Two Thousand Years

by M. Dalto

  “But—”

  “Please,” he insisted, offering his arm.

  Still uncertain, she finally nodded in agreement.

  “Excellent, this will give us the perfect opportunity to continue with the lesson we were unable to complete yesterday. There is still much you must learn before the coronation ceremony.”

  She pursed her lips as she silently followed the Councillor. Her decision still hadn’t been made, despite how welcome Treyan made her feel, or how strong the Annals seemed to respond to her presence. Even still, hearing him out couldn’t be so bad- there was no harm in having more knowledge, and perhaps not having Treyan around for a bit would allow her some time to get her thoughts straight, and corroborate what information he already provided.

  “How are things with the Prince?” the Councillor asked.

  “Things?” Alex stammered as she fell in step beside him, her heart pounding slightly. “Oh, they're fine. Or, at last as fine as it can be after I was kidnapped and left unconscious for a week.”

  He nodded, as if pleased with her response, despite the sarcasm in her tone. “As well it should be. No two were better suited than the Queen Empress and the Crown Prince.”

  “I suppose that can be expected when one is predestined.” She tried her hardest not to roll her eyes.

  “It may seem odd now,” the Councillor continued. “And perhaps somewhat rushed, but I assure you, Empress, it will all make sense in time.”

  The Councillor led her back to the same small meeting room they had visited the day before. Without Treyan, however, it seemed empty, almost too quiet. Perhaps it was for the best, she thought to herself as she took her seat at the head of the table. She would undoubtedly feel more comfortable asking her questions in private rather than before an audience, anyway.

  “I assume you have many questions, Empress,” the Councillor observed as he took his place at the other end of the table.

  “Yes, I do. If you don't mind...”

  “Not all, Empress. I will try to answer them to the best of my abilities, for I am sure you have many.”

  “Thank you.” She took a deep breath, hoping she was going to ask the right questions. “If it isn't obvious enough this is extremely overwhelming...”

  “You are not the first Empress I've had the honor of acclimating.”

  Alex thought for a moment. “You knew Treyan's mother?”

  He nodded. “Queen Empress Saratanya. We were quite close.”

  “So, you knew Reylor as well?”

  The Councillor nodded. “You want to know why he's no longer here.”

  She nodded. “Treyan said he was banished because he couldn't accept his Fate.”

  The Councillor merely looked at her for a moment, and she returned his stare, wondering if she had said something wrong. He waved his hand, and the light globe reappeared at the center of the table, an image of the Annals glowing above the table top.

  “You're familiar with this book, or rather the book familiarized itself with you.”

  Alex nodded as she watched.

  “These Annals contain everything that has happened and everything that will happen within our Empire. You could say it is a self-sufficient record of our histories and our futures. Anyone with the ability can read it, but the warning is always there. What you read cannot be undone. It is a risk you take the moment you turn the page.”

  An image of Reylor surrounded by books while within the library displayed itself between them.

  “Lord Reylor was an inquisitive young man, as he should have been. It was in his blood to have a thirst for knowledge. However, knowledge is power, and not everyone knows how to handle that power once they have it in their control.

  “Reylor refused to accept the Prophecy and the future it laid out before him. In his rage he blamed Prince Treyan for the words within the Annals, as though the Prince was solely responsible for Reylor's decided fate. In a final attempt to forget all that was written, he chose the Dark magics of our realm and tried to destroy the book. Fortunately, the Annals, in that sense, cannot be destroyed, and the Prophecy itself fought back against the Betrayer. From that point on, Lord Reylor was unwritten from our Annals, and banished from the Empire.”

  The images of the past shuffled before them like a deck of cards while the Councillor told his history lesson. Within the globe, Alex viewed Reylor being brought to what looked like a throne room full of peering eyes and judgmental glances, and at the top of the dais was none other than Treyan. The globe changed to show the outcast Lord Steward looking to his brother for one final pardon, but Treyan did not give him another glance. There was an image of Reylor on horseback fleeing the palace, crossing over the barren wasteland of the battle ground, further beyond to the grassy plains, and eventually coming to a dense wall of trees and overgrowth, where once he entered, his form seemed to disappear not only from sight, but from existence as well.

  Alex remembered back to the conversation she and Treyan had about his brother, and just as she was about to open her mouth to ask for additional information, the globe turned to black and soon disappeared.

  “Unfortunately, Empress, that is all the time we have to discuss that today,” the Councillor declared as he brought his hand down to the table.

  Disappointment swept over her, just as she felt like she was starting to figure things out. Hearing the stories from Treyan was one thing; hearing them from the Councillor made them seem all the more real. Since she was never one to just let things go, she made a mental note that this would remain upon her personal agenda to research the moment she had some spare time alone, but in the meantime her attention remained with the Councillor.

  There were no windows in the Councillor's chambers, so Alex had no idea how much time had passed since they began their meeting. Together they discussed the brief, early history of the Empire, the delineation of its towns, villages, and provinces, and eventually its outer territories, such as the North Mountains and the Borderlands.

  It felt like hours had passed, and Alex was beginning to contemplate asking to break for lunch, when the Councillor began a tangent regarding Keys, and the now-familiar term caught her complete and absolute attention.

  “Keys. That’s what brought be me here,” she interjected; now sitting up on the edge of her chair the Councillor had her enthralled.

  He nodded, a small smile on his lips at her sudden interest in his lesson. “Difficult to make and powerful in nature, only few actually possess the knowledge to bring them into creation.”

  “But Treyan had one to bring me here—”

  “The Empress’ Key,” he confirmed. “A ceremonial offering to the new Crown Prince upon his maturity, to hold secure and defend with his life to ensure the next Queen Empress arrives within the Empire once the Prophecy deems her presence necessary.”

  “But Reylor had a Key as well—he said as much through his orb-thing when we were in my apartment.”

  The Councillor’s gaze darkened, and she was pleased to see someone else feel as pissed off at the mention of his name as she did. “Unfortunately, the knowledge in Key construction was taught to him in confidence, and he took it with him when he was banished to the Borderlands.”

  She opened her mouth to ask more, to find out all she could about the brother that betrayed the Empire, but a sudden mental twinge sparked at the back of her psyche as though something was horribly wrong. She stood up from her chair, almost knocking it over, as the feeling of impending doom swept over her.

  “Empress, is everything alright?”

  Before she could respond, a plain-looking woman arrived at the Councillor’s door. She was clothed in a white dress, with her hair tied behind her head in tight chignon, but what caught Alex’s attention was the red splattered across the white apron tied at her waist.

  The red of blood.

  It was enough to confirm Alex's fears, and without further consideration, she was out of the room, jogging past the unknown woman and completely ignoring the Councillor's
pleas for her to return.

  Instinct ran her through the palace, her stubborn mind set on finding Treyan, unable to shake the dread that something bad had happened to him. She soon found herself descending an unfamiliar flight of stairs that brought her well below the ground level of the palace. At the bottom of the stairs waited another heavy wooden door, which she pushed opened open without hesitation.

  Through the door, barred rooms resembling cells ran along the wall to her left, their decrepit state evidence of the years gone by without use. She had to wonder why they remained if they weren’t being used. Surely someone could have found a better use for them instead of leaving them empty to collect dust. But still she hurried on, reaching the door at the opposite end of the hallway and opening it as quickly as she could.

  She stopped only once she saw the scene before her.

  She was in the infirmary, which explained the feeling of familiarity. Surrounding an old bed were two women dressed similarly to the one that had entered the Councillor’s chambers earlier, and only then did she realize they were the palace’s healers. Their heads turned to look at her in silent unison, but the sense of dread in her stomach increased with each passing second as she feared for what captivated their attention within the bed before them.

  12

  “Will you stop it? You're going to give her a heart attack.”

  Her heart caught in her throat when she heard Treyan's familiar voice. She rushed over to the side of bed, pushing her way between the two women, knocking one back, but she didn't care.

  Treyan lay in rough-sewn leather armor, his hair out of its ponytail, and with his face dirty and smudged as though he rolled in the mud. At first glance, nothing seemed wrong with the rest of his body, but then Alex looked at his right leg. The pants were charred away and from his thigh down to his calf, and the skin oozed with blood and pus. In a few places she could see down to the muscle, or worse. Trying to maintain her composure, the last thing she wanted to do was throw up before these people who looked at her like she was someone important.

  “Welcome, Empress,” the first woman from earlier said as she arrived through the open infirmary door.

  Alex tried to swallow down the bile, as she turned towards the elder healer as she approached the bed. “Will he be alright?”

  “There’s only one way to find out,” the first woman said, but her attention was on the other two women on either side of Alex. Soon she was barking out orders, telling one to fetch warm water and soap, and the other to grab clean cloths and dry bandages as she rolled up her sleeves and stood beside the Prince on the opposite side of the bed.

  Alex felt helpless as she watched. She didn't want to know what happened—she just wanted to make it better. But her eyes didn’t leave Treyan’s as the healers began their work.

  “What were you thinking, going out there by yourself?” she asked, her voice hoarse.

  “I wasn't by myself,” he insisted, wincing as he tried to sit up, and the elder healer pushed him back down so that the others could begin to untie the armor at his shoulders. “But I do have an empire to defend.”

  “And what about me?”

  She must have looked stricken, for his gaze softened.

  “I'm sorry,” he whispered.

  She allowed herself to believe him—that he meant it. “Don't do it again,” she scolded quietly, and had to move another step back while the healers worked at removing the remaining armor, and eventually his shirt, leaving him bare from the waist up, and she looked away before the blush on her cheeks became too obvious.

  “Yes, Empress,” he said, amusement in his tone, even if he did hiss when a healer moved too close to his injured leg.

  She returned her attention to him at that, and her eyes once again fell towards the wound.

  “You don’t need to remain for this, Empress,” the elder healer reminded her.

  “I know,” she said softly, but didn’t move to leave. Not as the healers began untying the thick laces of his heavy leather pants, cutting away at the material around the wound for easier removal.

  This time, she didn’t allow herself to turn away. The leather of the pants that remained around the wound looked as though it had melted into the skin itself, and something in Alex’s gut told her its removal was going to become painful very quickly.

  Treyan was silent the whole time, watching the healers work around him as much he monitored Alex’s every move. She couldn't tell if it was out of amusement or respect that she actually remained. Finally, the elder healer approached him with a piece of smooth wood in her hand and held it up to him as her glanced at her. “This is going to hurt, my Prince.”

  He smirked. “I’ve had worse.”

  The healer rolled her eyes, and again offered the piece of wood to Treyan. “Let’s see if you’ve kept that sense of humor in the next hour or so.”

  “Challenge accepted,” he joked, but took the wood from the healer all the same and placed it between his teeth before he settled back on the bed.

  Alex was certain she never heard a grown man scream and cry out as much as he did in that hour.

  The wound was much larger than she originally thought, wrapping itself around the outside of his thigh and working its way down to the back of his calf. Even as she watched the healers work on his leg, a part of her wished she had taken the elder healer’s advice and left when she had the chance. They made quick work of the removal of the remainder of the charred leather, doing all they could to keep from ripping the melted material from his body. It reminded her of a medieval Band- Aid, only the faster they worked, the more pain they caused Treyan, until the largest part needed to be removed, and he eventually passed out from it.

  From what she could hear from the healer’s conversation, the wound was more of a burn though they were certain nothing natural could have cause so much damage. Alex had to move to a chair in the far corner of the room as a healer began to remove dirt and debris from the exposed muscle, and she swore she heard Treyan moan as if he was going to regain consciousness, but his body remained still, and his eyes closed.

  She felt guilty, just sitting there and watching, wanting to help but knowing she’d only be in the way if she did. The healers were extremely efficient, and though it felt longer than an hour to Alex, Treyan continued to remain silent and still while they worked, cleaning, washing, and bandaging the wound around his leg completely from thigh to calf.

  She had to wonder how long it would be before he’d be able to walk on it again.

  “You did well, Empress,” the elder healer said quietly as she dipped a cloth in a nearby wash basin and brought it to the dirty body of the Prince in her care while the other two started cleaning the work area around the bed.

  Alex looked up to her, startled that she even remembered she was there, and shook her head. “I didn’t do anything,” she corrected her, though she watched as the grime washed away to reveal small scrapes and scratches that ran all along his cheeks, neck and torso.

  “You remained,” she said gently, her attention on her patient as she spoke. “That matters.”

  Alex wanted to argue further but decided against it. Instead she watched the healer as she worked, cleaning Treyan with care, making sure to cleanse his injuries of debris as they revealed themselves, and remaining ever professional despite the hard, toned muscle beneath her hands.

  Alex was uncertain if she’d be able to maintain the same restraint.

  “I assisted in his birth,” the healer said. “He and his brother both. It was not an easy delivery for Queen Empress Saratanya, but she did well enough. Which made her passing such a surprise. She had always been so strong.”

  “I’m sorry,” Alex said, uncertain of what else she could say.

  The elder healer straightened, tossing the cloth into the wash bin. “Her son is very much like her.”

  “And what of his father?” she heard herself ask before she could stop the words from tumbling out.

  The healer turned to her th
en, her dark eyes weary yet friendly. “Come closer to the bed,” she said instead of answering her question. “He may be asleep for a while longer yet, but you’re welcome to remain with him until he wakes.”

  Alex looked to the sleeping Prince in the bed, and as she stood, only then did she realize how tired she, too, had become. And how hungry she was. But she didn’t want to leave Treyan, not yet, so she nodded to the healer as she pulled a small stool next to the bed. The other two healers had excused themselves with their arms full of soiled cloths and supplies, and the elder healer sooner followed only after she brought the sheets of the bed carefully up to his waist and tucked them in efficiently. She gave Alex a final nod before leaving her alone with the sleeping Prince, closing the infirmary door behind her as she departed.

  Alex waited for the door to shut tight before she focused her attention solely on Treyan in the bed before her. His breaths were steady, his bare chest rising and falling as his lungs filled and emptied. He was alive—regardless of what had happened to him, he was alive. She held his hand in hers while she watched him sleep.

  Alex woke with a start as a hand rested on her shoulder. She hadn’t expected to fall asleep. She immediately looked up at Treyan, but he was still sound asleep. Confused, she glanced over her shoulder and saw the Councillor, holding a candle in his hand.

  “Empress, it is getting late. Allow me to escort you back to your chambers.”

  She blinked at the Councillor, slowly regaining her bearings, and then returned her attention to Treyan in the bed.

  “The Prince will be fine, Empress,” the Councillor assured her as though he could read her mind. “The wound was expertly cleansed. I must say, I am always quite impressed with the healers’ skills every time they work.”

  She looked down and blushed, noticing her hand still within Treyan’s. “When he wakes—”

  “You’ll be the first to know, but you’ll do no one any good if you do not get your rest, Empress.”