the King that Hilhusa had sustained an unknown type of injury that could never be mended nor healed. He called it 'perpetual injury'.
So the first thing that became known among Bihanzin's many devilish ways was Hilhusa's 'perpetual injury'.