CHAPTER 7 – A KNIGHT FROM THE WEST


    The day grew late. Theomitus had fallen asleep in his throne. Mitakahn was too emotional to stir the king awake. Theomitus had not been able to sleep for days. So the prince let him rest and went for a walk by himself outside. On his own time during the night, he walked the beach of Lake Niobi, which bordered the southern edge of his city. Mitakahn used this as a quiet way to release his despair.


    He didn’t want to be a part of it anymore. He wanted to run away and not be who he had to be. At the peak of his despair a tear ran down Mitakahn’s cheek and got lost in his beard. He rubbed his face and looked up. He looked up for something, anything to help him through this tough time, help so he would never feel alone. And in that moment he found a figure in the moonlight reflected off the lake, walking a horse on the beach. It was his Uncle Anilithyìstad (Anilith-y-istat) Borigini, Queen Adyána’s younger brother. He was the future king of Metuchen Point and the Steed Kingdom. Anilithyìstad was also a knight of the Silver Den, one of Mitakahn’s few relatives to attend the same school as him.


    Metuchen Point was the old home of Adyána and her family’s kingdom. Anilithyìstad along with his father, King Avalahn, ruled the western beaches. The great kingdom of Metuchen was the capital of the Steed Kingdom. Metuchen was made up of a tremendous palace on the shore that ended on the water with a lighthouse. To the eastern end the massive hall stretched into a ranch with gates and horse trails as far as the eye could see, until eventually, remaining on an eastern pursuit, the landscape turned into a jungle thicket.


    This thicket stood as the border between the horse kingdom and the rest of the world, making it one of the outer rim nations. Along with the Lion and Stag Kingdoms, they made up the last three monarchies in all the land. The capital of the ShoreLands was named Metuchen Point after the lighthouse built to help lost travelers find their way. The lighthouse rivaled the Zepathorum Citadel, where it housed the royal family and the kingdom’s throne.


    Other nations mocked the Steed Kingdom as a primitive culture, but the Shorelanders were outstandingly progressive in many of their customs, even though their fundamental beliefs have always remained traditional. An outsider could never perceive that. Natives to the shore found the best quality of life being as in touch with the natural world as possible.


    King Avalahn, Anilithyìstad’s father, still ruled Metuchen as king, but had long since given all responsibilities to Anilithyìstad. Taking an early retirement would enable his son to get ahead of the game and learn firsthand what it was like to rule a kingdom while he was still young. Upon hearing of Adyana’s tragedy, Avalahn decided to come out of retirement so Anilithyìstad could go to his sister’s aid. Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.


    Mitakahn looked at the mighty warrior walking his stallion as he came into focus under the moonlight. Anilithyìstad stood before him.


    “I have come to you, now… nephew, in the darkest of days. In these grave times we must remember that clear thought and right judgment matter most.”


    Anilithyìstad was a friendly and compassionate uncle to the boys growing up. He was playful and a shoulder to cry on. He treated his nephews from another kingdom as warmly as his own kin. But that was just one side of him. This same man was also a fierce and feared warrior amongst the eight kingdoms. He was severe when he needed to be and brandished the familial Borigini temper when cornered.


    He shared many similar facial features with Mitakahn’s mother. His thick brown hair, identical eyes, and yet his tough exterior granted him the opposite image of Adyána. His broad shoulders and rigid chest gave him a look as hard as stone. Anilithyìstad was dressed in a black leather tunic, with brown chain mail underneath it. It looked as though he was dressed for battle. Maybe he thought the war that was raging here was one he could actually fight with fist and sword. But lo, it was an unwinnable battle that he was walking into; and Mitakahn could attest to that. Mitakahn was still too wrenched in agony to speak. So Anilithyìstad sat down beside his nephew and they both watched the moonlit lake in silence.


    Some time went by. Mitakahn tucked his head down and tried to clean his face of his tears without Uncle Anilithyìstad seeing his weakness. But Anilithyìstad was well aware, without looking, of why his grief-stricken nephew was sitting alone on a twilight beach.


    “It’s all going to be okay.”


    “You’re just saying that” responded Mitakahn, “You don’t know.”


    “I think you misunderstood me…” Anilithyìstad explained, “Your father may die, we all die. Life goes on.”


    “Not my life,” rebutted Mitakahn, “I don’t want a life without my father.”


    “I understand, Mitakahn, and nothing I say can change how you feel,” Anilithyìstad tried to reason with him, “but you will find your way…”


    After that short conversation they went back to silence. Anilithyìstad didn’t want to upset Mitakahn any further. Hopefully, his words had found a spot and sunk into Mitakahn’s heart, even if he was not eager to accept it. In any matter, they sat comfortably in the sand and stared at an encroaching darkness beneath the night sky.


    Anilithyìstad’s horse gave a short whinny and nudged the back of his head. He turned around to see a single window lit in the citadel tower, his sister’s room. Anilithyìstad turned back around, “Let us go back to your great hall and think this through. There is still hope, brave prince, do not get lost in your sorrows just yet….” The wise knight grabbed his horse’s reins, and they walked on the beach, three in a row, back to the citadel.