by Pirateaba
“Hush. You might wake someone. Or something.”
Flos ignored their complaints as he smiled. He breathed in the night air and extended an arm, indicating the wide, flat land around his city.
“Look at this land, you two. This is Chandrar. My home. Where it is not desert, it looks much like this. Dry. Some would say inhospitable. But there are valley and places where nature blooms. And the people who live here are the strongest of spirit, the most resilient.”
Trey looked around. All he saw were rocks, hills in the distance, and a dirt, unpaved road underneath. But he held his tongue.
Beside him, Teres was fidgeting on her horse. Trey couldn’t see her face in the darkness, but he knew she was glaring at Flos. She turned her head to him.
“Why do we do it, Trey? Why do we keep following him about?”
Trey shrugged.
“I dunno. Maybe it’s a Skill? Or maybe it’s because it’s him, you know?”
“How?”
“It’s like…”
Trey searched for words to describe the feeling.
“It’s like, you know, even if something bad happens, whenever we follow him, something exciting happens. And it’s usually good in the end, right? It’s like the grandest circus and movie and video game all put together. You can’t help watching him, the King I mean. And you want to be part of it.”
“I don’t want to be part of this.”
Teres indicated the horse. Trey heard it snort. He nodded.
“Yeah, but I guess it’s like—you know, a package. You have to take the good and the bad.”
“So which is this?”
Trey didn’t know. He looked ahead at the King, riding without a hint of discomfort on his horse. Trey felt like his bones were being shaken out of his body, but the King of Destruction was at home here. And he was happy.
Flos was smiling, staring down the dark road lit only by his lantern. And there was something about the way he sat in his saddle, staring ahead, that told Trey something was going to happen.
“Trey, Teres, thank you for today.”
They looked at him. The King sat high on his horse, staring into the distance. He spoke loud enough for them to hear him over the sound of the horse’ hooves, but only just.
“This day was special for me. I realize it was difficult for the two of you in light of my errors. I made many, and inconvenienced you and others greatly. But that is what made it so precious for this foolish King.”
He waved his hand back towards his city, already part of the landscape behind him.
“You have seen my mistakes, born witness to my failures. I am glad you have seen me as a man, not as a King. I enjoyed today more than I could say, and I will remember it. But now I must be what I am. A King.”
So saying, he stared ahead. And in the distance, Trey thought he could see light. Around him, the darkness was complete. The only light came from Flos’ lantern and the stars. But there was a pinpoint of something that was not starlight. It was no electric glow, but it was light. And as they rode on, Trey realized there was more than one speck of light.
“Where are we going?”
“A village.”
Flos pointed towards it, guiding his horses along the road. Trey expected to reach the village at any minute, but as they rode on and on, he realized their destination was very far away. It was only because the land here was so flat that he saw it from far off.
“We have left my kingdom. In truth, we left it the instant we passed beyond my walls. This land has been claimed by someone else. A [Lord] or some other land owner claims this village, and receives a tithe in exchange for protection.”
The King’s voice was low as they drew closer. Now Trey could make out the outlines of houses in the distance. And a wall. There was some kind of wooden barrier around the village, obscuring all but the roofs of the houses.
“They did not have a wall when I last came here.”
Flos frowned as he spotted the wall. Teres looked at him.
“When did you last come here?”
He didn’t reply. Now the village was directly ahead, minutes away. Trey was shifting in his saddle, his thighs and other parts aching, when he heard a shout. He sat bolt upright as he heard it again. It had come from the village, from the wall.
“They have spotted us.”
Flos said the words calmly, but Trey’s heart was racing. He saw shapes moving in the distance, and heard more shouting. The lights flickered. A door opened in one of the houses, and Trey saw someone block the light for a moment. He realized the village was coming to life.
“You there! Halt!”
When they were fifty meters or so away from the village, Trey heard a voice. He saw someone standing on the wall, dimly illuminated by a torch’s light. He had a bow and he was staring right at them.
“We’re no easy prey for [Thieves] or [Bandits]! And we don’t deal with travelers in the night. Begone!”
“We wish to enter the village. We come in peace.”
Flos raised his voice to shout back. The person on the walls made no reply, but after a second Trey heard a whining sound and then a thunk. His horse reared and Trey had to hold for dear life. An arrow had sprouted out of the soil in front of Flos’ horse.
“The next one will strike true! Leave us alone!”
“We should go. They’ll shoot us!”
Teres hissed at Flos, but the King made no response. He slowly got off of his steed, patting it to soothe it. He grasped hold of the reins on both Trey and Teres’ mounts and guided them off the road with his horse. Then he walked back onto the road and faced the village.
“I ask again. Will you let me enter? I bear you no ill will.”
Trey thought the person on the walls faltered. He was not alone; he could see other people manning the wall, also armed. But then the voice came back, loud and angry.
“If you are a Runner or a servant of some [Lord], state your business and offer proof of it! We cannot trust your word alone!”
Flos stared at the village. When he replied, it was in a ringing voice.
“I have a right to walk here. This land is mine.”
That silenced the person on the wall. Flos did not wait for a reply. He began walking towards the village, slowly, staring up at the people there.
“Hold your ground! Hold, I said!”
Flos made no reply. He kept walking. Trey saw the person on the wall move, and another arrow landed in the dirt next to Flos’ feet. The King paid no attention. He advanced on the village. This time, he stopped within sight of the wall, and stood there in the darkness, staring up at the figures on the wall.
“Will you not open your gates to your rightful ruler?”
Trey heard a nervous laugh from the wall.
“Rightful ruler? You’ve lost your mind, stranger. This village pays tithe to [Lord] Venith and [Lady] Maresar. But we have no master.”
“Not so.”
Flos’ voice was calm, distant. He spoke softly, growing louder until his voice filled the air.
“Once, I rode through this village. Many years ago. Yet I still remember that day clearly in my mind. I stopped here, and saw no hope, no dreams in the crushed souls of the people. So I planted my banner in the earth and claimed this land as my own. I told you to rise, to follow me and seek a brighter future by my side. Have you forgotten that day, oh villagers of Manimar?”
For a second, there was silence. Then a gasp. Trey saw the torch on the walls move. Someone took it up and brought it closer to Flos.
“It can’t be.”
They drew closer, and then Trey heard the gasp. The torch fell from the wall and landed on the ground. It cast Flos’ face into light.
Someone screamed. Another man shouted, and then there was a cry, not of anguish, but some other emotion. Trey saw the wall erupt into chaos, and then a voice, carrying above it all.
“The King! It is the King of Destruction!”
On the heels of that cry there was another.
/> “He has returned! Our lord, Flos has returned!”
“Open the gates!”
Within moments, Trey saw the gates open and light stream out. They encircled Flos, and he heard voices babbling, people weeping. The King stood in the center of it all, taking people’s hands, turning to touch people on the shoulder or head. He turned then, and stared at Trey and Teres.
They came closer, sliding off of the horses and stumbling towards him. Flos didn’t move as the gates opened wider and more people came stumbling towards him. He said only one thing.
“I have returned.”
—-
He sat in the village’s town hall. It was a simple building, used for anything and everything that needed doing. Right now, it was filled to the brim. People filled every spot available, those closest to the King sitting and looking up at him, the rest standing around the edges, staring in through the open windows, crowding around the outside.
It wasn’t just one village. Trey had seen people racing on horseback or foot, telling other villages or finding farms. And so over the course of the fading night people had come streaming in, come to see the King of Destruction, Flos.
Their King.
He sat in the center of it all, talking quietly. He just talked. He sat on a chair or stood, pausing as each person went to him. And he had a word for them all. Trey and Teres watched as he met an old woman who had seen him as a youth, or a man who had lost a son who’d joined Flos’ army, or an old man who’d fought with Flos on the battlefield.
They all knew him, had had their lives touched by him. And Flos knew them all. He knew every face, remembered people he’d only spoken to a decade ago. He looked at them all, and his eyes were filled with tears.
But he never wept. And as night turned into day and the sky began to lighten, Flos spoke.
“Long ago, I came to this very village. I rode through with an army and told you all to follow me. I told you I would overthrow every nation, every rule of law and every government. I asked you to break all bonds and follow me for a brighter future.”
All the voices in the room went silent. Flos looked from face to face.
“Ten years ago. No—more than that. When I was a boy, I called upon you to be my sword and shield. And you did. You sent your sons and daughters, and you picked up arms to follow me. You marched across nations, through rivers, from one end of the continent to the other.”
“And we will again!”
A man stood up. He was trembling.
“Ask it of us, your Majesty! Raise your banner and we will serve again!”
People cheered and shouted in agreement. But Flos raised his hand slightly and they were silent.
“You did once. How many came back from my endless wars? How many lie buried thousands of leagues from home?”
No one could answer that. Flos looked around the room and shook his head.
“So many were lost. Too many. And yet, each man, woman, and child died with that same dream in their eyes, that same fire in their heart. A brighter future. One worth fighting for. For that alone it was worth it.”
They nodded at that. Flos paused. His fist clenched.
“But then came the day when I faltered. I lost the will to continue. I stepped off my throne and put down my sword. I disbanded my armies, and left my vassals to scatter to the wind. I let all of you down, you that had journeyed with me so far.”
He looked at them, tears in his eyes.
“I failed you.”
Instantly there was a babble of dissenting voices. Flos raised his voice above them all.
“I failed you. All of you. I abandoned my duties as King. I slept! For ten years I slept and you all have suffered my neglect. I am not worthy to call myself your king.”
Again, they shouted in denial. But Flos kept shaking his head. He waited until they were all quiet again.
“And yet, I am your King. That fact will never change.”
He stood, and turned slowly around the room. Men and women stared at him, old warriors and mothers, farmers and shepherds. Widows and children.
His people.
“I am your King, by blood and by oath. I accepted your loyalty once, and no force in this world could break that bond between you and I. I am your King, and I will not run nor hide from my responsibilities any longer.”
They stirred. Flos stood taller. His voice grew louder.
“I have no right to ask it of you. No right at all. But ten long years have passed since I slumbered and the world has not changed. There is still little hope to cling to. People live and die in service to a faceless [Lord], struggle to eat and live, sleep in fear of monsters and bandits. This is not the way to live. There is a better life out there, beyond the horizon.”
He turned and Trey saw his eyes. They were burning. Flos stared from person to person, looking into their faces. They stared back, caught by his gaze.
“Come with me. Follow my back. Raise my banner one more time. One last time. This time, I shall not retreat. I shall not falter. I will go to the ends of the world and tear down every wall, every fortress of stone. You are not the villagers of Manimar, not the people of one single farm or villagers. You are mine. You are my people, and I ask you again. Join me. Your King has a dream. Will you follow me?”
For a while no one moved. And then a woman stood up.
“I will, my King.”
An old man was next. He smiled, tears in his eyes.
“We have waited for this day, your Majesty.”
“We are with you! Until the end!”
More people jumped to their feet. Young and old. They stood up, shouting and cheering. Trey looked around the room, and then realized he was on his feet. So was Teres. They gathered around Flos, reaching out to touch him.
Someone had a flag. It was old, a relic over a decade old, eaten away by time and rot. But when Flos touched it, the colors came to life. A black flag, stitched with gold around the edges. Trey stared up at it. There was something in the center of the flag.
It was a flame. A burning flame, woven out of gold and silver, white and purple, a flame that burned brightest in the dark. It flew above the wall as people cheered and called Flos’ name. He stared up at the banner and smiled.
The sun began to rise as, in the village of Manimar, people lit torches and gathered around their King. They had not forgotten their King. And he had never forgotten them.
Trey found himself standing with Teres. She was staring at Flos, head propped in her hands, dreamily. He sat with her.
They didn’t need to speak. They sat and watched Flos, at the center of the world, accepting people’s vows, talking with them. And Trey thought he understood how someone could follow him and keep faith with him after a decade. It was because when you listened to him, you could believe there was a better place just over that mountaintop. And you would fight for it. You could follow him for that dream.
Trey turned to look towards that horizon. His eyes found the lightening sky, and the hint of a sun in the distance. And past that the hills…
Trey frowned. He stood up and Teres turned. Something was coming. Flashes of light reflected off of armor, riders. Orthenon? Someone from Reim? Trey’s heart beat wildly. He had never seen that armor, nor the banners raised. There were two dozen riders, at least. And more—behind them Trey saw more moving shapes.
An army. Marching towards the village.
He turned to call the alarm. But someone had already seen the riders. They shouted. Flos turned. The villagers tried to close the gates, but there were too many people in the way. Trey heard screams, and the thunder of hoof beats. He saw the first rider race into the village, scattering people out of the way.
The man on horseback pulled his horse to a stop in front of Flos. The King didn’t move. He stared up at the armored man, wearing light chainmail armor the color of silver. He had a shield on his back and a sword at his side.
The man looked coldly down at Flos. The King stared up at him and smiled once.
“Venith Crusand. It has been a long time since I last saw your face.”
“King Flos Reimarch.”
There was no love in the man’s voice. He stared down at Flos as the other riders rode in through the gates. Flos nodded, looking around at the other riders without fear, but sadness in his eyes.
“I had heard you became lord of this village and these lands. Tell me, you who once rode with me. Do you come to fight by my side again, old friend?”
Venith shook his head. He stared down at Flos, and Trey saw the anger there. The anger and something else. He reached for his sword and drew it slowly. The other riders did the same.
“No. I have come for your head.”
4.02 K
“Flos of Reim. I have come for your head.”
The young man lying on the ground looked up. He stared in vague surprise at the other young man on horseback. His eyes fixed first on Venith’s set face and clenched jaw. Only then did he focus on the sword in Venith’s left hand.
He sat up and yawned, but didn’t reply to Venith’s statement. He scratched the back of his head and shook loose some of the dirt that had gotten trapped there. Of all the things Venith had expected, this wasn’t it.
He drew his horse closer, cursing a bit as his mare seemed more interested in Flos’ stallion, which was placidly eating a few whippy plants to the left. Venith glared down at the king of Reim, Flos. He didn’t seem like much to Venith. He was bigger than the young man on horseback, but Venith had beaten grown men far larger.
“Did you hear me? I said—”
“I heard you.”
Flos looked up at Venith, not intimidated the least by the sword the other man held. The young king had a sword, Venith could see. But he didn’t reach for it.
“Well?”
“I’m thinking.”
That was all the young man with bright red-gold hair said. He stared at Venith, frowning as if the young man were a puzzle, rather than an enemy.
That was too much for Venith’s pride. He lifted his sword.
“Have you any last words before I cut you apart?”
“I’m rather wondering why you didn’t do it earlier, actually.”