by Rai Aren
“What were you reminiscing about?” Traeus asked, curious as to Assan’s strange demeanor. He seemed sad, anxious. Very unlike himself.
“The day of the accident,” Assan said, his heart still pounding, “what a terrible time that was.” He held his King’s gaze. It was difficult to see the reaction to the painful memory.
Traeus blanched. He had not expected this. “Yes, it was…”
“Your Majesty,” he pressed on, “I have often believed that hope can spring from the darkest of hours, that each of us are ruled by our own destiny, and that this destiny must be followed even under the most painful, the most difficult of circumstances.”
Traeus did not know what to say to this. He had no idea why Assan was saying these things, or where it was coming from, but it was making him nervous.
Assan closed his eyes for a moment, recalling vividly the day he told the King that his wife had been killed and his daughter lost to the river and presumed dead. He felt the tears welling up inside him and tried to fight them off.
“Assan, what is wrong?” Traeus asked worriedly.
The Head Priest opened his eyes, the tears glistening, and looked at his King. “Do you believe I have always served you faithfully and to the best of my abilities?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Do you know that my loyalty to you and to your family has been unwavering all of my days?”
“Assan, yes, yes. Why do you ask such things?” the King replied, growing alarmed. He sat forward in his seat.
Assan held the ankh around his neck. “I have a reason, your Majesty, I just need you to know before I tell you that I have never, would never do anything to hurt you or your family. Everything I have done has been to protect your family, to see that your line continues on to rule our people with a loving and kind hand, as you have always done.”
Traeus looked him, now very nervous as to where this was leading.
Assan felt the pressure building within him. He stood up, “Your Majesty, there is something of great importance that I must tell you,” he now spoke confidently, decisively.
The King stood as well, facing his most trusted, life-long confidant and advisor. He placed his hand on the table for support.
“It is about your daughter, Princess Anjia.”
Traeus almost did not understand the words. The mention of his daughter sent a shock through his system. His mind raced. ‘Why was Assan speaking of her now, after all these years?’ “What about her, Assan?” he asked, his voice sounding tight.
Assan inhaled deeply. “Your Majesty, she is alive.”
His knees buckled. He felt like he had been struck. “What?” Traeus gasped. This was the last thing he expected to hear. His mind raced with a thousand questions. “I do not understand. She died, the accident…”
“She survived.”
Traeus swayed. He gripped the edge of the table. “But she…I do not understand. We searched for her, she was gone…”
“She lives,” Assan said. He looked at his King, letting the shocking revelation sink in for a moment.
“But where is she? How did you find her?” he asked, his head spinning.
Assan decided to get the truth out quickly. It was time he faced the consequences of his actions. “She has been safe all these years. She was found shortly after the Queen was killed. We knew the Princess was in danger, she was meant to have died that day, too. I decided that the only way to keep her safe was to hide her away, until the day came when it was safe to bring her home. I decided not to tell you because I did not think you would agree to be parted from her.”
The words felt like a blow to his stomach. It was almost too much to grasp. “You did what?” Traeus asked, his voice hoarse, his face reddening.
“There were spies within the Palace, deadly enemies very near to your family…Zazmaria, the Draxens…if you knew of her survival, they too would find out eventually and would never stop hunting her…for she is the Child of the Prophecy.”
Assan watched his King as he desperately tried to process what he was saying.
“I do not believe what I am hearing…” Traeus visibly shook and slumped back down in his chair, his face in his hands.
Assan decided to continue. “There were signs before the accident, the Princess’ insight, her visions, the incident with the Amsara monument, but the day the Queen died, Amsara our lion, on his own suddenly raced out to your daughter. He knew exactly where to find her and he pulled her out from the river. Your Majesty, she was saved by a magical lion, just as the prophecy said.”
Assan wanted to tell the King more of that day, but thought the better of it. He did not want to overwhelm him. The King would let him know when he was ready to hear more. “Your Majesty, the responsibility, the decision, was mine and mine alone.”
The King was stunned, utterly blindsided by the admission. He felt his heart race and his head swim. It felt as though he was in a dream. It was all too much. He felt sick, confused, but at the same time a prayer from long ago was answered, a prayer that had long since died in his heart. His daughter…alive…he could not believe it. Happiness, grief, anger all swirled within him in an almost debilitating mix.
Assan sat quietly back down in the chair, near his King and waited.
“Where…where is she?” the words spoken were barely above a whisper.
“She is on her way back, your Majesty. She is coming home.”
His eyes widened. “Here? She is coming here?” the King began to weep with joy, weep with confusion. His mind was a jumble of emotions, thoughts and feelings which he could scarcely give voice to.
“Yes,” Assan said, “she will be here by nightfall.”
Traeus mouthed the words, ‘nightfall’. “My precious daughter, home…” Traeus reveled in those words, letting their warmth melt all over him, as though the sun shone on him, for him, and him alone. He pictured his little girl, the last time he had seen her, her beautiful face, her lovely long black hair. He then realized the person he was picturing was a five-year old child. Tramen was now fourteen, so would she be. At once, it dawned on him that it would not be the tiny girl returning to him, but a young woman and then he made the connection of all the years he had lost. The pain he and Tramen had had to endure. They had missed her terribly. The grief had been nearly unbearable. All the times he had told Tramen his sister was gone, and Tramen never believing it, never accepting it.
Assan sat silently, allowing the realization to sink in.
Traeus then recalled the lies. Years and years of lies…and of secrets. He looked at Assan. He no longer knew this man sitting across from him. Maybe he had never known him. Traeus continued to look at him, his expression darkening, his temper flaring. He felt out of control and the flood of emotions, happiness, pain, grief, and now a raging anger, consumed him. He shot out of his chair, which fell over backwards.
Assan, startled by the sudden movement, got up quickly, nearly knocking over his own chair.
Traeus glared at him, his hands balled into fists, his breathing heavy. “All these years, you have lied to me? The day my wife was killed, you further poisoned and ruined my life by taking my only daughter away from me? Away from her family?” Traeus was seething with a mixture of anger and anguish that was overwhelming him. “Had I not suffered enough?” he yelled, his face red with fury. “Had Tramen not suffered enough?”
Assan’s mind raced with what to say. He had tried to prepare himself for this moment, but now that it was here, and he felt the onslaught of anger and disbelief, he found himself struggling to respond.
“Answer me!” Traeus screamed at the top of his lungs, taking a step towards him. In his fury, he knocked over a smaller table that was standing nearby.
“Your Majesty, please understand, it had to be. Princess Anjia was not safe here. Traitors were amongst us. T
hey killed your wife, our Queen, right under our noses. We were unable to prevent that. I could not allow your daughter to fall to the same fate. Your Majesty, Princess Anjia was the target that day!”
He could not tell his King that Anjia herself had chosen to remain in exile for three more years, believing the time had not yet come for her return. Assan knew this would be far too painful for Traeus to hear right now. The Princess would have to be the one to tell him, if she ever chose to.
Traeus stood there seething in rage. He began to teeter.
Assan moved forward to help him.
“Do not touch me! Do not dare come near me!” he yelled. He wanted to wrap his hands around Assan’s neck in that moment and squeeze the life out of him.
Assan backed away, his head bowed and his hands outstretched. “I am sorry.”
Traeus did not know what to feel, he was running on adrenaline and hot emotions. It was too much for him to make sense of – the joy of his beloved daughter being alive, but tempered by the knowledge of how much he lost in the years they were apart and how much he and his family suffered because of a lie. He yelled out, anguished.
Assan cringed at what he witnessed his King going through. “Your Majesty, I am so sorry to have caused you such anguish, but please understand – I did it to ensure Princess Anjia would have a future. I knew one day she would be reunited with her family. I knew one day I would have to face you and tell you the truth. I have lived with that burden all these years, knowing what this knowledge would do to you.” Assan continued to keep his distance, afraid of his reaction. “But, Your Majesty, I did it so your daughter would grow and flourish and become the person she was born to be. She accepted this a long time ago. She knows she is the Chosen One.”
“Where has she been?” the King asked, slumping down in his chair, knowing any answer would be like a stab through his heart.
Assan filled him in on everything.
Traeus cried tears of sorrow, mixed with unbridled joy. After a time, he began to regain his composure.
Assan sat silently, patiently, just waiting.
Traeus calmed down a little, wiped his eyes and breathed deeply. “Assan, I cannot believe what you have done. She was…she is my daughter and the responsibility for her care and safety was mine, not yours. The decisions should have been mine and mine alone.” He could hardly bear to look at him. “You had no right to do what you did. You have betrayed me, my family…”
“Your Majesty…” Assan tried to interject.
The King cut him off, waving his hands. He was furious. “I do not want to hear any more of this right now. I can barely stand the sight of you.” Traeus got up and paced the room. “I am overjoyed, of course, that she is alive, that she is safe, but I do not think I can ever accept she would not have been just as safe in her true home, with her true family, under my protection. All these years, Tramen has had to grow up without the comfort of his twin sister’s presence. The loss to my son is incalculable. Because of you!” He stopped in his tracks, pointing a finger at the Head Priest. “Tramen told me countless times he did not believe she was dead. Every time, I told him he was only wishing it were so, that she was lost to us forever.” He shook his head. He could not believe what Assan had done. “You have undermined my place as his father and undermined my position as King. I do not think I will ever be able to trust you again… nor forgive you.”
Assan did not even try to respond. He knew he was guilty of all of that. He deserved no forgiveness.
The King stood still, nearly consumed in his fury, but he knew he had other things to attend to right now. He had to tell his wife, his sons. He had to prepare for his daughter’s arrival. He could scarcely believe he was going to see her again in this life. He could not even comprehend the idea of his little girl being the mythical Child of the Prophecy. It was simply too much and he did not care, in this moment, about anything other than seeing his precious little girl again.
Traeus turned his back on Assan. “You will have someone notify me immediately once she arrives.” Without waiting for an answer, Traeus waved his hand dismissively, “Leave. Now.”
Assan hung his head in sorrow and obeyed him. Though he had long imagined his King’s response to the news, the reality of it was far more painful to bear.
Chapter 7
A Family is Told
AFTER the King had dismissed Assan, he left to find his wife. He felt as though he was in a dream, or that he had lost his mind. ‘Did he really just have that conversation with Assan? Was his precious daughter really coming home?’ He stopped suddenly, he felt nauseous and dizzy. He caught himself, placing a hand on the wall. He felt his face heat up, a thin bead of sweat on his brow.
Just then a Palace servant happened by, seeing his King falter in his step. He frowned. “Your Highness, are you unwell?”
“I am fine, I just need to find the Queen. It is most urgent. Do you know where she is?”
“Yes, your Highness, she is in the gardens with your sons. Shall I summon her for you?” he said, pointing in their direction.
“No,” the King said, shaking his head, “I will go see her.”
“May I offer my assistance to you?” the servant asked, holding a hand out.
“Thank-you, but no,” the King said waving him off. “Please carry on with your duties.”
“Yes, your Highness,” the servant bowed and continued on his way slowly, looking back at his King to make sure he was all right.
Traeus quickened his pace out to the Palace gardens. He needed to speak with his wife first, before telling anyone else this news. He needed her help to get through this. He finally reached the double doors leading out to the gardens, which had lovingly been replanted and re-landscaped in the years after the terrible destruction.
He paused, seeing his wife playing on the grass with their three sons. Mindara was a slender woman, with a kind face. Her long black hair was braided, her favorite way to wear her hair. He smiled. Then a memory came back to him. A memory of a similar scene long ago, though Tramen was much younger. He pictured Axiana out in the original Palace gardens with the twins, only three years old at the time, Mindara sitting near, as Axiana’s handmaiden. He now loved Mindara nearly as much as he had Axiana, and was completely loyal to her, but the memory saddened him a little. Axiana had been his first love. His little family once whole, was broken, and now years later put back together in a different form.
He watched Setar playing with his brothers, the young boy now nine years old, and he thought of his own brother, Alaj. Alaj’s wife, Princess Zazmaria, had an affair with a sworn enemy of the Royal family, Zhek Draxen. Setar was Zhek’s son, though Zazmaria denied it at first, claiming he was Alaj’s. When Alaj was killed, Traeus took Setar in as his own. Zhek had disappeared after the horrible devastation, presumed dead.
Life went on as the Kierani people tried to rebuild their lives. Traeus and Mindara had named their first child together, a son, after Traeus’ brother Alaj. The young boy was now two years old and he idolized his older brothers. Seeing the three boys together reminded Traeus of just how much he missed his own brothers, Alaj and Amoni, both lost at a young age to a cruel time full of betrayal and secrets and lies. Traeus had been the oldest and now he was the only one left. He hoped his sons would never know such pain.
In that moment, Traeus keenly felt all he had lost over the years. He thought of the evil plots perpetrated by the Draxen family and all it had cost him and his people. Tears welled up in his eyes. He squeezed them shut, gripping the door handle.
In spite of his heartache, he had been granted much happiness in place of all that had been taken from him. He still had a loving family to care for. And now, something he dared not ever dream had blessedly re-entered his life, all their lives. He shook his head, wiping the tears away. He must go forward, the past must stay where it is. A brand new day was dawning. His d
aughter was alive. She was coming home.