Chapter One - The Stirring (Incomplete)
“I am the king!” Jarius slammed one fist on his royal throne
as he pointed another at the man standing in front of him.
“Are you forgetting who put you there?” Calm as he always
was, Avenzel rested upon his staff in the center of the throne room surrounded
by Jarius’ counselmen, as he spoke,
“Jarius, have you forgotten what it means
to be king, what it means to be the lord of the Aeden throne? I have told you
from the very start that the burden upon your shoulders would be
far too great for any one man to carry, and the power, far too tempting for any
one man to bear. It was not for your strengths that you became the chosen king;
it was by your potential. Yes, Jarius, you are the king, and now act like one.”
There were some gasps from the council as Avenzel spoke
those words. No one else would dare to speak to Lord Jarius in this manner. The
law allowed Jarius to execute anybody who offends him especially within his throne room.
Jarius had brought the kingdom of Aeden back from ruins. His councilroom was
testament to the fact with its rounded hall and seven supporting pillars that
seemed to take forever to reach the ceiling that was painted like the heavens. The thirteen lesser thrones
surrounding the Aeden throne adorned with gold encircled the counselroom. A path between two lesser thrones that led directly to the middle of the room began at the main grand entrance.
Protecting the main entrance of the counselroom stood a gate so grand that it requires
two men to open.
The wealth of the nation could be seen painted on the walls, pillars,
and ceiling as though creation was birthed from this place.
“Avenzel, do not use your wise words against me! I owe you a
great debt for your service to me, but I would not be silent as you mock me in
front of my counsel.”
“Can’t you see that you have been blinded? My child, open
your eyes to see that the so-called wisdom that you have consulted has scaled
your eyes. The words in whisper are the hardest to forget and so are the words
of spite. Hatred has been planted, Jarius, do not let it win.”
“Can you listen to this old man any longer, my Lord?” Shaphira,
the governor of the northern territories of Flynt and Barbiscus who sat two thrones away from the king's right, could not hold
her tongue any longer, “Avenzel, you have been excused from the court with
dignity, do you want to be escorted out with nothing left?”
“Woman, do you think I care about trivial face and social
piety?” Avenzel’s stare though wrinkled with age lingered with determination
and fire, “This is a matter beyond any of you so-called counselmen. You have
excused me as a member of counsel, yes, but I am here as a citizen of
Aeden and have every right to seek the king for an audience as stated in our laws. You can lock yourselves in the
emerald rooms that you possess later, but be you all warned that there is a
fire burning from the very foundations of this soil!”
“Shaphira,” The King spoke, “Did I call upon your counsel?
It would do you good to know your place in this hierarchy. As for your
‘concern’, my dear friend, it holds no importance in this court; you may leave
if there be naught left to be said.”
“There is one more thing to be said,” Avenzel gazed as the
floor as if contemplating his next words, “You are all fools to think that you
are above what is coming. As in the words of the prophet Enzer, ‘the council
will not be deaf but still would not hear; they will not be blind but still
would not see...’”
“You were the very one who told me that Enzer was a nut.”
“Yes, I did call him that. Not for his wisdom, but for
his stubbornness. He saw no better time than the present and was rash in his
actions and words. Much like how you are rash in dismissing me.”
“Guards, take him away!” No one could ever testify to have
seen the king lose his anger as such before, but before the guards could lay a
hand on him, Avenzel turned around to face them and the guards stayed their place.
Avenzel’s gaze was terrifying as he walked out of the counselroom unescorted. The sound of the king’s agony was cut short by
the shutting of the great doors that stood at the entrance of the counselroom.
As Avenzel walked past the gates of the multitudes of men
and women waiting in line to gain audience with the king, he whispered the lyrics of an
old rhyme:
Listen to the old for
their stories to be told
Listen to the wise
for their stories in their eyes
Listen to the brave
for their stories in their days
Listen, oh you,
young; the fire has begun
Beyond the setting
star rises a mist upon the ground
And through the misty
clouds no nature can be found
What lies beyond the
peaks of Carringon’s Steep?
What
moves in the night while we lay asleep?
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As the evening drew and the last of the citizens in line to
see the king departed, Jarius rose from his throne, strode behind it, passed
the golden high curtains, and fell into his resting chamber. His counselmen
knew better than to question his haste exit, they knew that Avenzel had a knack
at getting on the king’s nerves as well as pretty much everyone else, but
peace was beyond him that evening. Jarius laid there reclined on his mattress
staring into the ceiling as he pondered on the words of Avenzel, and though he
hated to admit it, he knew that Avenzel often spoke true.
Avenzel was probably the only man he could truly trust – not
even his counselmen had his full confidence. Avenzel was the man that made it
possible for him to be king. Avenzel was the man who saw the potential in his
scrawny limbs. It was Avenzel who plucked him out of poverty when he was just a
youth and entrusted him within the care of the palace stables. It was Avenzel
that recommended him to be the next Captain of the Stallions after Rider Mavin
retired, and it was Avenzel that got the counsel to make him the king after
Lord Jolan was killed in battle. Avenzel was in every step, and yet Jarius
never truly understood why. Avenzel has never been clear about his attentions
to Jarius. Whenever he was asked why, Avenzel would reply with some wise words
such as ‘time unfolds all questions and answers them with patience’ or ‘a man
who knows his destiny may fall short of it.’
That was Avenzel: always speaking in riddles.
Deep in his thinking, Jarius did not hear someone
approaching and he jumped the moment a feminine face appeared in his line of sight. He
sat up to see a beautiful face with a beautiful smile; Kanra, his third wife
from Lokyeshin, giggled, “Sorry, did I startle the king?”
“You can’t startle the king,” He replied. All his worries
forgotten for a moment, Jarius put a smile on his face. “Nothing happens without
the king knowing it. I merely acted startled to entertain you.” They both
laughed at the lie. He held her hands in his. “What brings you
into my humble abode?”
“You’re late for dinner, and the entire royal family is
hungry.” At that Jarius turned out his window to realize that the sun had set
and the city was quiet.
“Sorry, Kanra, I was troubled.” Kanra went closer into his
embrace at those words.
“I heard that the old man paid you a visit?”
“Yes, he did, but that is a matter for another time. As they
say, lay aside troubles for the night, as good sleep solves most of them.”
“Good sleep and good wine.”
“Come,” said Jarius after a laugh, “Let’s eat.” Jarius held Kanra's hand as the headed for the banquet hall, but before leaving, Jarius turns back to the window and sees the small lights from the houses below. He sees the point where the sky touches the earth. He sees the massive towering mountain whose
three main peaks could be clearly made out in the darkness. He sees what seems to be a small light
emerging from the middle peak.
“Daydreaming again?” Kanra said tugging his hand. Jarius steals
one more stare at the window before following her out the door.
He could never refuse
Kanra. One could say she was his favorite of his three wives. He married his
first, Aeshen, due to his kingly duties to keep Jolan’s bloodline. Aeshen is
Jolan’s niece and she was the youngest of marriageable age, but still four
years older than Jarius. She has been loyal, but she has always been a little
too picky about the finer details. Senphin, his second wife, was another
political marriage to stop the territory of Calaphan from revolting. Though she
would be considered the most beautiful among the three, she was also the most
cunning and deceptive. Until now Jarius rarely confides in her, not knowing her
true intentions. Kanra was his controversial wife. For the first time in
Aeden’s history, the king took a wife that was not of any noble families, but
it was not surprising knowing Jarius’ roots. Kanra became his anchor to reality
and her charitable heart far outweighed her lack of education. Kanra was his childhood friend. His sister
from the street stables and they grew up together. Kanra was a waitress at the
shack of a restaurant in which he worked as a hay boy, and the lessons they
learnt from there thought them how much they needed each other.
As they approached the banquet hall, Jarius could hear the
sounds of his starving family – particularly the cries of Fosten, his youngest
son and third child from Senphin.
“You’re late,” mentioned Fizgard, Aeshen’s second son six
years in age, as Jarius and Kanra entered the room, “Shara was going to swallow her tongue soon.”
“Fizgard, know your place!” warned Aeshen, “He may be your
father, but he too is the king and they both deserve your respect.”
“Yes, Mother.” Gloom took over Fizgard’s face as he sat back
upon his seat.
Jarius chuckled at the cacophony in the throne room and
proceeded to his seat. When Jarius became king, he insisted that the banguet
tables be circular to show equality, but after much debate with the royal hall planners, everyone agreed to
an oval table. Jarius passed by Fizgard and patted him on the head before
reaching his seat.
“Forgive my tardiness,” He said, “I was resting and I forgot
about the time.”
As is the tradition of Aeden, the whole table went silent as Jarius pronounced thanks and blessings, "For the meal before us and the meals to come, for the life in us and the strength we have. May we give as we've been given, and may we be ever thankful."
The family responded in unison, "To be ever thankful."
With that, the food on the table
was uncovered and the meat was brought out to be served. When he first became
king, Jarius refused to eat glamorous food when his nation was going through a
rough time and he supplied the palace excess to feed the people. It was only
when he brought Aeden back to prosperity that he actually began eating meals
fit for a king. That was the type of king Jarius was. Because of his
sacrifices, he earned the trust of his people.
He was the people’s pleaser and often went to great lengths to help those
that needed help often to the disagreement of Aeshen and especially
Senphin.
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Starring out into the fortress of Aeden from his succor in
the mountains, Verender puts his fire out as he readies to rest. He sees the lights
in the secret resting room of the king dim and he is reminded of the past. Though an outcast of Aeden due to his weakness
in the Calaphan revolt, Verender is still highly loyal to the Aeden throne.
Because of his shame, he fled into the mountain that stood behind the castle
and has imposed an exile on himself. Verender was Jarius’ Captain of the
Archers and he felt responsible when one of his men opened fire into an
innocent Calaphanene boy. It was under his watch that the Calaphan feud became
the Calaphan revolt and he retired from his position when the issue was resolved - after Senphin was taken as Jarius’ bride.
As he lay there in his self-imposed exile, he could not help
but think of the many things he could have done to prevent that young boy from
dying. After the whole incident, Verender visited Calaphan to seek the boy’s
family for forgiveness. He learnt that the boy was the first and only son of
elderly farmers. After the boy’s birth, there were some complications and the
woman could not conceive again. The boy’s name was Hienavon which meant god-sent.
When he met Hienavon’s parents and told them of his
involvement in their son’s
death, they simply gave him a slight smile and said that as Hienavon was
god-sent, he could also be taken away. They thanked him for his honor and
bravery which did not make Verender feel any better. He was hoping to have the town
turn against him as vengeance for Hienavon, but living with the guilt was a far
heavier punishment.
After six years in the wilderness, many think Verender dead.
He left without a word and has yet to utter one for close to four years. At
first he talked to himself to drive insanity away, but soon he embraced it. As
his head lay on his makeshift pillow of deer skin, he hears the rumblings from
beneath the earth and his eyes widen. With that he speaks the first words that
he has muttered in years:
“One by one, they
came to seek
For the ancient words
they want to speak
But the words were
lost as was the art
No man left around
could the words impart
But in the ground
beneath the Steep
Lies an ancient power
deep asleep
And as he awakes from
his eternal rest
The ancient words
will rise to test
Every man left will
have to stand
The Aeden throne for
every man.”
As he mutters the last line of this old-forgotten folksong,
he rises from his mid-slumber and runs without rest to the gates of Aeden.
