It was talks only the two youngest children of Bastiannius Priam and grandchildren of the sexual deviant Amilie Santos, could understand and love.
****
On one special time, the youngest Priam Santos siblings came into the bedroom under the covers, talking about someone in the court, an old strator who was into little boys. Imogen thought it was crazy, but Cheron was intrigued. He would come up with many stories of the perverted and not break a sweat.
According to him, they had seen worse from their own adopted father. They had seen murder and death all over Crystal Metropolis. Throughout the years, it had only made Cheron interested in the inner dwellings of the Santos vault of secrets.
Before they could go into their sex session, Cesario, one of the young Democrat Guards of King Timon, knocked on the door and interrupted them. Imogen jumped out of the bed immediately and hid behind a special wall. Then, Cesario comes in with new full Democrat Guard attire: gold shirt and pants with black armor.
“Lord Cheron,” he said. “The king needs to see you.”
Cesario looked around to see was there someone else in the room. Cheron snapped his fingers to put the attention back to him.
“What for?” Cheron asked.
“I don’t know. He just wants to see you.”
“Where is he?”
“In the bathhouse.”
Cheron went to his closet to put on some more clothes. He undressed and redressed right in front of Cesario. Something in his eyes told him that Cesario liked it and he was right. In the absence of Touchstone, Cesario had taken Touchstone’s position reluctantly.
Once Cheron was dressed, he followed Cesario to the bathhouse.
Cheron was shocked when he saw it. They were women and soldiers everywhere.
This had become the new thing for the past few years. With no more wars, it had become about sexual expression.
Timon had made a change as well. Cheron could see him laugh more, but one thing that still remained was his addiction to wine and harder drugs. Still, his court feared him. Despite the age and internal makeover, Timon carried the persona of a tyrant, but there was no more carnage since his time with Alejandro Santos.
As for the remaining blood child of Nero Santos, Alejandro died three years ago and forgotten, just the way that Alejandro wanted. After so many years of bloodshed trying to take the title and with no more contenders, Timon became officially the patriarch of the Santos clan.
Even though no one else remembered him, Timon could never forget Alejandro, especially the last words he had for the king. Timon was in the same boat as Alejandro with his court looking at him and anticipating the day death slashed his neck.
Timon stared as Cheron approached. Timon was in the pool with his arms around two women as they were kissing his wrinkled cheeks. All Cheron could see, or all he wanted to see, was the man he saw years ago when he was majestic. All that was left was someone bored with his role as a king.
“What can I do for you, my lord?” Cheron asked.
Timon turned to see his adopted son. “My boy! So glad you can join us,” he said in his hoarse voice. He got out of the pool naked and hugged him. The wetness went to an unflinching Cheron.
“Do you know that my son can dance?” Timon asked everyone that was in the bathhouse. “Show them some steps, Cheron.”
“I don’t have on my dancing shoes, my lord,” Cheron said politely.
“Do I care? You don’t need special shoes not to dance.” Then, he came with a scream. “NOW DANCE!”
From where he was, Cheron in irregular shoes started dancing. Timon commented and made jokes that got the whole court chuckling. This was not anything new to Cheron, who was known for being the amusement of the king. It proved beneficial to Cheron. As long as he kept the front, he was no threat to the king or anyone else. Inside, he was hurt and buried it as deep as it could go because he knew that under Timon Santos, life could easily be taken away in a manner of seconds.
Cheron danced on for several minutes. Then, out of nowhere, Timon took a bottle in the area and threw it into the water, where it almost hit two women in the head. Timon made no apology. He only gave out a strange remark. Cheron stopped dancing and went to Timon.
“Is something wrong?” he asked.
Timon touched Cheron’s shoulder. “I’m tired,” he said. "I’m tired of it all.”
Then, Timon left the bathhouse, but the fun continued without him. Cheron followed Timon like a puppy dog. They went out into the hallways and watched others in the court going by. Cheron was able to see the view of the skies from the many windows in the palace.
Lurking around was Timon’s bodyguard, Cesario. Cheron could see him, but Timon chose to ignore. Cesario was once a part of the Democrat Guard and had taken Touchstone’s place as a right-hand man after Touchstone’s retirement. He was not as bloodthirsty as Touchstone, but was just as cunning.
“One day, Crystal Metropolis will burn,” Timon said out loud to Cheron. “My mother supposedly predicted it. None of these people know it, but it will happen soon.”
“What are you talking about, my lord?” Cheron said. “Crystal Metropolis is the light. It’s the light of the entire ATM. Without it, where will the galaxy be?"
Timon laughed viciously. “You really think so? Well, a long time ago, I had that same belief. That died with my ancestors. My death with end the good days of this planet. Just wait and see. No one in this planet would know what to do without me.”
“You’ll live on as a god just like my grandfather,” Cheron said.
Timon put out his arm to stop Cheron. He saw that the youthful Cheron had become a man. He was in his twenties and with much knowledge about things in Crystal Metropolis than Timon even knew.
“Do you love Crystal Metropolis, Cheron?” the king asked.
“With all my heart,” Cheron answered. “And more.”
“Will you be willing to die for it if it comes to that?”
“No matter what.”
Timon smiled. “Spoken like a true Santos.” He strolled forward, leaving Cheron to contemplate. Cesario comes to his other shoulder.
“What’s going on with the king?” he asked Cheron.
“I don’t know,” Cheron replied. “He’s been feeling that way a lot lately. All I know is if this doesn’t improve, the planet’s in for a world of hurt.”
“Maybe it’s time for a change,” Cheron said.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean if Timon’s feeling this way, then like you said...There’s no telling what’s going to happen to this place.”
Cheron walked quickly away from Cesario, telling him that he had to go to his quarters.
In other words, he had to go to the body of his sister Imogen.
When he got back to their secret bedroom, they had a good talk for the rest of the night about Timon and his state.
“What are you going to do?” Imogen asked.
“I have to make a move, sister. I may never get another chance like this. It’s like Cesario said. The king’s not feeling well, so there's no telling what’s going to happen.”
“Whatever you do, you better be careful while you do it. One misstep and it’s all over.”
“Don’t worry! Whatever action we take, it’ll be quick and sweet. I'll take care of Crystal Metropolis’s problem and restore our family’s honor. It’ll be the end of Timon Boardwalk Santos, and a new beginning for the both of us.”
Imogen went to her older brother and kissed his cheek. “I love you, brother.”
“I love you more, my dear sister,” Cheron said, and returned the kiss with one of his own.
****
Timon had but one ally still living and breathing.
Prime Strator Belarius.
Lately, however, Belarius had been under the weather from an illness he caught a year ago that had not been dealt with thoroughly. He stepped down from his post and spent the rest of his time bedridden, being attended on by the best of Timon’s m
aids and nurses. Sometimes, Timon would be there himself to give him some encouragement. But for the past few days, Timon needed him for more than that.
“I’m losing faith,” he said to him by his bedside.
“What do you mean?” Belarius asked.
“How long have I been ruling Crystal Metropolis?”
“Twenty years,” Belarius answered. “Twenty glorious years.”
“You call them glorious?”
“You live on one of the most lavish planets in the galaxy. Every day here, good or bad, is glorious.”
“At least someone thinks so. Because right now, I don’t see it.”
“You’re becoming an old man. You’re realizing like I am that soon, you’re going to die. Soon, the doubts will be erased and things will be seen clearly like never before.”
“You’re talking crazy, Belarius.”
Timon walked around the room.
Belarius responded, “You and I both known it’s going to happen. The question is when and how. For me, it might be this sickness. For you…I don’t know. Tell me something. Have you found a successor yet?”
Timon shook at the question. Memories started appearing. If his son Dromio were still alive, he would have become king. He had no trust in Ichiamo taking the role of leading a planet.
In the end, there was only one choice he had.
He told Belarius about his thoughts. Then he said, “I’m going to make the decree that Cheron become the new king upon my death.”
Belarius shook. Cheron Priam Santos, the son of Bastiannius Priam, was still in the world, still moving around, and worse, still in the king’s favor.
“Why him of all people?” Belarius asked.
“I owe it to his father,” Timon said. “I owe it to Alejandro.”
“You don’t owe him anything,” Belarius stressed. “You don’t owe anybody. Ichiamo’s a better choice than him.”
“Crystal Metropolis needs to be at peace with itself. I nearly destroyed it. Someone has to bring the happiness back to it.”
“And you think that little troublemaker’s the one that could do it?”
Timon went to his old friend and massaged his shoulders. “Why do you hate the boy so much? It isn’t like you did anything to him.”
Belarius knew the story, but telling Timon at this point could mean the end for him if he ended up beating the illness. As much as he wanted to tell him, Belarius kept it to himself.
“All I’m saying is that I don’t trust him,” he said. “Let’s not forget who his father was. The same man that killed your son.”
“He’s gone. They’re all gone. What’s the use in bringing it up now?”
Belarius calmed himself. “I guess you’re right. It doesn’t matter. It’s your decision.”
“I hope that when you beat this illness, you can help him. Teach him how to rule efficiently so the Santos name can live on. It would be what my mother wanted.”
Belarius thought that this was wrong.
His mother would not have wanted this.
Before he could voice his opinion again, Timon walked out of his room and back to his depressive state.
****
After his meeting with the former Prime Strator, Timon stayed in his room alone for days on end.
Then, the worse happened. While he was eating some strange fruit, he fainted. His doctor, the elderly Claudius Fenton, told his court that the king could have been poisoned. Everyone in the court started pointing the fingers at each other. Cesario was there by his side. He ordered the Democrat Guards to detain everyone in the palace for questioning while the king recuperated.
Cheron received the news and went to speak to Cesario. They talked privately in his bedroom. Unknown to Cesario, Imogen Santos watched from the eyes of a painting of Queen Luciana Santos on the wall.
“What’s the king’s condition?” Cheron whispered.
“So far, it’s not good,” Cesario answered. “But his body’s fighting it.”
“This is our chance, Cesario. Will you give me access to the room?”
“What are you planning to do?”
“Talk. I have some things to say to him.”
“As long as you give me a better post when you’re done, I don’t care what you do.”
“Consider it done.”
Cesario left his room. Cheron went to the painting. He could see the eyes of his sister and chuckled at the sight.
“This is a better look for you,” he said.
“You can’t joke about this,” Imogen said from behind the painting.
Cheron went closer. “It’s coming, dear sister. In just a manner of minutes.”
****
The next day, Cheron went into Timon’s room as Cesario stood by the door watching out for anything suspicious. The room was quiet. Timon breathed bizarrely, even for Cheron’s ears.
The prince went closer to his ear. "Hello, my lord! Are you okay in there?” He smiled, followed by a chuckle. “This is something, isn’t it? You being weak like this? Never thought this day would come. You were so careful. Well, where are your friends now? Where are they when you need them?”
Timon tried to move his arms. He could hear Cheron without even looking at him.
“You ordered my father dead,” he said. “I’ve never forgotten about that. I put up with you for years and years, waiting for the chance when I can get you back. I tried burning down your palace and even killed your beloved Touchstone, but none of that was enough because it was your blood I lusted for. It was you I wished to kill. Patiently, I have waited and now, there’s nothing stopping me from ringing your damn neck.”
Timon tried to say something. Cheron put his ear closer to his mouth.
“I’m…sorry,” he whispered.
Cheron stared at him, but his hands reached for the pillow Timon rested his head against.
“Too late for apologies,” he whispered into his mouth. He gave him a small kiss on the lips. Suddenly, without warning, he took the pillow from his head and put it over the king’s face gracefully. Timon tried his best to break free, but he could not move his arms well enough to reach his face. The toxin in his body from the fruit he ate was working, and Cheron put as much pressure on his face as he could. Cheron kept at it until he could hear nothing more coming out from his mouth.
When he took the pillow away, Cheron could see Timon’s mouth wide open and his grotesque face. Cheron smiled at his victory. He did what he set out to do. He had gotten his revenge.
Cesario came from the door and went to the king. He checked his neck and his arms. It was conclusive. He nodded to Cheron. Then, Cheron saw the Starstriker ring on Timon’s finger and took it off of him. He slid it down his finger and put his face to it. The ring was old, but still shined the starry glow.
“The king’s dead,” Cesario said. “Now what?”
“There’s one more person that has to pay for his crimes,” Cheron said.
“Who?”
“Come with me.”
Cesario followed Cheron down some halls. Then, Cheron rushed into the room of Prime Strator Belarius. He walked cautiously to his bed. Belarius was sleeping soundly. Then, with a thump on the bed, he awakened to the view of Cheron grinning sinisterly.
“What’s this all about?” he asked.
“You don’t know?” Cheron said. “After all this time, you don’t know?”
Belarius saw that Cesario was with him. “What’s he doing here? Where’s the king?”
“The king? Well… the king can’t talk right now. In fact, he’ll never talk again thanks to me.”
Belarius convulsed from this news.
“What…what…?”
“What did I do?” Cheron finished. “I sent him to the underworld. That’s exactly where you’re going for betraying my father. Does the name Bastiannius Priam ring a bell? The man you used to kill the king, but made him suffer while you got fat off of his blood.”
Belarius tried to get up, but before he could, Cesario to
ok his sword and slit his throat. Blood drained into the sheets and sank into the bed itself. Cheron pushed his fist into a dying Belarius’ face, showing the Starstriker ring.
INIQUITOUS DOMINION: The Galactic Classic Page 9