Nothing really hit me for this prompt other than “fantasy.” Not sure why, but it’s where I went.
Oath
King Olen’s hand felt alive though he was dead. Still warm. Soft with small scars where parchment had cut him over the years. Ringless, because the King despised jewelry.
Lyran almost kissed the hand out of habit. His mouth watered, and nausea stirred in his guts. He tossed the hand onto the bedsheet.
A knock at the door.
“Gods, they’re quick.”
Lyran stood, then sat, then knelt. He had to look convincing. Master Aur opened the door. Kneeling it would be.
“Does our King still draw breath?”
Lyran feigned a sob and cleared his throat. “I fear he does not, Master Aur.”
Master Aur’s robes grated on the flagstones as he scuffled to the bedside. He picked up the King’s discarded hand and pressed it to his forehead. “My King, my Lord, my Savior. Take your rest. Take your leave. The Gray Fens await you, reeds parted, waters tepid. These old bones will join you soon, and I relish the moment I can serve at your court again.”
Lyran’s knees ached on the cold stone floor. “And I, Father.”
“My Prince.” Master Aur ran his tongue over his teeth behind closed lips. “Ah, forgive me. My Lord. For there can be only one, and only one we have in this chamber.” He looked like something was caught in his throat.
“As the gods will,” Lyran said.
“As the gods will.”
Master Aur stood. “Your court . . . awaits.” He lifted the royal transference gown for Lyran.
Lyran stepped into it. It fell stiff on his shoulders. Sleeves cinched around his wrists.
Master Aur stepped in front of him. “One. More. Thing.” And he pulled a long silken scarf from his sleeve like a market trickster. “May I?”
How many steps remained in this silly ritual? Lyran obliged. He smelled the old man’s funk as the scarf became a blindfold.
“Blood is blind,” Master Aur said.
“Blood is blind,” Lyran repeated.
“Blood is true.”
Blood is true.”
Master Aur turned Lyran by the shoulders. “Blood does bind.”
“Blood does bind.”
Lyran waited for something else to repeat but nothing came.
Master Aur guided Lyran out of the King’s chamber. Torches crackled. A gust of wind soughed through the hall. Though he couldn’t see it, the path before him was long. He had walked this hall daily for a fortnight, sitting beside his father, listening to his wishes. Listening to what Lyran should do and how he should do it. An instruction manual for an unworthy son.
Lyran bit the inside of his cheek but did not draw blood.
Lyran let himself be led. By the sound of it, there was only Master Aur trailing behind. The three customary house guards weren’t present.
“Master Aur?” Lyran asked.
“Yes, my Lord?”
“Where is my retinue?”
“Pardon, my Lord?”
“‘He shall be ushered to the ever throne by armor and sword of thrice.’”
“My Lord?”
Lyran bit down and drew blood this time. “The infernal rules of ascension I was forced to memorize as a child. Drawn up by men even older than you. Why do I even have to remind you of such—”
Lyran’s voice caught in his throat. Then the pain bloomed. Blood flowed. He stuttered, eyes seeing nothing but muted light through fine threads.
“Those laws changed long ago, my Lord,” Master Aur said into his ear. He twisted the blade. “If you’d have attended the tribunals with your father, as you should have, you would know this. Gods, just once within the last ten years, and you would have known this.”
Lyran went to reach for his blindfold but couldn’t move his arms.
“And if you would have attended my lessons,” Master Aur said. “The ones your father had as a boy, you would have known the curse you put upon yourself by uttering those words. To exchange your soul for mine. Your blood for mine.”
Lyran felt suction on his neck. Wet lips slurped. His bones ached. His skin withered. Then even the torchlight was snuffed. He felt stone on his back.
Then, in his ear, “I vowed to your father I would see his vision through beyond the grave. I have taken the burden you never wanted. So take comfort in that you will never have to shoulder it.”
Lyran’s blindfold was stripped away. Through his atrophied eyes screened with fog, he saw a young man smile, then nothing at all.
Leave a Reply