I stared at what remained of my father, or, at least, what should have been my father.

"Why is the king's head missing?" I wondered. My eyes fell on one of father's many personal doctors, freshly turned embalmer.

"I apologize, Prince! The destruction was so complete that to remove the sun-kissed spear required removing -well- h-his head."

The Chancellor of the state spoke up, "Surely you can recognize your father without the need for his face, my prince?"

I frowned and cast a grey eye at the man standing by the door. We had never gotten along. Although I have not known him well enough to dislike him directly, the fact he was close to my father has always led me to suspect him.

"I can," I answered.

I pulled back the blanket and brought his arms up. A few small scars stood out. He was the man I knew based on the claw marks of the hunting bird on his favored arm, the slight knick from arrows on his fingertips, and the little bite mark from a problematic horse, ignoring plantable evidence such as rings, bracelets, and implanted jewels. Hunting was a long-favored hobby of his.

The sun gave us life, and we worshipped it for that. Yet the priesthood in my father's reign took us from merely appreciating it to hungrily taking more life. Hunting was a hobby I could understand, yet I knew it was more to him: He stole life to increase his own.

Now he was dead, and by a hunter's weapon cast down by the sun no less.

"It's him," I confirmed." My father, the king, is dead."

I felt nothing from uttering the words. As a son, I supposed I should be sad and act mournful since he was the king, yet I could not bring myself to pretend to mourn for the life of me.

"That confirms it. You are now monarch of the Ronlin house, King Valspear." The Chancellor stepped forward and bowed to a knee while the doctors covered the corpse again." We must-"

I interrupted him. "I know what must be done. Send out all of the ministers and officials from the palace. Send them home to their families. Their service is fulfilled." I sharply turned and walked away, out the door.

"Fulfill- Surely you jest?!" The Chancellor gasped, chasing after me.

"Surely, you go, unless you wish to be the first sent home! The only reason I think to spare you and allow you to hold your position is that your talent outweighs your duplicity!"

"But my lord, if you send everyone out of your court, who will be left to run the kingdom?!" He cried.

"Let me worry about that. Go send my orders out."

After leaving him stunned and frantic behind me, I continued to my destination. It was perhaps a bit foolish to send everyone out because not everyone my father possessed was useless. Yet, to scrounge through them would take far too long for far too little gain when my time was limited. I had a better idea. If father surrounded himself with the corrupt, bought, and weak-willed, my chosen would be found amongst those he rejected.

My feet took me to the castle dungeon. Here, Kes' salvation lay dormant for having opposing opinions with King Kador. Now, this font of power only needed to be awakened from its slumber. I did not do this to smite my father, yet the thought did not slow my steps either.

The guards shared a puzzled look but did not think to stop me. In fact, they escorted me in out of concern.

At a desk just inside rose a higher-ranking guard. He saluted me and said, "My lord, I-I am sorry, I was not alerted you were coming."

"It is no matter," I waved away his concern.

He nodded briefly and smiled in thanks, yet his eyes still flickered between me and the floor, "If I may... is the news true? Is the king-"

"My father is dead," I confirmed. "I saw the body myself."

"I see." He gulped, and I allowed a moment for him to come to terms with it. Thankfully, it only took a moment for him to straighten himself tall and look at me with sharper eyes. "Then, my king, what business do you have in my charge?"

His cooperation proved helpful. "Your prisoners that were sent here by my father. I want you to select those who had been in service to the Ronlin family. Among them, choose those who faced no trial. I want you to bring them out among these so I may see them."

It took a moment for the command to register, but he nodded. "It will be done. We must go through many, so shall we bring them out into the courtyard?"

"The courtyard will do."

He was not wrong. The number of men my father cast into the dungeon was many. The sunlight caused them to falter, and they shielded their eyes. Ragged and torn cloth covered their bodies, and their ankles were bloodied, bruised, and naked. They had hair growing uncomely and hadn't bathed in a long time. Some had been there a short time, but a few needed aid from having been caged for decades. Once, these were men of honor, power, and prestige who could act as a solid foundation for the kingdom of Kes.

One by one, they were brought out until I turned away to hide my distress.

They numbered over a hundred.

Among them, I heard humming, and then someone said, "Oh-ho-ho! Why cry, my Prince? Did you really think a prison could hold me?"

"I know that voice," I mutter. Turning, I look into the face of my old teacher, Abhdan'Ronlin'Kes. Abhdan was an old man with a long white beard down to his feet as a curtain, so his feet periodically jutted out. Yet he never tripped over it, for he was very spry for his years. What his age was, no one knew, and he never told. He was somewhere between one hundred and an eternity.

"Abhdan, teacher!" I stepped down and rushed to his side to aid him, but he waved me off, chuckling. Seeing as I knew him, the guards did not step forward, so Abhdan left the crowd to sit on some stones.

In return for my fretting, he raised his stick and whacked me. "What did you think I had died?! Stupid! I have taught and outlived three kings, brat-spear! I told Kador I would outlive him, and he laughed. Now, who is laughing! Oh-ho-ho! He wanted my age; he did! But I told him I take my age with me! He can't have it!"

"Surely prison was not a comfort to you."

"Ah! But what is a prison but a home away from home? Dark, wet, bad food? Bah! I get that at home! My wife was a crueler warden than yours! The guards here are a bunch of softies."

Although he rejected the notion, Abhdan eyed me with sharper attention than he should have due to the baldness of his head and the weight of his beard. "We all have prisons, and you look like you have a prison of your own now, kid."

"I admit, I have yet to wear the crown, but-"

"That is not the prison I refer to." He said softly.

He was right. I felt my heart and mind heaving with the weight of what I saw the Aeterna do. It wouldn't be so heavy if others had seen it, but I'm the only witness to Kes, so I have to carry the burden alone.

I said, "I have a burden, and I need men to join me in my prison to bear its weight because I cannot do it alone."

He silently looked me in the eye for a moment, his gaze softening before he nodded. I stood up to make a brief speech to the gathering, but Abhdan grabbed me by the sleeve and pulled me back. "Sit your butt down, brat." He ordered.

The guards stepped forward to protest but stopped short and looked bewildered as Abhdan waved his stick at them. The guards looked between us, judged him non-threatening, and stepped back, sheathing their weapons.

"Brat-Spear," Abhdan sighed. "As much as I put into your head about taking the kingship seriously, I feel you have much to learn in taking it less so."

"But-" I stopped short as he whacked me on the head.

"Teaching moment!" He insisted. I rubbed my head. Flashbacks struck me of his lessons, and they usually involved him hitting me on the head. "Your head has gotten soft since you left the reach of my stick." Huffing, he continued, "You think others have endured politics and stresses of life and lived to be my age? Do you think I endured prison because it's easy? I have a secret, brat-spear. A secret to life."

"This isn't anything like the paint, is it?" I asked skeptically. I remembered the last time he said he had a secret to life, and it was a prank he did on me when I was a child, involving paint, string, three gold coins, and many pigeon feathers.

He smiled in mirth before shaking his head, "You are an adult now; I believe you can know the true secret." I turned to him and gave him my undivided attention for the reveal, to which he smiled, "Hum me a tune."

"E-excuse me?"

"Hum me something."

"I'm not going to hum."

"You can't or won't?"

"Both."

"So you can't think of anything nostalgic or a song that made you happy and upbeat that would amuse me?"

"No, and I'm not doing it for your amusement."

"Then do it for your own."

"Just tell me the secret already..."

"Not until you hum."

"Teacher!" I hiss.

"Hum!" He raises his stick threateningly with a mad twitch in his eye.

I looked between him and the stick he held threateningly over my head with his war face. Sighing, I thought back to better days. The Kes has never been one for songs, but in my time in Ire, there were many songs at feasts and gatherings. Most were sung by artists or crowds, but there was one sung by a dancing girl I remember at a late-night festivity. She was the furthest thing from what my father would have wanted for me. She was a redhead, had freckles, but was carefree.

Smiling in memory, I hummed a bit, just for a second.

"There." Abhdan nodded, and he smiled at me. "You've figured it out. Just hum, lad. Let a few good times in your heart when things get sour and keep it there to hum."

Abhdan leaned back, looked up, so the sun's rays hit his face, and hummed a bit with a gentle smile. For a moment, I take a moment, and I think back and hum more of the party song myself.

I see the bonfire in the darkness and the dancing crowd. The intoxicating drinks, the fire-kissed pork, the dancing girls, especially the one who caught my eye, the friends I made there, and the wheat sacrifice all made a memorable night.

"You can't sing to save your life," Abhdan commented. "Can't blame you, what with that head injury. You can't hear half of what comes out of your mouth."

I chuckled, "I better get started then and save your ears from bleeding."

I stood to my feet and brushed myself off. Abhdan also rose and stumbled towards the palace with a wave of his hand. Thankfully we had been to the side, so the crowd wouldn't hear the embarrassing display, though they could still see it. Some looked bewildered, but most knew Abhdan enough to think nothing of it.

I took a breath, "Men! I will keep this short. My father, the king, is dead. As of this moment, you are all free. Nothing I mention can honor your sacrifices, but I will see that your families are compensated. Yet... even as I say this, I must ask more. I need men to save this kingdom! A man calling himself Aeterna has the holy sun in his hand, an army of Ne at his back, and all of Dyson in his sight, whether we are Ire, Soran, Kes, or Cynn."

One among them stepped forward and asked, "My prince-no- my king, if this man makes war with Ire, how do you know he intends to do the same with us?"

"Can Ire not withstand him?" Another questioned.

"Quiet!" A guard shouts, but I raise a hand and rebuke him with a glance.

"It is a fair question," I reply. "Yet think amongst yourselves. Shall we underestimate the ambitions of a man who has the backing of the sun god, who has united the Ne tribes into his own fledgling nation and immediately turned it on the neighboring state of Ire? Who has not merely seized a small corner of it but has crushed Ire at every turn and takes more of it with each passing day? The states of Ire cannot fight him. Perhaps alone, I am afraid of how far his ambition will take him when he is done with them."

I took a breath and finished, "Men! Who is with me?"

"If what you say is so, then you are not alone in this fear. We are with you, King Valspear!" The men said, and many of them bowed to a knee and declared their allegiance. "May the sun shine evermore on the King!"

Despite knowing it was meant to be a blessing or prayer for me, I couldn't help but chuckle, thinking otherwise. "With whom stands now as the sun's prophet, let us hope not."

The men were all given clothes and were bathed and fed. Those who chose to follow me stayed; the rest were sent home with money from my father's coffers. I couldn't help but be disappointed in the men who chose to leave. More than half gone, too broken and tired to be of use or had lost faith in the royal family. Though they had made sacrifices worthy of honor and respect, I didn't know if there would be a kingdom left should those that have remained fail. How much better would we fare if not one had turned away? None could say, but nor would we turn back and change it. The fates were set, and history would decide the victor.

With my new court refreshed and ready to begin, I stood before the throne. My throne. The Chancellor of State stood by, clearly perturbed. General Fereren was present amidst the court, watching me in pride. Abhdan stood in the back, leaning against the wall and swaying his head to his own humming.

My right ear stung in memory of what transpired in this spot just yesterday. Though it may seem strange, I could see my father's ghost in that chair.

Gathering a deep breath, I walked through his ghost and sat on the throne of Kes.

"The court is too small for the work that must be done, so send out for worthy retainers. Mobilize the military," I order. "Gather our forces back from Cynn. Send messengers to the northern kingdom for support. Send a courier to the states of Ire and request permission to enter the borders with an army to aid them. Dispatch a messenger to Soran and see if they will also come to Ire's aid."

As if overhearing me and providing an answer, the sun screamed with a high-pitched sound that split our ears. I looked out the window and saw an enormous hand come from the sun and slam down into the world in the direction of Ire. The ground shook, and I fell from the chair onto my knees. The rest of my court also fell or stumbled.

The Aeterna had struck again.

"Do it now!" I barked.

------------ edited 9/18/2021