A King, part two
Favian, Maileith and the girl who sealed his fate
In A King, part one we met Maya’s old friend who tells us his story about what he remembers before the fire. Today in the Great Fire, we learn more about Favian’s devious plot to secure the throne.
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A King
Part two
Tell me about that night.
Why?
I’m trying to make it right. Tell me what you remember.
For a while, there was nothing. I went back to Thorne with a few of Favian’s men to support us while I transitioned into my role. Our funerals go for three weeks of mourning and it’s twice that for a King. I noticed over that time more of Favian’s men came to Thorne to offer aid.
Soon after when I looked out onto the city all I saw was the red of Teron. It was brighter than I remember as a child. So many of those uniforms were new. I remember wondering who was stationed in Teron if so many of them were in Thorne but who was I to question someone’s help. And they were helping.
We rebuilt some parts of Thorne that had grown old and they made training grounds so that we wouldn’t have to send our soldiers out into the mountains. Thorne was becoming what I remember my grandfather hoping it would be. Self-sufficient. A Kingdom hiding in the mountains, causing no trouble but ready to defend ourselves should that time ever come.
It had always seemed too big to grasp as an idea but there it was, happening before me. I let it happen because I believed it was my idea. Which of course it wasn’t. I remember the term Favian used: assimilation. The design was all curves. Everything in Teron is curved, even your bloody streets are rings around a centre square. In Thorne we build in straight lines. It lasts longer.
When did you know?
When I was summoned back to Teron. My family and I were escorted by two groups of Teron soldiers, when we passed under the arches there were no signs of the Kai or their camps.
Though I remember the distinct smell of death hanging in the air. Our usual route had been caved in so that it no longer ended outside by the gates; it just stopped with a blue door stuck in the stone.
We were never left alone. We were escorted to our rooms, then there were guards stationed outside our rooms. We were escorted to dinner, then watched while we ate.
We never met Favian or saw anyone else but there was never a moment of peace. I wanted to show my daughter the gardens, the ones where we used to play but we were forbidden.
How long between those visits?
Half a year? Maybe less. It’s hard to know.
What were you summoned for?
I wasn’t told. I was summoned to the throne room, alone. I should never have left my family, but I don’t think I had a choice. When I arrived I found that there was nearly someone there from every kingdom, except Arundel.
Even Lirahndür?
Yes, they were there. You didn’t feel it? The cold chill stretching through the air?
I had hoped I was wrong.
You weren’t. There were seven of us and the squire.
Thrat.
And of course, the King. He told us some story about bringing the nine kingdoms together but that - Thrat, you called him? He always had one eye on the door watching, like he was waiting for what was coming next. The thing that none of us could predict.
Did anyone know why they were there?
No, something had shifted. We were no longer leaders, we were servants. There was something that changed. Everyone seemed confused at the summons and we all waited for him to tell us why we were there. But there was that distance between us. We were no longer equal. It was us and him.
He spoke about safeguarding Teron and protecting all of Eremos. That we were stronger together than we were apart but that someone had to step up. He said how sad he was at your death and how it had made him look at life differently. He wanted to protect his life for the sake of his people, and for us.
He said that he had found a way to discover his fate, so he could alter it. He told us about it so we would know that he would never meet his end.
He told you his fate?
Not him, a child.
Orel.
She would have been no older than ten. Favian held her hand as he guided her inside. She looked so small in the giant hall, her feet barely made a sound against the stone.
No one seemed to look directly at her, as if she were no more important than if Favian were carrying a letter.
But I did. I saw that she was nervous and frightened. Her little hands were shaking and she looked at us as if she was trying to find us, as if she wasn’t really sure we were there.
Which was when I saw that her eyes were black. There were no whites, no colour. Just these deep empty holes of black that tried desperately to see.
I can’t shake that image from my head, her eyes, the way Favian led her into the hall. It’s the same way I walked with my daughter and I can’t even remember her name.
What did she say?
First tell me her name. I can’t remember either of them, not hers not my wife’s. I’ll forgive you for everything else if you tell me their names. I can’t remember. After all these years and with these shreds of the past coming back none of them tell me about them. I remember the face of someone else’s child but not my own daughter.
I don’t know what my last words were to them, but I remember how that child looked at Favian and asked if she had done okay. And how he just dropped her hand and left her there all alone among strangers. Your curse won’t let me remember more.
Please, tell me you know.
I never met them. I didn’t even know you were wed.
It wasn’t arranged. I can’t remember if we even had it recognised. But she was kind and we loved each other, which was more than most could say. He killed them both. I remember that.
When I refused to cooperate, when I refused to align with his rule, he had them killed. From the very beginning I knew what it all was, the summons, the entrance. It was all a spectacle. My wife had a word for it, to lie with such force.
Maileith.
Yes. To create a lie that is so grand and detailed that you almost have no choice but to believe it. That’s what Favian was doing. But he had asked for my trust, then for my kingdom and I told him: no.
Go back to Orel, what did she say?
She sang a song about how Favian was going to die. In that lost language, the truth-tongue.
What did she say? How is it going to happen?
I couldn’t understand it but she did translate it later.
How does he die?
By the sword of the one with hair as golden as the sun and eyes as bright and clear as water.
What happened next?
He killed my wife. He killed my daughter.
No, after the prophecy, what happened? What did she say?
I don’t remember.
Did she say a name?
Why? Do you have a second set of eyes I should know about? It’s not you. It’s not me. Be done with it. I don’t even know if that child survived.
We did.
If that’s what you call it.
Rodyn, I need a name.
Don’t we all. I don’t know the name. If she spoke it, I either didn’t hear or cannot remember. He probably used that child to change it anyway, so it doesn’t matter.
He can’t. The name of the one in that prophecy is now the only one who can kill the King. I need that name.
I don’t know. You know, he sent those soldiers to Thorne before asking my allegiance. Your soldiers butchered my people and then your curse made the world forget. He didn’t care if I aligned with him or not. We were used to set an example by a King who you let reign.
I didn’t know.
I don’t care. I can’t call myself a King without a kingdom to serve.
I want my throne back just as much as you.
Then earn it.
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