A Dying Wish
"My lord, our king is not well. He can not aide us at this hour! This is simply a waste of time... we are prolonging the inevitable, Tevaria's wrath will rain upon us !"
The Prince shakes his head, Galen can be so dramatic at times.
"Galen, the King will answer to me. I assure you, we will be fine."
Placing a reaffirming hand upon his quartermaster's shoulder, the Prince continues to rush to the king's quarters. The King will answer to me... won't he ?
At the end of the grand hall, two giant persimmon doors stand closed, two Calthian Knights stand guard in front.
"Stand aside, I wish to see the King."
The two knights stood firm, but perplexed at the sight of the prince.
"My lord, forgive our hesitation , you may pass, but we cannot allow Sir Galen to follow."
The Prince raised his brow, nodded towards the knights and turned to Galen. " Report to the barracks, I will address the King." Reluctantly, Galen followed the orders, and proceeded to head to the barracks.
The doors, massive in stature, slowly swung open, allowing the prince to enter the King's chambers. While the night normally keeps most of the castle dark, the chamber was dimly lit by a few candles and lanterns, but mostly from the ominous orange glow passing through the stained glass windows. The King's bed chamber lay open, allowing whatever air to pass through. Atop of the bed, lie the King, hands folded on top of each other, placed above his stomach. The Prince approached the side of the bed, and knelt. Grabbing a wet linen cloth from beside the bed, he wiped of some dried blood from the purse of the King's mouth.
"My King.. My King, your orders sir."
Not a whisper, or subtle movement followed.
The Prince shifted, and proceeded to come closer to the ear of his ever-resting King.
"Father, the Tevarians are approaching. They aim to breach our walls. What will you have me do ?"
The King coughs, and attempts a few words under his breath, though muddled with blood and mucus. The prince inched closer towards his King, his father.
"Even in an obvious time for action, you still doubt yourself, Laurenth."
The King sits up, Laurenth aiding. He feels for his son's face with his callous hands. Gazing upon his heir, the King's eyes greyed, filled with a silky haze. Cloudy his eyes might be, a plethora of wisdom was kept behind them. Blinded in battle by dark magic, he utilizes his touch and hearing for sight, holding the prince's face. Soft to the touch.
"Take command of the legions, trust your knights, for they have seen many battles, as have you. Though, you need not use your keen foresight to see what is coming, my son. Tevarian's are brutes. Their strength will outweigh the spirit of our archers. "
Laurenth hesitates to respond, his disbelief overwhelming. Is he admitting defeat? Have he no faith in our armies? In me?
"Father the walls surely can not fall, we will triumph today ! I will lea-"
The King places his hand over his son's mouth, Laurenth's hand follows his fathers. The King moves to hold his son's hand.
"Today, I leave you in command of the Kingdom of Calthiana, responsible for her peoples, armies, and honor. Her walls will be breached, and city set ablaze, but our spirit will forever linger, and thanks to you, my King, her people will live."
Tears stream from Laurenth's father's eyes.
"As for you my son, trust your judgment, for the lives and wisdom of all kings of our Kingdom now lie within you. My time has come, I can no longer carry Calthiana to the peaceful meadows, for that is your task now. Take command, lead the people to safety, use the armadas, or stay and defend our honor. Fight and secure our place in this sect of Calthiana history. I leave the choice to you my son. Whatever your heart and mind decide, will be your first decision as King.
My dying wish..to be there to witness it."
Laurenth sits still, trembling from his father's words. He gazes upon his aged face, no longer moving, with breathing coming to a rest. Laurenth closes his fathers eyes, and lays his hands on his chest. His father's sword lies at his feet.
He grasps the hilt of his fathers sword. His sword. Taking the scabbard in his other hand, he slams the butt-end down on the marbled floor. The two knights open the door and enter the room, Sir Galen follows. They approach, eventually noticing the events that have passed. Without hesitation, the two knights draw their swords, and kneel. Sir Galen pauses for a moment, distraught at the sight of the passed former King, then follows the knights in kneeling.
King Laurenth arises, with his fathers sword in hand and his scabbard tied to his belt.
Sir Galen looks up at his new leader.
"Your orders, my king?"
-Iolas
