Elijah - 5. Chapter 5: The Seat of Elijah

Days had gone by. Most of my time had been spent shadowing Braden. We never spoke of the night at the Faire. The day after was still a daze. Braden and Caleb spoke as if nothing at all had happened, but when Caleb looked at me, he knew. I could see it in his eyes.

 

Today was my last day in Damascus; I had been invited by Braden to attend the Peace Conference in Cathedral. I had called my mother to tell her about everything…but I received no answer. It was unlike my mother not to answer, or, if not she, then my brother. I became concerned, but every time I thought of it, Braden would remind me of the company I was with and I would forget my family completely.

 

Upon the King’s announcement of peace with Venz, the country was in high spirits. The week had been declared a national holiday; the Academy holiday period was extended further. I was excited. History was about to be made and I was in the dead center!

 

Braden and I stood on the parapets that surrounded The Garden. The Great Oak loomed before us; sunlight glittered through its vast branches. The small walkways surrounding the oak were littered with leaves; various rose gardens and lush plant life grew about it. Fountains bubbled, and a stream coursed constantly throughout The Garden glowed in the coastal sun. Lord Riven leaned over the railing, gazing down into the Garden. I looked up at the tree then turned to face the ocean on the opposite side.

 

“We will be taking the metro to Cathedral.” Braden broke the silence.

 

“All right.” I had never ridden the train system that connected the major cities of Elijah.

 

“They think Venz will be using this lull in national thought to attack us.”

 

“Why? We are making peace with them, aren’t we?” I returned to Braden’s side, gazing up at the tree once more.

 

“The Ministers enjoy instilling thoughts of paranoia into our King…as does David.” Braden sighed, as if something were not going the way he wanted. “The King might call off the conference. We don’t need another war. Why am I telling this to you? You wouldn’t understand.”

 

“Of course I do.” I felt mildly insulted. “I do not want war; my father is in the military you know.”

 

“I know.”

 

“You do?”

 

Braden did not say anything more; the only sound was the distant ocean. I watched the two armed guards march back and forth along the gate of The Garden. The Guardians they were called. Chosen by the king himself to a life of constant vigil over The Garden. Day and night, they marched four hundred and ninety five steps from one end of the gate to the other. The only way the gate could be opened was from the inside, and only if the Horn were sounded. It was fashioned from horn of the liger, the beasts that roam the plains of Venz.

 

I looked more closely at the Oak, and noticed that the trunk was beginning to fade from its normal, vibrant, earthen tone; the leaves looked crisp rather than full of life. The tree was dying. “It’s dying.”

 

“They say that when the tree dies, so dies Elijah,” Braden whispered.

 

“Those are only legends, camp fire stuff.” I looked at him, searching. He was troubled but I was afraid to ask why.

 

“I suppose so. I will see you tonight at the ball.” He left. Tonight the king was holding a gala event to inaugurate the Peace Conference. I took a car back to the royal penthouses and kept myself busy reading various books in the duke’s library. I called my home again; still no answer.

 

I was sitting at a table, engrossed in some text, when Caleb entered, half naked. A towel draped around his neck; sweat glistened on his toned body. He set a long sheath on the table and leaned luxuriously over one of the chairs.

 

“Afternoon.” He was short of breath.

 

“Hi.” I set the book down. “What were you doing?”

 

“Practicing, just for fun.” I glanced at the scabbard then back to him; and then I reached for the scabbard. Before my hand could complete its movement, the sharp tip of the blade was at my chin. My eyes followed the glistening steel curving upward to Caleb’s hand, and above it, his glittering eyes. A smile was on his face.

 

“Come to the ball with me tonight.” He whispered. I felt the blade tip trace up my chin, and then trail slowly down my jaw line. I gulped.

 

“But…”

 

“But your head being chopped off, Jeremy; will you go?” I was terrified.

 

“Yes.”

 

“Good.” In a fluid movement, the blade was back in the sheath. Caleb wandered away, stripping off his pants before leaving the room. “I am going for a shower. Cheerio.”

 

Night slowly came as I prepared myself for the ball. I joined Braden and Caleb in the foyer; we were all dressed in suits. The journey to the ballroom was made in silence. Lidia soon joined us at some intersection. The ball itself had already begun. Various nobles, ministers, and subjects of Elijah were present. The king and queen sat in high backed chairs overlooking the ballroom and the dance floor. The music was ancient; the people on the floor all danced in unison; it seemed as if all the royals knew a thing or two about dancing. The men were in dapper suits; and the women, in flowing ball gowns. Lidia joined us, pulling Braden away.

 

Braden and Lidia left Caleb and me alone; they seemed deep in conversation and soon were joined by a taller man in a uniform. I couldn’t quite discern what uniform he wore, since Caleb tugged me away. Finding one of the bars, we drank and drank.

 

“Is this all you do?” I swayed.

 

“What? Drink?”

 

“Yeah.” I realized I should have asked myself that question; I was becoming quite the fan of alcohol.

 

“ ’Tis the life of the rich and famous…drown your sorrows!” Caleb downed the rest of whatever he was having. Lidia glided from the crowd and came to me directly.

 

“Let us dance, commoner!” She grabbed my hands and I found myself on the dance floor, standing like an idiot. I watched the others; I saw Braden with a brunette, and Caleb idly watching, leaning against a column talking to a young man.

 

“What do I do?”

 

“Did you never attend a cotillion? My, the youth of this country.” She grabbed my hands and led me in a whirly, fluid dance that made me look like a natural. The music was catchy—if you listened long enough.

 

“What do you think of all this?”

 

“It’s new.”

 

“Not many get to see it; I dislike that,” she said. I was leading now, or she had transferred leadership to me. I got the hang of the dancing.

 

“Why?”

 

“We are all equal under the flag, don’t you think? It only makes sense.”

 

“I guess.”

 

“What do you think of Braden?”

 

“I like him. I was supposed to tutor him, but that hasn’t happened quite yet.” She laughed at this.

 

“Ah, well, I think the feelings are mutual.” I glanced at her for a moment, her large eyes smiled and looked away. I flushed a deep crimson. What caused that?

 

After we finished dancing, I spoke more with Lidia, and learned about her efforts to support the poverty-stricken people of the Nordith Republics to the east. The Nordith were nomads who had only recently given up their nomadic ways, built their own cities, and been annexed peacefully into Elijah. However, they are quite poor, and receive little from the state. I understood that she was for her father’s people, one hundred percent.

 

At that point, I noticed David and the raven-nosed CEO of Jericho speaking in a corner. I watched for a few moments, until a figure interrupted my vision.

 

“Jeremy!” It was Sydney, my roommate. I greeted him, and he immediately began to ramble on about how he was so excited to be in Damascus. “I totally didn’t know you were here; who do you know? Is it your father?” David had vanished; I focused back on Sydney.

 

“Hey Sydney, how are you?” I was slightly drunk, since drinking was really all I had done since I had arrived, so I struggled to keep my eyes focused on the little blonde’s furious hand movements.

 

“Good, are you going to Cathedral? I am! Dad got me a spot in the royal box you know since he is…”

 

“Yeah, Sydney I know…” I pushed past him, snagging a dirty look. I simply dismissed Sydney. On some impulse, I stopped and glanced back as if to offer an apology but my roommate had already moved on. I stared at the floor for a moment; I had…I would never have done something so callous in the past. Before I could seize this thought, it was blown away by Braden’s voice.

 

“Jeremy!”

 

“What!” I yelled it. I was furious with myself. I needed to find Sydney. Braden stood behind me, slender eyebrow raised.

 

“Right, you should head to bed. We have an early morning. The metro leaves early you know.” He gave me a condescending look that angered me even more. I looked him over, sized him up.

 

“Are you my mother now? I’m capable of fending for myself, thank you.”

 

“What?”

 

“You heard me,” I spat. I was tired of this, this effect. I was becoming one of them, although I had no noble blood in my body. Braden rushed forward, gripped my collar and pulled me close, and then turned me around to face the crowd. An icy tone penetrated my mind.

 

“You are not even close to being capable, Jeremy. Fend for yourself in this iron jungle? You would die if it weren’t for me.” He pushed me away and left. I stood smoldering, hating myself…no, hating everyone. Why had Braden Extollere chosen me? Just because I was going to tutor him because he couldn’t properly use conjunctions or contractions properly?

 

Come morning, I decided, I was leaving, for good.

 

I went to bed in a drunken stupor. I tossed and turned, sweating, moaning and hating my dreams. One in particular stood out, terrifying me. It was so vivid.

 

I stand before two large doors; the light around me is vibrant yet blurred. The doors open to reveal a gigantic throne room, framed by columns of gold and of marble. The background is a stark white; the throne is occupied not by one person, but by many figures. Shadows move quickly around me, wispy smoke that passed around me like cold wind. I never can see their faces. I do not walk, but glide forward. As I do, a sense of foreboding creeps over me. I want to run but I can not. I want to hide, but there is no place safe enough.

 

Now, the throne is occupied by the king. Each time I approach, he stands, hand outstretched. Screams, and a shadowy figure moves past me. The king’s crown of oak leaves topples down the blood-stained marble stairs and lands at my feet. I pick it up and spin it slowly in my hands. I can feel the metal; I can feel the Benediction over this ancient object of Elijah, given by the High Reverend. I lift it over my head, but before it touches my hair, I wake up in a surge of sighs.

 

I sat on my bed, sweating, troubled, staring out the window onto the Damascus skyline, wondering. I packed my things quickly, not bothering to shower or look presentable. I needed water, food. I sneaked from the penthouse down to the kitchen. I lit a candle and sat in the vast kitchen, hunched over a loaf of bread and a goblet of water. The candlelight flickered across the tabletop, and tossed shadows in every direction. The flickering light seemed to tell me that my attempted exodus would fail, and that I was meant to stay. “Chance does not exist in Elijah,” Caleb had told me. Fate had brought me here, and fate would force me to remain.

 

Footsteps alerted me of another; I stumbled from the stool and tried to collect my duffle bag, but a voice stopped me.

 

“Who is there?”

 

I could see candlelight moving along the hallway toward the kitchen; the shadow that carried it was nothing imposing. It was not a guard or serviceman. The king emerged from the shadows; candlelight flickered against his aged features.

 

“Hello?”

 

I was unsure what to say, I gulped and stood. “It is I,” I said.

 

“Who?” He held the candle high, to bathe the kitchen in light. “Where is that bloody switch… ah…” A click and the kitchen was illuminated in modern light. “Oh hello!” The king blew the candle out and moved over to the large refrigerator. I realized that he was in stripped blue pajamas.

 

I did the only thing I knew to do with a king. I bowed and remained in that position. I stood there, staring at my dress shoes, until he noticed me.

 

“Oh, please, rise. We are all of a different breed at night…what was your name again?” He was rummaging through the upper cupboards, making a ruckus.

 

“Jeremy, my king, an…” The word tasted metallic in my mouth. “…acquaintance of Lord Riven.” That sounded formal enough for me.

 

“Ah, right, young Braden…tea Jeremy?” I saw he had found a pot and was lighting the large stove. “Now where are those…lemon cakes…” He bent down and began to sift through the cupboards below.

 

“Uh.. er… yes please…” I sat back in the chair and pushed aside my load of bread and goblet of water.

 

The king began to brew the tea and found some sort of cake, cutting it slowly. Actually, he began to eat it as he cut, savoring each bite and licking his fingers.

 

“Do you enjoy Damascus, Jeremy? You hail from Portalis, correct?”

 

“Yes how did you…” He let out a torrent of jovial laughter; I could see the laugh lines about his eyes.

 

“A king does not need to acknowledge to hear his people.” He slid a plate of cake towards me across the kitchen island. “Cake?”

 

“Yes, please.” I attacked the cake, destroying it. I was famished. “I think Damascus is an impressive city, Your Majesty.”

 

“Indeed, young Jeremy, it…’tis…oh hot hot…” He was toying with the pot on the stove. “I remember when my father first showed me this city; it was an ancient ruin. How we have progressed from what we once were.” I nodded, unsure, really, what to say. “I take you are coming to Cathedral on the morrow?”

 

I gulped, speechless for a moment. “Oh, well, I was thinking of returning home; I have not heard from my parents in some time, and Braden and I…”

 

“Nonsense, you must come. If you are ever to see a city, Cathedral should be it. Your parents are fine; I am sure of it.” He poured me a cup of tea; it was perfectly warm. I believed him, what he said about my parents. “And do not mind Braden, my most stubborn nephew, only nephew I might add…” The king sipped at his tea, sitting on a stool across from me.

 

“Can I ask you something?” I interrupted a few minutes of silence.

 

“Yes, speak freely.” He gestured at me with his fork before it dived back into another slice of the lemon cake.

 

“Are you going to call off the peace…thing with Venz?” I had no idea what to call it. He paused in his eating, set down his fork, and gazed at me with an empire in his eyes.

 

“What do you think I should do?”

 

I breathed deeply; to buy time I took a sip of the tea. “I… uh… don’t you have advisors to ask this sort of thing?”

 

“Yes, myriad of them. They all dress in tight suits, suits so tight it cuts off the blood to their brains…”

 

“I think you should go ahead with the peace thing.” I nodded confidently.

 

“Good, then I will. Perhaps one day you will sit alongside me in Court.” There was a twinkle in those eyes; one winked at me.

 

“You made your decision on what I said?”

 

“Yes, of course.” He let out a loud burp.

 

“Why?”

 

“Because you see the things I don’t always see; it makes good sense I think.” I did not argue. I glanced at my bag then back to the king. I almost told him of my dream, but refrained.

 

“I want to ask you one more thing.”

 

“Speak.”

 

“Do you like being king?”

 

He let out another frothing laugh. “Heavens no; it is quite stressful. However, it is my duty and my duty is to the people…to you. If you ever have the choice between being a king and being a farmer, be the farmer. I do enjoy gardening…” He trailed off in thought. “Well, I must be going; I am sure half the royal guard have figured out the pillows in my bed are not me… see you in Cathedral.” He departed the kitchen with a nod, leaving me with my thoughts.

 

I sat thinking and finally, reluctantly, trudged back up to the penthouse and collapsed on my bed. Chance had not put me here, nor had chance arranged the meeting with the king. If I were older, if I had a better understanding, I might be able to put my finger on what had; however, I couldn’t.

 

I slept soundly, free of nightmares and night sweats. The dawn came, bathing the city in the light of change. I woke, showered, gathered my things and dragged my bag into the living room. Braden was lounging in a chair, a newspaper limp in his hands.

 

“Venz just took their ships off the Gelmorath bridge.” He flicked the paper down, glancing at me. “It seems the king is continuing his move for peace, awesome huh?” He smiled at me. I echoed the smile. The Venz were an ancient race; some claim that we are Venz who broke away in an attempt to find something new, different. The country knew thatif war were to be had, they would loseeverything. They were superior in combat, their weaponry…you could never see until it was too late, they sank into shadows, and one of their warriors could slay ten of ours.

 

It bothered me too, that Venz was shrouded in rumor and mystery. We were only permitted to learn its history up to the Kelvachian War, which was four years ago. Knowledge about our neighbor after that time was suppressed by the Ministry. I was unsure if the king had any say in this, despite his crown. Rumors said that Venz was something demonic, from an unearthly realm that practiced unnatural powers.

 

“When do we leave?” I took a chair across from Braden.

 

“Soon, waiting on Caleb. Lidia is already en route.”

 

“Why didn’t she come with us?” Braden flicked the paper down again, suddenly annoyed.

 

“She went with her father and mother. Caleb decided to stay with us.” He returned to his reading; I shrugged. Braden seemed tense. Was he expecting something I was not? It bothered me, and I dwelt on it for the next few minutes, until Caleb entered.

 

“Let’s go. The metro is here.” An attendant appeared behind Caleb and gathered our bags and vanished with them. I followed Caleb toward the elevator; Braden folded the newspaper and joined us.

 

We stood in the elevator as it dropped far below the level of ground.

 

“I thought the metro only ran above ground,” I thought aloud.

 

“We have our own,” Braden replied. The elevator slowed and the doors opened. Two sets of royal guard saluted as we walked past; I knew they saluted Braden and Caleb. I wanted them to salute me, at some point.

 

We followed a stone corridor into a larger room that was the station. The metro hissed and steamed along the rails a few paces ahead of us. Attendants buzzed around; the royal guard had shed their tradition golden spears and replaced them with rifles with wicked blades at the end. It was menacing.

 

“Ah, Lord Riven… my prince!” That Veslyn woman slithered out from behind a pillar. Braden stopped me, resting a hand on my forearm; I shivered at the touch. It felt as if he had pushed me behind himself.

 

“Ah, Ms. Veslyn. To what do I owe the pleasure of… your being here?” Braden inquired. Caleb strode past her and then glanced back. He motioned to a guard and began to speak softly, nodding at the media woman as he did so.

 

“I wanted to catch a lift to Cathedral actually. You don’t mind, do you?” She gave Braden a look that signaled even to me that Braden really had no choice. He hesitated—a long pause.

 

“Yes, I mind. As this is reserved for family.”

 

“W…what?” She seemed astonished. “Lord Riven, you know I can…” He held up a hand. I was unaware until then that I was gripping his other arm, squeezing it. My adrenaline rushed. Caleb glanced over and nodded to the guard.

 

“Escort Ms. Veslyn from the station.” Caleb intoned. She whirled around pointing her finger at the prince.

 

“You … you little freak. I am a Minister of the Court; your father appointed me.”

 

“Actually, your large sums appointed you, as did your loud mouth. Please, gently gentlemen.” Two guards loomed over the woman, nudging her toward the door.

 

“That was Victor…it was Victor you little oversexed scum.” The station seemed to fall silent, I felt Braden tense. My breathing slowed. Everyone looked to Caleb. He smiled, and turned to a nearby guard.

 

“Your sidearm, please.” A pistol was handed to the prince and in fluid movements he approached Veslyn. The pistol now rested on her temple. Caleb leaned close.

 

“Sorry. Repeat that?”

 

“You wouldn’t.” She hissed.

 

“I would, bitch. Do you understand how much strife you have caused this family? First you write the story that my father,” his voice rose, almost to a shout, “that my father, the King of Elijah is having an affair! We let that slide, because you’re a minion of the pitiful media that infests this country… Then, we catch you and Victor Jericho extracting money from the Treasury without Court consent. This is wiped from your slate only after you write a check to my mother for one of her foundations.” The woman began to squirm, sweat beading from her now ugly face, once pretty. The mask had been taken off.

 

“It is all for a good cause, my prince, please…” The pistol pressed harder, and a red flush cascaded across her face. She was terrified.

 

“Yes, beg, as do the weak, everywhere. After all this, you have the arrogance to speak down to me? A prince of Elijah!” Caleb cocked the pistol.

 

“You will never be what your brother will become, ever. Kill me; do it. It will not stop anything, I promise.” In a fluid motion, Caleb’s hand raised, and the pistol smashed down upon Ms. Veslyn’s face. Blood spattered from her nostrils as she sank to the ground.

 

“Arrest her. Remove her from my sight.” He threw the pistol at the metro, where it bounced off the metal, and then stormed past Braden and me. Braden turned and glanced at me; he seemed unsure what to say. I could see doubt in his blue eyes.

 

“That was unexpected; I’m sorry Jeremy.” I let go of his arm and nodded.

 

“I… she is vile.” I laughed, attempting to lighten the mood, Braden smiled, albeit a forced smile.

 

“The drama goes quite far back.” He turned to a nearby guard. “Who gave her permission to be down here?”

 

“She is a Minister, my lord; I could not say otherwise.” Braden merely nodded and boarded the metro. I followed. The interior was lavish, but nothing I did not expect. Large leather chairs, mounted flat screen monitors. Picture windows, wider than my bed at home. The train hissed and steamed, I felt it begin to vibrate. I heard shouting outside where the Veslyn woman was struggling with the guards.

 

“Long live the...” Her shout was cut off as the doors slid closed. The whole trip I wondered what she said; it was bothersome. Caleb remained quiet, staring out the window. Braden sat near him, whispering to him, before coming over to me to make small talk. For the majority of the journey, we were underground, moving at speeds I could not calculate.

 

We emerged from the underground, and soared upward into a field of grain that spread for miles. I watched the grain slide by. The wind pushed it this way and that, a sea of golden lace. Caleb left the compartment; as he moved to the next I caught a glimpse of David and Victor Jericho. Caleb shut the door behind him and vanished. Braden stood at the far window; I joined him.

 

“What is wrong?” I was unsure if this was the right thing to ask, but it came out.

 

“Just the right things, which is not good. Nothing I can’t fix. I apologize again; that woman is truly a nuisance. I will have her arrested when we arrive in Cathedral.” He did not bother to look at me.

 

“Not that, you, Caleb… it seems so tense after the Faire…” I wanted to ask, it had been on my mind forever so I did, and I took a leap.

 

“The Faire was fun; I enjoyed you a lot.” I did not catch exactly what he said until moments later; my heart skipped a beat.

 

“I met the king.”

 

“When?” Braden looked at me sharply.

 

“Last night. I wanted to leave; I wanted to escape. It had all become too much for a piece of scum from Portalis.” When I paused, Braden turned to me, and gripped my arms.

 

“You mustn’t leave, ever. I will take you home, I promise. But you’re here, right? Why not stay. You get to see history; kids would kill for that…right? Right?” It was quick, rushed. What was going on? “What did the king say?”

 

“Nothing, we just spoke. We had cake together.” I shrugged. It was the truth. He let go of me.

 

“The king is the best thing that has happened to this country in a long while. A long, long while.” I wanted to tell Braden about my dream, but I never found the courage.

 

“Yeah, I guess.”

 

“Don’t leave Jeremy. You can’t.” I looked at Braden. I couldn’t?

 

“What do you mean?” I felt his hand grab mine, squeezing it like I had grabbed his arms back in the station. It was the same feeling: surprise, confusion.

 

“Look, Cathedral.” I followed his sky blue eyes.

 

It rose into the sky, a glittering spire of metal and tradition. It basked in the sun, tall skyscrapers and the silver tower that was the Seat of Elijah. It was simply beautiful. Below it all, people went about their business, unaware how flawless their empire was. My hand still held Braden’s, softly, as the train sped through the fields.

 

My hand left Braden’s; he said nothing but returned to his seat. I stared out the window. The train arched along the tracks, providing a perfect view of Cathedral. It was the greatest metropolis, rivaling Damascus and the Old City to the far west.

 

“We will be arriving at the manor soon,” Braden said. “We won’t be able to see much of the city, since the Venz diplomats are already there. Half the city is blocked off for the peace thing.” I only heard what I wanted. I stared, mouth wide at the sheer awesomeness of the city.

 

“And I thought Constance was a large city.”

 

“Constance could fit in my bedroom.” I stifled a laugh. Cathedral did make Constance look like a village. The train began to slow, dipping below ground again, entering a tunnel filled with flickering lights that rushed past. The train slowed and we arrived at the station.

 

It mirrored the station in Damascus, stone columns, damp, torch-lit. However, men in gray uniforms stood in a column before the ramp leading down to the station. They held no firearms or spears, although small short swords were hidden in jeweled scabbards that hung at their waists. There were twelve; their faces, stoic, their hair cut the same way: short and easy.

 

“Paladins.”

 

“Yes, all twelve.”

 

“There are only twelve? I thought they numbered in the hundreds.”

 

“We only count the ones that mean something; these are the great grandsons of the paladins who helped my great uncles found this nation. They were present under the Tree when he was crowned…you know that stuff…” Braden rose and gestured for me to follow. The doors hissed opened; Victor Jericho exited before us, followed by David. The column of paladins turned and stepped into a salute as he passed. At the end of the column stood the queen. David ignored her and pushed past. Victor Jericho followed silently behind David.

 

The queen glided down the column of bodyguards and greeted Caleb, who had stepped out behind us.

 

“My son, welcome home. I take it that Ms. Veslyn was taken care of.” Caleb scowled and strode past.

 

“I want her dead.”

 

“Oh well… I will pass that along…” the queen said. Caleb was already far down the tunnel behind her. “…to your father. Braden, my favorite nephew!”

 

“Your only nephew, my queen.” She embraced him. I had never been this close to the queen before. Sheridan Extollere was truly beautiful. In her presence, you were forced to bow in respect. I did so as she glanced at me.

 

“This is Jeremy…” She held up a hand to cut Braden off.

 

“Yes, yes, I know. The king informed me. Welcome to my home. Whatever you wish will be yours, merely ask.”

 

“Thank you, my queen.”

 

“Don’t be silly, you are family now.” She tapped my shoulders and I shot up, on command. Picking up her skirts, she swirled past us. Braden and I followed, with the paladins close behind us.

 

“Now, boys, tonight you may do as you please in the city; however we do have company. The diplomats from Venz are here. I have not met them presently, and they are currently in the west wings of the manor. Do not go there. I don’t want two youths causing a war they cannot end.” She glanced back, winking. Lovely woman. “The king would have loved to greet you, however he is busy, as you know, running a country is indeed a twenty-four-hour job.”

 

We entered a large elevator, and left the company of the paladins. The elevator was made of glass. As we soared upward and out of the underground, traveling up the side of the Seat of Elijah, above the heavens, the view was fantastic. Cathedral was closer than ever, below us, bustling with life. The elevator finally stopped, the queen alerted us to turn and the doors opened into a vast, vaulted foyer of marble.

 

She brushed past us; attendants sprinted around holding large flower vases, adjusting pictures, sweeping the floors. The queen shouted orders and slid over to reprimand a servant for placing the flower decoration in the wrong location, “It must be perfect, we have guests!”

 

“Welcome to the manor,” Braden said. “If you want to look around you may. I am going to go freshen up. Let’s go out tonight.”

 

“Okay, with Caleb?” I said.

 

“No, just you and me.”

 

“I …ah oh…” By the time I formed that thought, Braden had disappeared. I frowned and glanced about. The attendants paid me no mind. I came to a sweeping staircase that split off in an easterly and westerly direction arching above me to lead to another floor. From the outside the Seat was a tall, skyscraping building; inside it seemed like a manor. Beautiful tapestries depicting battles of ancient times hung from the walls. A large portrait of the royal family hung at the landing. The king sat regally in a high backed chair. The queen was to his right, resting her hand upon his shoulder. Caleb stood to the queen’s rightand David was behind. It looked happy, complete. I wondered where my family was and made a mental note to call home again. I had assumed they had stolen off to some vacation spot because of the Peace Conference.

 

I wandered about; the guards paid me no mind. I walked red-carpeted corridors that occasionally turned into catwalks. I looked up, and saw more floors of the manor. I walked through the Court Hall, past the two great oak doors emblazoned with the Great Tree, sealed however, and guarded by a group of armed royal guards. I came to an empty hallway, vaulted, larger than the rest. I saw a set of stairs leading down somewhere, however another separate hallway led off and I wandered slowly toward it. It was barren, empty. Devoid of pictures or tapestries.

 

The hallway went off into some desolate part of the manor; doors lined the walls, obviously storage rooms of some sort. I gazed upward and took a few steps forward when I noticed them.

 

The threshold of the door was occupied, but only when I turned my head slightly could I see. The light caught something, flickering, shimmering like liquid. Was it an eyelash? I stepped back and turned again, seeing a glimmer of something shining in the dim afternoon light that cascaded through a circular window. I looked again, but could not see anything clearly; it was blurry.

 

“You there! You! Halt!” I whirled to look back the way I came; a guard was jogging towards me, rifle hitched under his armpit. I held my hands up. “Move away from there, please sir. Do it.” He moved near me, gesturing toward the wall, and I slid backwards, the gun was not pointed at me but towards the hallway I was staring at.

 

“There is something there!” I pointed, unsure if I should run away or not, “I think at least…”

 

“Yeah, kid, Venz, right there. You can’t see them?”

 

“No, but when I turn to the side like this…” I did it and I saw two shadowy blurs in the hallway.

 

“Yeah, come on… behind me please.”

 

“Stop pointing your gun at them…peace…hello?”

 

“We have no idea what they will do. They do this shit.” He pointed the gun in the direction of whatever occupied that space.

 

“What is it?” I asked. “Why can’t we see them?”

 

“Magic or something. I have no idea how many are around us. We should leave. I can get court-martialed for being down here.”

 

“Why? They mean no harm. Put your gun down. I think if they figured you to be a threat, you would be dead by now. You can’t see them anyway; how can you shoot?” The guard looked at me in an odd way, considered it, and lowered his weapon.

 

“Don’t go near that hallway, understand? I need to get back to my patrol.” He moved back down the hall. I was glad to be rid of him. Why would you raise a weapon to those with whom you were making peace? I was more concerned with what these things looked like. No photographic records existed of Venz or the people who lived there. There was occasionally, crappy, media converge from old battles. Usually the cameraman died or the feed was cut before you could see anything.

 

I wanted to see what my country was so frightened of.

 

“Hello!” I waved at the air. “I don’t have a gun.” I turned around, pulling out my pockets and turning around like a model, kind of. “Hello?” I made some weird gestures and flopped around, anything to get attention.

 

Nothing.

 

“I welcome…uh you…?” I bowed. That didn’t work. I was getting bored; if anything, I would see their diplomats at the Conference. As I turned to move away, the air shimmered. Liquid ripples, almost tangible, and then, before me, stood two towering…things.

 

They were tall; I could not even guess their height. I stumbled backwards; I glanced violently in both directions. Should I run? Their skin was not skin but black armor, linked and meshed perfectly. Their heads were hidden under helmets that resembled a long porcelain mask, the features plain and slate gray. Wicked spears were gripped in gauntleted hands. One moved toward me in a fluid motion; as it leaned down I could hear the armor move, shifting and creaking.

 

The helmet tilted slightly, the eyes glittered crimson and the voice that came forth grated at my ears, echoing down the hall. I could not understand it. It was another language. It was ancient and made my bones hurt. I scratched at my arms and stepped back farther.

 

“I don’t know…what you’re saying…” I could not look at that mask-like face. It was scary. The voice stopped, as if to process what I had said, and replied with another drawling, swirling reply of words I could almost taste and touch. “I don’t know what you are saying!” I growled. I wanted to leave but I could not. Those eyes, they made me stay. Those rippling red eyes.

 

“Don’t look at the eyes boy.” I felt a firm grip tug me away. I slammed my eyes shut. I heard a sword leave a sheath. I was moving away, I felt my rescuer pulling me. I dared a peek; the tall masked things were gone. I turned toward my rescuer; a paladin shoved me against the wall. He held the tip of a short sword near my groin. I gulped. “You got balls kid,” he said.

 

“Sorry.”

 

“Having balls is good.” He had a firm face and short blond hair. “I know you, you’re Sydney’s roommate. He pointed you out to me at the ball the other night.” He sheathed the sword. “High Captain Nicholas of His Majesty’s Paladins, at your service…” He paused, glancing down the hall. “You shouldn’t be here; they don’t like that sort of thing.” This was Sydney’s father, I deduced. I relaxed a little.

 

“Sorry, Braden told me to explore, so I did.”

 

“You listen to everything that kid says?” I frowned and thought, yeah, I did.

 

“Were those things Venz?”

 

“Damn right they were Venz, crazy things. Come on, can’t be up here. Even I would get a spanking.” He gestured for me to follow.

 

“Why not? They are our friends now, I’d imagine.”

 

“Not until that treaty is signed. Currently, they are enemies within our walls; coms are going crazy. Everything is a death threat, royal guards have been tripled, and we are actually on watch. I have six of my men watching the elevators to the royal chambers. That Venz lot is causing a lot more harm than good in my mind, you know?”

 

“Is Sydney here?”

 

“Yeah, somewhere. I’ll let him know you were lookin’ eh?” I nodded.

 

“Is that what Venz look like? Those things? You’ve seen them. Sydney told me stories.” The High Captain flushed, scratching the back of his head.

 

“Oh, what did he say now? Well, yeah, under all that armor there are Venz. We call them Rifters, our code name for those types.” He nodded.

 

“They have types?”

 

“Their weaponry and such does, easier than saying ‘that guy’ or something over coms, easier on the battlefield, that sort of thing.” My attention was far to focused on Sydney’s father to note we were walking slowly down a flight of marble stairs.

 

“I could not see them.”

 

“Yeah, we have yet to figure that out. I would suspect we could use that same technology, if you can call it that, but the Ministry forbids it and that sort of thing.”

 

“Why hasn’t the king willed it?”

 

“Peace is far better than war, kid, far better. We can spend our funds elsewhere.” I was unsure if I was supposed to agree aloud or not.

 

“You can’t see those Rifter things. Only if you catch the light a certain way. They can move without you knowing and they have some sort of stasis field that will freeze ya up. I remember fighting those at the Gurukesh front over by Kelmath. Those things could take out a battalion, one of them. Amazing. Then there are Dark Ladies, Archons, huge floating ships they have, Deep Walkers, and all sorts of crap they throw at you. I’m surprised we lasted long enough at Gurukesh. Actually, I’m surprised the country held together…” He trailed off, “I’m sure you already learned about that in history class or something…”

 

“Actually no.” He didn’t seem to respond to this, “They speak another language?”

 

“Yeah, an ancient tongue. Apparently ancestral stuff, it sounds weird. Ministry thinks it is some demonic tongue, magic and such. Anyways, off you go…off you go…” He shoved me towards the hubbub of the manor and departed.

 

I made my way back to the large foyer before the elevators. Standing at the base of the stairs, I watched servants and attendants run every which way. It was chaotic. I thrived; the adrenaline was still pumping after seeing those creatures in the upper halls. Braden had asked me to go out with him tonight. I had forgotten.

 

What?

 

What was the dress code? Did I have any nice clothes? I whirled around, glanced around. Where was my room? I found the nearest guard.

 

“Where are the royal chambers?” He pointed to a set of elevators on the far side flanked by more armed men. I went there, entered and clicked the only button available. I soared upward even farther, the sun glinted across the glass as I moved. It became warmer.

 

I arrived, finally. The elevator opened into another wide, vaulted room. Marble steps lead to two large wooden doors. What stood in the way were six gray clad paladins. They turned as the elevator chimed, I made for the door and they parted. Did they find me harmless? Why did they not stop me? Was I that… innocent looking? Pushing on the doors, I stumbled into another room.

 

A long hall, leading off higher, swirling staircases and distant footsteps echoing.

 

“Can I help you?” A slender woman with dark skin stood before me, hands clasped.

 

“Where is Caleb, or Braden… or Lidia?” I was in some need of someone I knew. I was far more a foreigner than a guest in the fine halls of the Seat.

 

“I believe the princess is currently indisposed, his highness is in the gymnasium. Lord Riven is nowhere to be found. May I take your coat?”

 

“Uh…sure.” I slid it off, no wonder it was so hot. The woman took it from me, gracefully folding it over her arm.

 

“Please, make yourself at home, Master Jeremy. Your room is up the stairwell yonder, two flights and to the left. I am Avihs; I am at your service.” She inclined her head slightly. I awkwardly returned her nod. She moved away, vanishing as quickly as she came.

 

The sounds of clashing metal echoed down the hall in waves. I went toward it. I reached the gymnasium, a large room set with mats and various mirrors and obstacles. Suits of armor and various weapon hung from the walls. Caleb stood near a dummy, sweat pooling about his chest matting down the light shirt he wore. He held a sword in his hand. Occasionally he would twist and turn, striking at the dummy violently. There was an ounce of grace in it, however. At some point he stopped. Chest heaving, he turned to me. I had been watching for some time.

 

“I prefer a blade to a firearm.” He tossed the weapon to a mat and picked up a towel, patting his soaking face.

 

“You can’t stop bullets with a sword.”

 

“Sure I can.” He grinned.

 

“Are you still angry over that woman at the station?” It was a sudden question, but from the moment I saw him, I had thought only of that.

 

“No.” Caleb walked past me, draping the towel over his shoulders. “It was about time she was silenced. She had walked such a thin line. I had her killed today.”

 

“The king approved of that this quickly? I thought it took years for a sentence of death.” I at least knew that much.

 

“I did not need my father’s assistance in the matter. I am a capable prince, full of capable deeds.” Silver flashed through the air and a dagger blade was at my neck. Caleb loomed over me. He smiled, breathing lightly over my face, and then spun the finely crafted dagger so that the hilt faced me. “Take this. It will come in handy at some point.” I took it slowly, reluctantly. I gazed at it for a moment, gently settling it in my pocket as if it was a precious thing. Caleb turned and wandered off; I did not bother to follow.

 

I did follow the directions Avihs had given me, and found my room. It was a gigantic room, with a fireplace and vaulted ceiling of marble and glass. A huge bed on which my bag lay. Assortments of scotch and other liquors lined up on fine glass trays. Clothes laid out. I got rid of my shoes and put my clothes in the large walk-in closet, shoving them in a corner. I put the dagger on the nightstand nearest me. Lying on the bed, I drifted into slumber.

 

I stand before the large doors of the throne room. They open slowly; within is a grand event. Nobles of the land, ministers, officials stroll about chatting, but I cannot hear anything they say. Just my breathing. Everything is gray and slate, the colors don’t match and my vision is blurry around the edges.

 

Braden emerges from the crowd and comes to me, he leans down and whispers something in my ear but I cannot hear it. I ask him what he says but he just smiles and then I scream. But I cannot hear even my own scream. My breathing, steady heartbeats, racing, faster and faster. The gray is tainted; I can taste it. A pebble is tossed into this vision causing ripples, people shout and point. A dark figure moves gracefully through the crowd but I can never see the face.

 

I see Caleb draw a weapon and point, shouting. Braden stumbles through the crowd, I sprint after him, dodging screaming women and confused Ministers. I trip, grabbing for Braden. He turns and holds out his arm but I am too far away. Then nothing.

 

I am standing at the top of a tower. I can see everything; Cathedral burns in the distance; large objects blot out the sun while sending their own beams of light in every direction. Caleb stands to my left, leaning over the side to gaze at the destruction. Braden is to my right; the crown in his hand drips blood. I feel sadness for a moment. Then nothing.

 

I walk into the great throne room to see the throne empty. I move toward it, slowly; pressure forces me down and I crawl to it, crawling up the steps, the crown sits glittering in the seat. Its leaves burst from it, and then are blown away with the wind.

 

It is raining and thunder claps, Caleb fights a robed figure, swords flash and when they connect the lightning crashes and ignites my bones. Braden crawls up beside me, bleeding, a pistol in his hands. He yells something I cannot hear; I want to run but I cannot. I see paladins running up the muddy hill, dark figures dart into the air sending a flurry of flame and light at them. They shout, holding up weapons that flicker in the dim gray dawn. The ground cracks, the magic trembles within the earth. The sun begs us to let it rise but it is dark, a darker dawn. A Black Dawn.

 

The final leaves of life drift from the Great Tree.

 

I see my father; he is in a dark place.

 

I am sitting on the throne. The crown is upon my head. I am the king.

 

I am the King of Elijah.

 

I woke, heaving, sweating. I was unsure where I was.

 

“Sir?” I cannot locate the voice, my vision is blurry and I moan, crashing backwards into the pillow.

 

“W-what?” I sit up; Avihs is standing beside the bed holding a towel.

 

“Pardon me sir, but your appointment with Lord Riven is upon you. You must get ready.” She offered the towel. I slid from the bed and took it from her, thanking her. She bowed and exited.

 

I found the shower, and stood in the soothing heat. “Just a dream,” I said to myself. “Just a dream.” I pushed it far back. I found clothing to wear, a suit. I did not care for the occasion, my head swam, and putting on my tie was difficult. I felt zombie-like. I downed several glasses of water, attempting to level myself, breathed deeply. I felt all right.

 

I made my way down the stairs to the entry hall. Braden stood at the bottom of the stairs dressed in perfection. He smiled as I descended the steps.

 

“Are you all right?” The smile vanished, replaced with a look of concern.

 

“Yeah, just tired.”

 

“Ah, well, let us dine then?” We left the manor and traveled through the city streets in an unmarked car. Braden did not speak; he merely stared out the window. Rain seemed to threaten the sky. We arrived at a restaurant, it was empty except for us.

 

“Why is it empty? Where are all the people.”

 

“I enjoy dining in peace.” Braden held the door for me; I entered. It was nice. A hostesses led us to a fine table. We sat. It was rather surreal; I was still dazed from the dream. I needed a drink.

 

“I need a drink.” My mind forced it out.

 

“Oh… well…of course then, yes.” Braden balanced his menu for a moment, glancing at it. Hailing the waiter, Braden asked for wine. I annihilated my glass and got more. “Thirsty?” Braden inquired.

 

“Yes, I didn’t sleep well the other night.”

 

“Ah, I suppose travel can do that to you.” After some time, we ordered food. Or, Braden ordered for me. I felt better: they were gone, my troubled thoughts, and I was glad. I was able to see again, to see Braden sitting before me smiling and talking. He told me of his summer homes and what he would do when he became Duke. He told me I could go to the summer homes if I wanted.

 

“When am I going to tutor you?”

 

“Later. School is the least of our worries.” He sipped his wine.

 

“Is it?”

 

“Sorry?” Braden set his glass down.

 

“Is it the least of our worries? Education is education you know.” I poked at my plate with a fork, hearing the fine porcelain clink.

 

“I guess you’re right.” The look he gave me was odd; he wanted to ask more but I was unsure what more he wished to know. “Do you miss home?”

 

“I guess.”

 

“You guess?” he asked. I glanced up, and shrugged.

 

“I have called but they don’t answer; I have no idea why.”

 

“Perhaps they are away,” Braden offered.

 

“They would have told me; they know I am touring the cities, at least that is what I told my mom when I left a message.”

 

“I can send somebody to check up on them if you’d like?”

 

“Really?” I was hopeful. Maybe I could hear from my parents sooner than I thought.

 

“Yes, with your permission of course.” Blue eyes looked at me, gazed at me. I paused for a moment.

 

“Why would you need my permission?”

 

“Just a matter of courtesy, I suppose.” He shrugged.

 

“Yes, please send someone. I want to know how they are. Can they come here?”

 

“Why would they want to do that?” Braden asked.

 

“To see the Conference of course. It is history; you even said so yourself.” I tossed back another glass of wine. The food was brought. Some sort of fish. I picked at it, and ate some of it only out of politeness.

 

“I doubt we could have them arrive in Cathedral before the Conference begins tomorrow morning. The possibility is just not there. I would if I could. You should know that by now.”

 

I sighed, “All right. But let me know if you hear anything from them. If nothing else, I’ll just go back after the Conference and see you at school.” Braden didn’t say anything. We ate in silence for some time before I spoke.

 

“I went to that hallway were the Venz are.” It was my secret; I had a right to share.

 

“Why? You were not allowed!” Braden glared at me.

 

“I didn’t know. I saw them, in their armor. They spoke to me.” I felt excited.

 

“Well, you are still alive, so I suppose that is all well and good. I cannot even go there. We are technically not supposed to speak to them until the treaty is signed.”

 

“I know.”

 

“No, you don’t.” It came quickly.

 

“Yes, I do.”

 

“How is that possible? Nobody would talk to you.” He looked disgusted. I stared back, unsure.

 

“I—yes they would.” I set my fork down. “Yes they would!” I left the table in a flurry. It was raining outside; I stood outside the doors, soaking. Fuming.

 

Braden came out some time later. He stood next to me, rain quickly drenching him.

 

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

 

“Yes, you did.” I knew he did.

 

“I really don’t know what to say.” My eyelashes dripped wet, I looked at him, frowning.

 

“None of you know what to say.”

 

“Forget it, okay?” Braden glanced up at the gray sky. “We should get back.”

 

“Braden.” As he made for the car, I caught his arm, pulling him back. He came back limpy, gripping my other arm, staring down at me.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“What do you think is going to happen?” I wanted to tell him about my dream, but I couldn’t. Something wouldn’t let me.

 

“With what?”

 

“The Conference. Doesn’t it feel weird?” He considered this, and then smiled lopsidedly.

 

“It always feels weird, change always feels weird. It was not by chance that this all happened.” He laughed. I gazed up at him, moving him closer subconsciously. He rested his head atop mine and wrapped arms around me. “Warmth.” I felt his chest vibrate when he spoke.

 

“Royalty feels weird.”

 

“Yes, yes it does. Don’t worry, you’ll be safe. The right people will be safe.” We parted and entered the car again, sopping wet. The car was filled with conversation on the way back. I retired to my room rather tired. I saw the dagger on the nightstand and put it under my pillow.

 

I slept soundly for the first time in a few days. I was content. I was safe.

 

The day of the Conference had arrived. I was up early. Breakfast was served in a small dining hall. I joined Caleb. Lidia soon came in and we spoke of the day’s festivities. Braden had not arrived by the time a gong sounded throughout the manor. It was the signal to congregate in the throne room.

 

It was larger than I expected. Gigantic. Vaulted ceilings of marble that went into a dome, strands of light passed through small rivulets in the dome. Columns held the dome, twelve of them, each column matched with one paladin standing guard. The chamber itself was circular, glass windows were farther out giving a gorgeous view of the sweeping plains around Cathedral. The throne room was abuzz. A red carpet led from the door to the large throne, intricately etched with vines and leaves. A smaller throne was to the right. There were lavish divans to the left, two for Prince David and Caleb. Another to the right of the smaller throne was for Lidia. A circle of chairs surrounded a small table near the throne; a booklet was set upon it, and a quill rested lazily upon the wood. The treaty. The chairs belonged to the Duchy. Braden’s father was sitting in one, chatting with the Duchess of Telam; I saw that he looked tired.

 

Various ministers roamed around, chatting. I wandered around. Caleb and Lidia stood near their respective seats. David soon entered dressed in lavish royal regalia. A confidence emanated from him, this day. Braden entered some time later, greeting me and wandered over to chat with Lidia and Caleb quite seriously. I wondered what it was about. Soon the throne room began to fill: royal guards wandered between the crowds, servicemen in suits, obscure earpieces whispered into their ears.

 

Soon trumpets sounded; the king approached. The throne room bowed as the king and queen made their way across the crimson carpet. The sun cascaded into the throne room igniting the marble to a glowing white. The king spoke briefly with the Duchy and with various Ministers that approached him; then, he neared his throne.

 

He motioned for the rest to sit; he remained standing.

 

“Welcome!” I could see camera teams moving silently through the crowd; the media was present. Outside, the king’s voice was projected to the crowds standing in various parks and squares in cities throughout Elijah. “Today is a day of history. Today we shall make amends, right wrongs, and hope for a better future for Elijah.” Applause arose; a hand went up to silence the roar. “Today we are joined by guests, neighbors and now our friends. Welcome them today with open arms, warmth and friendship, our neighbors of Venz.” He motioned toward the throne room doors, and the Venz entered.

 

The crowds hushed and the air became still. The creatures from the hallway entered, four of them. They moved like liquid; it made my eyes hurt. They stood still and soon more entered, attendants. Their heads were shaved; they were dressed plainly in gray. One stepped forward, bowing to the king, then to each side of the throne room. Whispers exploded in the crowd; the king raised his hand for silence.

 

“For peace!”

 

The attendant who had stepped forward spoke in the language the black armored guards had spoken to me early. I could not see that well; I pushed through the crowd to get a better view. A man nearest the king spoke loudly, a translator.

 

“Great King of Elijah, brothers and sisters, we come seeking friendship.” The crowds roared, applause filled the chamber. The Venz did not smile, nor move. The Venz herald clapped once; the armored guards shifted into the air and were gone. The other attendants left the throne room to return with four large drums.

 

The herald spoke again in the ancient tongue; it echoed in the chamber, it was beautiful. There was no other way to describe it. The translator spoke afterward.

 

“We wish to bestow an ancient tradition shared by our ancestors to you, Great King. I present the son of the Matriarch of Gorsk.” The attendant sank to his knees, bringing his lips to kiss the carpet and remained in that position. Another entered the throne room, a tall youth.

 

He looked wild; his hair was bushy and trailed down his back, a vibrant auburn color. He wore intricate clothing; trailing from his shoulders, various colored ribbons swayed in some unseen wind. His face was painted, lines dripping from the eyes to the jaw line, viridian shadow about his eyes. It was an ethereal sight; he wore no shoes and walked lazily toward the attendant until he was standing beside him.

 

“People of Elijah.” He spoke our common language. The crowd ignited once more.

 

“You speak our language?” Prince David sat up in his chair, his voice dominated the throne room.

 

The son of the Matriarch turned to Prince David. “I am versed in several languages of the realms and realms abroad, son of Titian.” The made-up gaze returned to the king, however David added more. The king glanced at his son, but said nothing.

 

“Do you have a name?”

 

The Venz representative paused a moment, inclining his head in the direction of David.

 

“Yes, I am Rodef, son of Matriarch Eliza.”

 

“Why have you brought so few men with you? Do you not fear us?” There was a hush in the air; I tensed slightly.

 

“There is nothing to fear when peace is to be had.” The crowd exploded into applause, Rodef merely nodded and returned his gaze to the king. “I must ask of one thing, Great Titian?”

 

“Speak.”

 

“Why were we not welcomed to your lands?” The crowd murmured something, whispers weaving in and out. The king sat up briefly, at a loss for words. Rodef waited passively.

 

“Hours earlier you had your contraptions over Gelmorath bridge. How can we greet something with war on their mind?” David spoke up. The king turned, resting a hand on his son’s arm; whispers passed between them.

 

“We keep patrols at the various bridges leading between our lands; finally an order was given to remove them. There is not much more I can say. I am not dishonored by a lack of welcome, Great King. We were welcomed by that boy, but by no one else.” His arm shot up, finger pointing directly at me.

 

All eyes turned to me. I was paralyzed. The king regarded me for a moment, standing at the edge of the crowd, and smiled lightly, nodding.

 

“A loyal subject of the crown…” the king mused. I saw Rodef’s makeup shift and change color. I stared, and his eyes turned to me. His head inclined slightly. He spoke once more.

 

“Great King, before the ceremonies begin, I must offer a sacred tradition of our dance to you. Please, enjoy…” he motioned for the attendant still kissing the rug to depart. The bald man swiftly exited. The others produced sticks and began to slowly tap at the drums creating a buzz in the air.

 

“Music! A common interest!” The king proclaimed. I watched the queen rest a hand on the king’s forearm. I was tense; it was from the beat of the drums. Rodef moved off to the side. The crowd parted to give him a large niche from which to watch; he did not seem to pay them any attention.

 

The drumming suddenly stopped and the air filled with the soft chime of a bell. A slender figure shuffled into the room, her steps moving in time with the bell as it rang. It was a she; the figure was far too slender to be a male. She was draped in a flowing veil and white cloth. I looked around for Braden but could not spot him; the audience was far to compact. I looked toward the royal family. Caleb sat up slightly, and David looked rather bored. The king and queen whispered to one another pointing at the veiled woman.

 

As the bell rang once more, the woman made a violent move, throwing up the cloth producing two small swords in hands encased in lace. She spun the blades once between her fingers, the chamber tensed. The drums were struck once more and she changed positions, spinning the blades across her fingertips. She held the position and stopped. The veil kept her face hidden, but I could see her dark hair. The blades themselves were finely crafted, holes lined the hilt, probably where she spun the blades so gracefully.

 

The drumbeats began slowly and each time they halted, she would halt in a new position, moving across the carpet toward the throne. Soon the drums became more frequent and the blades spun faster, she was a dervish, her clothing spinning out around her. The blades soon arched over her head, dragging against each other, the drums stopped and the blades spun once then halted. She tapped the blades together; a heavenly sound rang out into the chamber. The audience applauded.

 

The dance continued; the blade dancer would move slowly along the carpet, spinning the blades. At a crescendo they would come together letting a soft hum echo through the hall. The drumming became quicker; she reached the stairs to the throne and danced before the king.

 

She spun the blades and brought them together, again and again, the king shifted in his seat, tugging at his ear every now and then. I saw the queen turn to him and jump slightly; blood was slowly dripping from his ears. The queen stood motioning for someone to come over. The dancer continued spinning the blades faster, the drum reached maximum speed, and I stepped from the crowd. Caleb stood, looking towards the door.

 

The dancer spun back flipped gracefully down the stairs, spun once on her heel and sent a blade spinning through the air toward the king. She threw her veil off; it was a beautiful young girl.

 

“For the Dawn!” She cried, and then cut her own throat.

 

The king sat with the blade protruding from his chest, blood pouring from the wound. The queen screamed, guards surged from nowhere, people sprinted for the doors. I saw Rodef look around. He seemed unaware and confused.

 

David rose, shouting, pointing, “Kill them! Kill all Venz!” He sprinted from the throne, drawing a weapon and charged at Rodef. The blade arched into the air but was parried, Caleb stood between Rodef and David. They spat words at each other. Screams grew louder. I was pushed, trampled. Rodef sprinted from the throne room; the attendants followed—the ones that were not already dead. The white blade dancer lay dead in a pool of blood.

 

Paladins surrounded the king, he was moved, and the crown fell from his brow, rolling down the stairs, droplets of blood trailing off. I ran for the crown, grabbing it. It felt so heavy. I turned to the hall; it was utter chaos. Caleb was leaning over one of the bleeding attendants; David was nowhere to be seen. I heard the queen’s sobs as they dragged him away.

 

“He is not dead! No king dies!” the queen shouted.

 

I gripped the crown, unsure what to do. Someone tugged at me, it was Braden, he had a weapon in his hand: the dagger from my room.

 

“Take this.” Sweat dripped from his brow, blood stained his jacket. “It was the wrong one…they switched the dancers… damn it all!” I stared, confused.

 

“What? The king was attacked!”

 

“Jeremy! Listen to me, listen to me!”

 

I heard Caleb yell, “Braden!” From outside the hall, there were gunshots, a surge of air passed the throne room sending several guards into the air slamming against the walls.

 

“The Venz attacked the king!”

 

“No! Listen to me … listen to me Jeremy… listen.” He grabbed my face, focusing on him. I nodded, breathing heavily. “Go home, go back to Westfield, go now, go quickly, and run. There is a car out back. Speak to no one, use this.” He put the dagger into my jacket pocket. “Run fast, don’t look back.” I gave him the crown.

 

Tears bled from my eyes. I was so unsure. I ran from the throne room, past the dead assassin, past Caleb. In the hall, I saw Lidia holding a rifle, shouting orders.

 

“I will come for you!” Braden yelled. I ran past the fighting in the hallway, down the stairs. As fast as I could, home, I needed to get home.

 

I heard screams, the country wept, the king was dead.