CHAPTER 6 – KING WITH A FABLED PAST
Time withered on, and with each day life struggled and squirmed under the shadow of disease and despair, with a pale sun on the horizon. Mitakahn was heartbroken. By the time he reached his father everything had changed. All hope was lost.
It was not a matter of health, but willpower. After fighting for so long against his unknown ailment, it took everything to keep up what little defenses he had left. Theomitus had only gotten worse since Mitakahn returned home and now it was at an all-time low.
Mitakahn’s expulsion, that total letdown served as a wicked external force, consuming the last of the King’s resilience. But Mitakahn did his best not to let that get to him. Mitakahn endured, as his father did. He kept his chin up with his father, for his father. He would not leave his father’s side out of both savor and penance.
The king did not want to sit still. Theomitus was a courageous king and a valiant warrior. He spent little time talking in his weakened state. Mitakahn could only guess at what thoughts assailed the king’s mind. Perhaps he spent all his time wondering and reminiscing. And there it was… The end of the sentence, the answer to the equation. In the question of the chaos of the human brain as it withers away: at first you look to the future and at last you look to the past. Theomitus sat lost in thought, drifting back to his days as a young warrior.
The horns sounded and young Theomitus approached the gem-portal along with his brothers, clad with the finest armor in the nation. His fair hair feathered in the wind and his smile flickered along with his smooth blue eyes. Theomitus was brimming with pride for his family and his brother. This was his special day. It was the day of the trials. King Benethor’s three oldest sons stepped forth, Theomitus, Baal, and Mitacles, heir to the throne.
The gem-portal grew to its full size and the crowd cheered. It was time. Theomitus had no idea what to expect. Their father always enjoyed keeping his secrets regarding the trials. He was interested in how their quests would go without the influence of his own experience.
Theomitus clutched his shield in one hand and his sword in the other. Baal went with two short swords. The transition was subtle at first. It looked like they were back in the city. The streets of Zepathorum were never to be feared. A blue shadow cast across the buildings.
The princes looked up to find hundred foot giants stumbling into the city. Mindless drones in the shape of clumsy humans, that towered over the citadel itself, rampaged the city. Their vacant eyes hit Theomitus in the heart like steel daggers. He had to tell himself it wasn’t real.
“This way!” Mitacles yelled to his brothers.
They rushed through the streets ignoring the carnage all around them. Trying their best to avoid direct contact with the giants they slipped through the buildings and alleys to get to the citadel. In no time, they were climbing the spiral staircase up the citadel tower. At the top they sprung the hatch to the pointed roof. Mitacles stood with his brothers closely over his shoulders and surveyed Zepathorum. The giants were demolishing the city. They had to act quickly before there was nothing left. There was a brief hesitation in Mitacles’ step. Theomitus couldn’t imagine what his brother was thinking about. With the burden being off of Theomitus he was able to assess the situation free of any added pressure.
“When they pass we need to jump onto them.” Mitacles began to plan.
“We can try to use one to harm or run into the others,” suggested Baal.
“This cannot be the trial, we need to keep our eyes open for the real clue.”
“Follow our lead, Theomitus and keep your head in the game,” ordered Mitacles.
The giants stampeded around town in no discernable pattern. It was impossible to predict when they would come for the citadel. One tragically missed the tower and fell into Lake Niobi sending most of the water splashing from the lake. As the giant started to get back up it dug out a gemstone.
“It’s there, it’s right there!” Theomitus yelled out pointing at the gem.
His brothers had no time for his distractions.
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Mitakahn and Theomitus sat down in the fields of the royal gardens with the lions. Although they were wild animals, an old respect filled their hearts for the royal family. Some ancient property gave the family the ability to walk amongst such alpha predators. The orthodox of the kingdom believed these lions to be the descendants of the mighty Magnanimous. The lion god’s descendants mixed into the local prides of the Serengeti. That bloodline of lion lived in harmony with the Arkenoir House, back to the first days of the kingdom.
The older female, Gabriella, rubbed her giant forehead under Mitakahn’s chin and then sat by Theomitus’ side, as if she was guarding him. She sniffed the air, scanning the troubled king, sensing the dark force that was within him.
Mitakahn got up and played with Maximus, a rambunctious young male lion. His mane was not yet fully grown in but he acted like head of the pride. Theomitus watched as Mitakahn wrestled the friendly lion.
Maximus got pinned by Mitakahn and tried to kick out of his hold, scratching the prince’s leg. Mitakahn backed off and covered the minor wound. The basilisk back at the Sacred Lands did far worse, but he still bled. As a boy, Mitakahn quickly became accustomed to superficial wounds when playing with the lions. Theomitus watched the prince struggle with the pain. He did not move to help him, he wanted to, but he couldn’t. He sat in a trance, getting pulled back by his thoughts.
The heir to the throne had to do his best in the trials. Theomitus’ older brother Prince Mitacles stood at the top of the citadel tower waiting for a giant with the eyes of starbursts to lumber by. He jumped with his sword out. His brother Baal stood on the roof and watched in horror.
He would have to work up the nerve to make the leap himself next. They would not get a better chance than this. Baal jumped and began his climb up the side of the enormous brute. At the summit was Prince Mitacles getting to his feet. It was now a straight shot to the giant’s neck. If he can get to the neck he might be able to bring it down.
Mitacles helped Baal up. He took pride in being able to make the charge together. And then his line of thought took him to the missing one, to Theomitus who was nowhere to be found. Theomitus had left the city altogether. He ignored the attacking giants and descended into the empty lake. There at the bottom, in the glow of the Ignaleos Cor a bubble surrounded the gem. He knew this was the right way, but his brothers were in too deep in the wrong direction. So, Theomitus decided to complete the trials himself.
As Theomitus pushed his way into the bubble, Mitacles and Baal charged at the neck of the giant. The wind was the only warning they got during their charge of the massive hand coming to swat them away. Baal got thrown off the edge while Mitacles was pinned between the hand and its neck. His sword dug into his own leg. Mitacles screamed out in pain.
Baal pulled himself higher and higher up the giant’s arm in an attempt to get back to his older brother. Theomitus watched Mitacles from within the threshold of the gem. He watched as Baal failed to climb back up. Theomitus had the Ignaleos Cor in reach. All he had to do was take it and they would win, but it would be the third-born son anointed for the crown.
Theomitus had no desire for the crown. He was here to help his brother achieve his birthright. It was hard for him to accept it, but the only way he could help Mitacles now was to turn back.
Theomitus stopped and redirected towards the city where Mitacles was still pinned in pain. The giant’s hand released its grip on its own neck and Mitacles tumbled, out of control. Baal reached out and grabbed his brother’s arm. He held tight. Theomitus worked his way from the center of the bubble back to their side.
Mitacles sprung awake and took hold of Baal “Swing me.”
“What?”
“Swing me over.”
“You dropped your sword. Your leg looks broken.”
“I must win this.”
“MITACLES, NO!”
Baal tried to stop him, but it was of no use. Mitacles pushed off his good leg in a desperate lunge for the giant. He pulled a dagger out in midair but was once again swatted down to the ground.
The trials stopped.
It sounded like a mill turning off, a stone and wooden wheel machine slowly grinding to a halt. The cerulean city vanished and Theomitus exhaled. The bubble popped and he spun out of balance, coughing heavily. Theomitus and Baal were dropped next to Mitacles’ limp body. Theomitus reached for his older brother whose eyes were closed. They would never open again. Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.
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Mitakahn wiped the wet tears off his leg and embraced his father. Theomitus wept in Mitakahn’s arms and mumbled incoherently. He begged his son for forgiveness, but Mitakahn could not understand him. The lions circled around the two and rubbed their giant furry heads into the prince’s shoulder. The endearing cats showed their affection with subtle nudges. The prince wanted to break form and cry with his father, but he did not. He rubbed his back and let the king continue.
Mitakahn escorted the king out of the courtyard. He walked on his own, as if driven by his very will rather than physical strength. Mitakahn wondered how his king was doing this and what powerful darkness could hobble a spirit such as his father’s. Mitakahn could never truly get his mind away from that inquiry. Some things you just can’t let go.
He grew anxious and angry, never had there been a case like this of sickness inside their kingdom. The king showed no physical signs like cuts or sores. But he was pale as a ghost and as skinny as a shriveled old man. His bones popped and crackled as if they were going to break at any moment. Mitakahn did not know where they were walking, but he followed his father. He followed his father because it was one of the most inherent and comfortable actions he knew. Mitakahn would follow his father, his king, his hero, to the ends of the world and back if he could.
Mitakahn stopped his father at the head of the stairs. He helped the king down the stairs and had a guard open the gate that separated the downtown district from the Citadel courtyard. Theomitus’ meandering path led them to the outdoor market. Everyone stopped what they were doing and bowed to the king and his prince.
He walked over to one of the farmers who was trying to sell his tanglefruit. They resembled a miniature star bursting forth from all sides, beautiful yet tough yellow-orange skin on the outside, and a juicy pink succulent inside. They were indigenous to the north and the Serengeti only. He kneeled down beside him and whispered into his ear. Mitakahn thought he heard the last couple words.
“-sting glory of our kingdom.”
But it wasn’t enough to make sense of it. The farmer shook his head “yes” and stood, trying to cover his face as a tear rolled down his cheek. The king walked out of the market down a path which led to the beach. Mitakahn lingered, wondering to himself, ‘what did he say to that man that he could not say to me?’
Mitakahn took the king all the way along the beach as they looked out across Lake Niobi. Theomitus loved the beach. Something about sitting on a sandy bed and looking out at a horizon supported by the watery depths appealed to Theomitus. If he was ever taking a break from the throne room he would normally be found on Niobi Beach. He sat down on the sand bed and looked into the reflection of the sky in the lake. He couldn’t help but have his mind wander off again.
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There was little to no talk concerning who would inherit the throne between brothers after the passing of Prince Mitacles. Theomitus lost track of the days as he quested abroad. He spent time with the horse lords at Metuchen beach where he fell in love with one of the western princesses. Theomitus convinced her to visit the Pride with him. When Theomitus returned to his home it was a different place from when he left. An odd gloom cast over the Serengeti giving Princess Adyána no cause to fall in love with the North. Theomitus presented his betrothed to his father for his blessing and got something else back that he did not expect.
‘We must talk at once, Theomitus.”
Theomitus read the room. “Where is my brother, Baal?”
“During your diplomatic missions,” the King explained, “Baal has all but resigned his duties as first general of the army and heir to the throne.”
“I must speak with him.”
“We will let you know when we find him,” the King said.
“I cannot believe things have gotten this bad.”
“This kingdom needs a ruler when I am gone.”
Theomitus looked up at his father and then at Adyana. Where he had lost two brothers he gained a spouse and the start of his own family. “This kingdom will always have a ruler.” He bowed to the King, “This, I promise you, father.”
Not long after Theomitus married Adyána, King Benethor passed away. Their only regret was him not being able to meet his grandchildren. Theomitus became the next king of the Pride. He kept most things the same as when his father ruled. There was one significant change.
As King Theomitus walked down Crimson Boulevard after his coronation, the crowd all kneeling before him, he sought out one specific warrior. Lion Kingdom custom dictated that every new king was allowed to select his own commander of the royal guard.
Well, Theomitus never thought he would be king, but he did often think that one brave warrior in particular was constantly being overlooked for the royal guard. This never did sit well with Theomitus, no. And now, he was in a position to do something about it, an opportunity to right certain wrongs.
He got down close and said to his soldier, “You are a lion of the Pride. Stand with me and take your place in the everlasting glory of our kingdom.”
He placed the tip of his sword from shoulder to shoulder and Cel Adora arose as the Commander of the Royal Guard. She walked with him for the rest of the parade, side by side, along with Queen Adyana and the rest of the prominent figures of the kingdom. Cel’a felt the people cheer for her and the new king. It filled her heart with love for the throne and the Arkenoir House.
Weeks later King Theomitus would ask her to risk her life. She accompanied him to Rosi Island. The new Pride Lorde opened the gem-portal for an unsanctioned journey. He stood before the churning doorway with his companions Commander Cel’a and Mercinestor Casterosi.
“Are you sure about this, my king?”
“Your father ended the trials, what point would be served by risking another visit?”
King Theomitus took his time giving the answer, “This is a crazy world we live in, there is no denying it. Curses are tenacious, finding all sorts of ways to latch onto your legacy. Right now, I can see the clear and present danger of leaving this rite unfulfilled. I will not hand down my legacy without first resolving the problems our generation caused.”
“Now that is a reason I can fight for.”
“We end this once and for all…tonight.”
King Theomitus took Lord Mercinestor and Commander Adora through the gem-portal, back into the fray of the trials.
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Mitakahn threw a rock into the lake and waited for the water to ripple from the impact. Theomitus watched the prince toss the stone with all of his might into the horizon. The sun set Theomitus’ shadow over Mitakahn. The prince felt the comfort of a presence he had been able to count on since birth, and it felt good. Mitakahn feared that his father was losing his mind. He hadn’t spoken in days. He only whispered and mumbled what everyone considered nonsense. Who knew what he was thinking?
Mitakahn would try every day to talk to his father, really talk to him; confront him with the reality of the situation, but he could never find the right words, or the right time. He could never bring himself to admit that his father was going to die. Let alone make him aware of that fact. Instead, they walked together in silence. Sometimes the king would have to lean on the prince. Sometimes he could walk alone. But the day would soon come where he needed Mitakahn to carry him everywhere, and then the day where he could not move at all. The bright days of the kingdom had long since disappeared. Soon times would seem bleaker than ever.
The two returned to the Citadel. “I want to go to the throne room, Mitakahn” requested the King. A simple phrase, as though he had been able to talk with ease.
“As you wish, father...”
They climbed the stairs to the uppermost floors of the tower. It took them a while but soon they reached the throne room. The room was empty. The governing and rule of the kingdom was being controlled by Axion and Queen Adyána from the council room, below them. Theomitus could sit in peace on his throne for his remaining days.
Mitakahn sat by Theomitus’ feet thinking about his childhood, how he used to do this all the time. The King had spent most of his time with his advisors in the throne room, making new laws and tough decisions. Mitakahn as a small child would sit along with him on the throne, below his mighty grip playing with his giant golden ring hanging overhead. Besides that, Mitakahn spent much of his time in the gardens as a boy. He would run along with the royal lions while his mother picked cascadaleas and dover tulips.
Mitakahn remembered when he used to get yelled at for trying to wrestle with the lions. “They play rough, Mitakahn,” his parents would tell him, “too rough for you.” But that never really stopped him.
Instead, Adyána would put Mitakahn on top of the oldest male lion, Raja. Raja was the only shadow lion in the Pride. Theomitus would later reveal to his sons, he found the cub wandering the Serengeti when he had first become king. Orthodox members of the kingdom saw it as a bad omen. Theomitus reveled the animal’s eccentricity.
Being different didn’t make the lion any less majestic. Just as bountiful as the other lions’ manes, Raja showed his magna-crimson shine along the edges of his black hair. The golden blond fur customary for lions only outlined Raja and highlighted his mane. Mitakahn specifically remembered his father telling them as kids that finding Raja finally made Theomitus feel at ease with taking the throne. A lion was not supposed to be golden, a king was supposed to be firstborn. He had been a loyal companion ever since.
The king’s companion watched over both Axion and Mitakahn when they were toddlers. He walked with them through the markets and towns when they were young children as their own personal bodyguard. Raja treated the two young princes as though they were his own cubs. And no one would dare trifle with the shadow lion. Raja gave this particular generation of the Arkenoir House quite the reputation.
In the few times Theomitus had to ride into battle during his reign as king, he did not use a horse like other modern kings. He was akin with the kings of old. He rode Raja without a saddle out of respect for the animal.
Theomitus and Raja would customarily challenge the leaders of bandits or encroaching warlords to a duel before battle. If accepted, Theomitus would always claim victory with the help of Raja. There were ample times where, thanks to Raja, many soldiers of the lion kingdom’s lives were saved.
Mitakahn remembered when Raja died and how it affected his father. Theomitus was heartbroken. Mitakahn realized that was the first time he really remembered dealing with death. Memories of his father pulling him aside, with water-filled eyes but no tears, telling him, ‘Death is a natural part of life, Mitakahn. We all must accept it in our own time. But trust me when I say this…Life’s journey does not end in death. Not even for poor Raja. And it will not end in death for me or you either, not if you don’t want it to.”