“Who was it?”
“It was I as a young boy. I was facing fears, worries and dread that I assumed had long been relegated to the past. It appears they were concerns that I had merely set aside but never forgot or came to terms with, until now.”
“Tame thy dread. Could the oracle have been referring to that which torments from within rather than around us?”
“I really cannot say. But I do feel as though a part of me that I did not even realize was missing became restored, and now I am filled with calm and certitude.”
“Marcus, do you think you can now confront the storm cloud?”
“Let us see.”
At that Marcus and Emilia made their way to the cave opening from where they entered, and Marcus stepped outside to face the roaring, thundering tempest that drove them into the cave and held them in abeyance.
A lightning bolt struck a few feet from where he stood, trying to force him back in. Marcus took a deep breath, stared at the crescent cloud and lovingly waved his right hand across it.
Immediately the cloud vanished and wisps of water gently, almost unnoticeably descended upon the site and entered the cavern where even the strong rains did not penetrate.
The vapors, as though seeking all that had life found their way unto Emilia and upon touching her person instantly evaporated.
The droplets were so small and far between that they could not accumulate on skin. But upon touching bare flesh, the sensation was that of a kiss; the experience of their contact was that of a thousand kisses.
Emilia moved to where Marcus stood and softly spoke.
“I have never felt such tranquility.”
“Neither have I,” replied Marcus, as the two of them gazed upon a clear blue sky that only a short while ago was masked by the menacing cloud.
Strolling further out they only now realized what a magnificent sight the valley below was: As far as the eye could see the uneven terrain was carpeted by various trees. The whispering brooks and running rivers circled the glade. The mountains base jostled upwards to the peak. The scent of moss, limestone and greenery filled the air.
It was breathtaking!
It felt as though they stood in the middle of Eden, yet this beauty still did not compare to the serenity that the wisps of rain made them feel.
Marcus and Emilia now understood how the Oracle of Ouy had remained a mystery to most, for it is to be sought not with ones’ eyes but with ones’ heart, and the yearning needed to be of such power and magnitude for the oracle to take notice, dispatch a herald so as to guide one to its presence. This was what Syton meant when he said that the fates would lead them.
Not too far from where they stood Titan appeared to have kept diligent watch at the cave opening awaiting their resurgence.
“It is clear to me now the manner by which my inherent power is to be used.”
“Indeed, it is one thing to have power, quite another to know specifically how the fates wish for it to be used,” replied Emilia, as the two of them walked towards Titan.
“Quite. And this power, this gift of mine can bring about peace and prosperity to harsh, mundane Aelon, ushering in a new age of royal rule.”
“Whatever do you mean by that?” asked Emilia in surprise.
“Emilia, I did not tell you. But I am a prince of Aelon, heir apparent actually, and now I can bring about an age of serenity, a golden age to my kingdom.”
This bit of information stunned and shocked Emilia. She stopped and planted herself where she stood to keep from stumbling, falling, and slapping Marcus’ face.
Marcus, who thought he had seen Emilia angry in the past, realized that she was merely annoyed and irritated compared to what he sensed from her now. Her face bore rage that though being held at bay was undeniably breaking through.
“Emilia I did not tell you because…well…you saw how I was when we first met and besides there was no need to do so.”
“No need to do so..! We spent moons together and there was never, ever a need, a compulsion for you to do so?”
Her words had the same impact as being run through by a sword without the presence of blood or the relief of dying. If ever Marcus felt that Emilia would kill him this was the moment, as he noted a throbbing pulse near the knuckles of her clenched fist which rested upon her weapons pommel.
Was she itching for her sword? he wondered, as he now looked at the sheath in which her blade rests.
“In all my life, I have never felt so betrayed and manipulated,” Emilia uttered her words slowly, as though mustering to hold on to her last strands of composure.
Marcus could feel his throat seizing and so before he lost the power of speech he said.
“Granted I did not reveal to you all of who I am but I never lied to you. Please understand my position. I am the heir apparent to the sorriest kingdom in the empire.
“All my life I had been reared to assume a position without ever being asked if I wanted to and as a consequence I have never really been viewed as a person, rather a royal cog and nothing more. I wanted to see if there was more to life and my existence than simply being a part meant to stay the course of century’s tradition…”
Marcus then dared take a step towards Emilia and cautiously placed his right hand on her sword arm, “I never meant to hurt you nor harm anyone. Often we spoke about free will and destiny. Traditionally kings and wizards, knights and lovers would follow their destiny without question. That being the case, by birth I was destined to be king yet my free will led to the discovery of my inherent magical power. Who is to say I am not meant and cannot be both wizard and king?”
To this, Emilia had no answer. As she contemplated the possibility she appeared to calm down, and so Marcus dared to continue.
“Emilia, I can be a renowned ruler, a wizard-king who will not be restricted to the confines of the throne room but can actually change the lot of my people by promoting peace and goodwill. Aelon deserves more than to be a trading post and the repository of nut products.”
“But Marcus!” Emilia said, “You are a magician, a sorcerer. Like me you are meant to roam the world and touch people’s lives. You with calm and peace, I with fiery passion to inspire and move them, the fates predestined that. Why do you think you were restless in your kingdom? How is it that we met and made it this far?”
“The fates. If I followed the fates I would not have left Aelon and turned out to be a miserable king. If you think about it I actually went against that which I was destined for and the rest is luck and circumstance. But my dear friend Emilia, I owe you so much, come with me to Aelon and see how I apply the wisdom and the gift you helped me acquire.”
At that Emilia ended her protest. Who is to say that the fates did not mean for Marcus to actually be a wizard-king?
Perhaps it was her hurt pride, the pride of someone who always had to work to earn what she had, and train to be where she was. Perhaps it was hurt at being outdone by Marcus, who seemingly just stumbled onto center stage and bestowed preferential status.
Then she realized she might be guilty of something worse than pride.
“I feel I must confess something, Marcus,” she said, countenance wilting to near lifelessness.
“What is the matter Emilia?” replied Marcus concerned.
“I think my impatience with you before was a matter of my pride. But with what you have revealed, I now fear that my feelings may be due to something rather shameful on my part. I am mortified but must concede it is possible that my disdain is now being brought about by envy,” her shame so potent she could not look at Marcus as she continued to speak.
“For I question how someone who has not worked hard enough and sacrificed so little, could receive so much and be at the cusp of achieving greatness.”
At that Marcus, who had revelled in the dream of becoming wizard-king, too felt ashamed and embarrassed.
“Heir-apparent” was something he’d been born into. Being wizard king a status he barely earned and gave nothing up for. I
t would be another blessing bestowed by the fates.
Now he wondered what kind of person he would have been if the fates had not endowed him with such advantages. Would he have even dared to venture on his journey? And right now, does it not feel as though he were back where he had started, except that now there was no optimism, only humiliation.
His countenance must have reflected this for as he glanced at Emilia, it was she who now looked worried and was struggling for something to say.
Finally she spoke: “Marcus…I was just recalling what I have come to accept as the nature of the fates, that, if something does not make sense it is usually attributed to them. I mean, being reasonable is well and good, but that is not always the right path. Sometimes it is in one’s willingness to be open to new possibilities that marvelous results come about. Well, this most certainly does leap beyond the senses. Therefore, who knows, perhaps it is your destiny to become a wizard-king.”
She then managed a friendly smile which Marcus was quick to reciprocate.
“What shall we do now?” he asked.
“Well, your highness, I think it is time for you to return to your kingdom.”
“Highness is the king’s title. I’m not quite there yet.”
“Oh, you have something worth more than any title. You are Marcus, someone who dared to face the greatest adversary one could ever have.”
“Who or what might that be?”
“Yourself.”
Consolation washed over Marcus as they began their walk down the mountain. Passing Titan, Emilia took hold of his reins and gently tugged, making him follow behind her.
Nothing more needed to be said as they retraced their path to familiar grounds from which they would take the fastest route back to the kingdom of Aelon, where Marcus’ journey began.
Chapter 12 The Rude Awakening
A week’s journey brought them within sight of the boundaries of Aelon.
Marcus ruminated at the events that occurred since he left this land, of how much time, effort and energy had been spent. Not to mention the amount of uncertainty and doubt that he personally had to conquer and now he was returning as a new man. Someone who had something to offer, a person who deserved the position he occupied. And, eventually, become the most renowned ruler of Aelon.
“So Prince Marcus, have you considered how you would dazzle and impress your citizens upon your return?” Emilia teased.
“Please Emilia it is not as if I conquered a war or something and stop ribbing me with the title, you saying it makes me so ill at ease,” Marcus looked sheepish.
“I know. That is why I use it, Your Majesty,” said Emilia bursting into a boisterous laugh.
A short while later, as they rode through a small field, they heard the laughter of people engaged in merriment.
Eventually Marcus caught sight of peasant-farmers, some of whom were tipsy while others were totally inebriated from drinking and revelry.
“You all seem to be of good cheer?” Marcus said loudly to them with a smile as they drew near.
“Indeed we are! And not being drunk suggests you are not from these parts,” replied one of the raggde, old, tipsy men who sauntered towards them chuckling.
“But I am from here, returning from a journey that took several moons.”
“Aye, that would explain it! But yer still in time to catch the last two-days of the week-long celebration of the kingdom.”
“A week-long celebration! What then is the occasion, my good man?”
“Why, King Artimus has turned over the throne to his nephew Prince…oh I should now say, the new King Philippy!”
At those words Marcus’ vision blurred.
He simultaneously felt himself become deaf and numb as a chill ran down his spine. For a moment he lost all sensation of the world around him, until a firm grip pressed upon his hand.
As he regained his focus he saw Emilia’s eyes staring into his. She had an admonishing look on her face, and as she released his hand, the slight pain it left made him realize how strongly she must have grasped him.
He nodded at her and Emilia tried to look nonchalant as she turned her gaze away.
As he dismounted Titan, Marcus noted the merry stupor of the three other farmers as they continued drinking oblivious to his presence only a short distance from them.
What he’d been told nearly made him pass out. With great effort he focused on this disheveled old farmer wobbling before him, who now was also eyeing him curiously.
Did he recall correctly? Did this man actually say that his uncle the king had turned over the throne to one of his cousins five days earlier? This bit of news had yet to sink in as reality for Marcus.
Still feeling numb Marcus gathered his wits about him and as calmly as he could, asked the farmer, “For whatever reason did King Artimus do that?”
The farmer (still in a drunken haze but his senses beginning to return) replied,
“Well, Prince Marcus the heir-apparent disappeared, probably abdicated without leaving word. It is said that he simply walked out of Aelon. That was several moons ago, then about two moons back, unrest began to brew and merchants don’t like that sort of thing. As such they began to move out of Aelon, and that started really serious problems that affected us people. I mean, the royals, there’s enough o’ them. But when there’s uncertainty, instability’s sure to follow. Trading slowed, wages went unpaid, people became irritable, soldiers were hard-pressed to handle problems with peace and order. All this because one witless royal left without word! So to settle the matter, the King appointed Philippy heir-apparent. And to ensure there wouldn’t be any problems should Marcus return, Artimus stepped down to avoid possible future unrest, and…oh my!”
The peasants’ eyes grew in shock, as he came upon the realization to whom he was speaking.
Marcus’ numbness gave way as new emotions asserted themselves: anger, rage, fury. And as each feeling took hold the surrounding skies went from blue to gray to black. The winds began to howl accompanied by thunder and bursts of lightning.
“My…my lord! I am sorry…I apologize…”
“Thank you, your words were most enlightening,” replied Marcus coldly.
Only then did the poor peasant look up, puzzled by the sudden change in the weather. He bowed before Marcus and stumbled away, holding on to his hat that threatened to fly off. He ran to catch his friends who had snapped out of their drunken haze and began to flee to the shelter of a barn some distance from where they were.
Emilia alighted Titan; the two stood facing each other.
“I shall flood him out of the castle…” Marcus was mumbling, almost talking to himself. “I shall demand that my birthright be restored! Otherwise…”
“Otherwise what Marcus?” retorted Emilia.
Marcus looked at her quizzically.
Emilia sighed. “Did anyone not ever teach you that all choices have consequences as well as rewards? You wanted to pursue your destiny, to find yourself, and well you did. The price for that was the loss of a kingdom. Now you want to use your gift, which was meant to bring about calm and peace to wage war and regain that which was lost as a consequence of your decision? Is this what you truly want Marcus?”
“I did not expect to lose the kingdom!” replied Marcus bitterly.
“Well you did. And now you plan to chuck away your destiny to massage your wounded pride.”
At that the fury in the sky instantaneously ceased.
Marcus had heard her, but the pain and anguish was still drawn deeply on his face. He turned and walked a few steps towards the direction of the castle, he could almost see the turrets of Aelon. Emilia, lost in her own thoughts, walked the opposite way.
It was not over, and she knew Marcus and his power were now completely one with each other. Dunsen had given her proof that he could summon a tempest and obliterate an entire city had he wanted, leaving only a vast pool of muck in his wake.
As much as he could heal, he could hurt, thought Emilia and this dis
quieted her. How could the fates have given such vast might to someone prone to temper, hubris, and pride – the very elements that since time immemorial have brought down and shattered great men?
Warriors, emperors and conquerors had been raised and felled by these wicked traits, but she cared not for those she could only recall by their names.
Sadly, she knew Marcus, and foresaw him to be on the same path as those rulers who became oppressors then tyrants and finally, butchers.
It is said that those whom the gods wish to destroy are first made great. Was this Marcus’ destiny? The fates can be so cruel she thought.
Finally Emilia turned to look at Marcus. He was not looking at her.
She faced him and said, “My power is fire. My gift is motivation, inspiration, and passion – all that I saw in you when we first met. You paid no mind to the gorge that lay between you and your aspiration, and as I recall you once stood all muddied in a ditch without pomp, circumstance, or power. Yet back then you looked more of a prince than you…” Emilia trailed off, cautious to choose her next words carefully.
She glanced at the horizon before once again facing Marcus and continued, “Free will Marcus. Thus far you have used yours well.”
Marcus looked at Emilia, somewhat bewildered.
She smiled and added, “There is more to you than being a prince, magician, or king. Even a wizard-king.”
“How do you know?”
“I have faith in you.”
At that she gestured to Marcus, and the two of them returned to Titan who stood at the ready. Upon mounting they proceeded on their journey towards the castle of Aelon. The sun was at their backs as it set, they could still reach the gates of the city before it was too deep in the night but neither of them seemed to have that intention.
Perhaps both of them thought: one last night out in the wilderness, one last night free from worry and concern, one last night of peace and quiet.
Chapter 13 Return to the Gates
When he last saw them, these gates of Aelon were closed and guarded by two sentries. Today, though there were still guards at their post, the entryway had been left wide open so people could come and go as they pleased. After all, it is not often that grand celebrations are held in the kingdom, most especially to commemorate the coronation of a new king.
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