Twisted is the crown

Lahle II

THE CROWD IN THE GRAND hall pool out of the arched doorway, headed towards the front doors of the palace. I wade through the cacophony, my eyes set on one room at the top of the hallway. Quillion is lost in the frenzy, but he has his guards to protect him. Right now, I need to sink my teeth into something.

I race up the steps and down the torch lit corridor, taking a left and stopping in front of Deyko’s chamber doors. When I try to open it, I realise its locked.

My fists hit the door as I scream. “Deyko! Deyko open this goddamn door before I break it down! Deyko!”

Inside, I hear the shuffle of footsteps and the sound of a window closing. After a few seconds of waiting, the locks on the door start to come loose. Deyko opens the door, and instantly my fist connects with his nose. It makes a cracking sound and he falls back, palms squeezing his now probably broken appendage.

“So you agreed to contest Quill’s kingship and instead of being there you hid here like a coward?” I step into the room, slamming the door behind me. “You have five seconds to explain before I hit you again.”

“I apologize, Lahle. Mother wouldn’t stop talking about it.”

“Is that an excuse?” I scream. I don’t know what hurts more, Deyko’s betrayal or his enraging stupidity. He steps back from me, falling onto his bed.

Deyko sighs. “Its not. Its not. I know the custom. Quill and I are meant to fight. I will let Quill win. I did this to shut her up.”

My anger slowly dissipates, but I still fold my arms, staring down at him. “So you’re doing this for Quill?”

“Yes.” Deyko groans. “Quill is like a brother to me. I don’t know what’s going through my mothers head. I sincerely have no idea why she’s doing this.”

“Isn’t it obvious?” I ask. “She wants her son to be on the throne. She wants to be the mother of the king. She wants power.”

Deyko closes his eyes, and I watch as his muscles tense. “If she’ll go to such lengths to get it...”

I walk towards the now shut window. “I didn’t expect this from her. Your mother didn’t seem like the person.”

“I know.” He says. “I just didn’t want to be the centre of attention there. I didn’t want to be stared at when my mother said I would contest the king. I want things to go back to the way they were.”

I sigh, flopping onto the bed beside him. “I know what you mean.”

The door opens and Doregan’s son walks into the room. He is tall, a few inches taller than Deyko. His eyes meet mine. “My mother said I should search for you.” He says. “She said you vanished after the assembly.”

“I was just talking to Deyko.” I say, standing up from his bed. “I came to speak to him after the whole...situation.”

Ahelo’s eyes narrow as he stares at Deyko. “Is he really contesting with King Quillion?”

“Unfortunately.” I say.

Ahelo’s eyes don’t leave Deyko’s as I leave the room. Soon after, he follows, closing the door behind him.

“Has he always been like this?” Ahelo asks.

“Deyko? Like how?”

“Yearning for the throne?”

“Deyko doesn’t yearn for anything.” My words are sharp. “His mother forces him. He plans to lose to Quillion tomorrow.”

“You believe him?”

“Why shouldn’t I?”

Ahelo grunts. “Lahle, I know you were just a princess with barely any responsibilities just yesterday.” He says. “And I know this is all new to you, but I will feed you this important piece of information. Rarely can people deny the power of a throne.”

“Deyko is not like that.” I say. “I’ve known him for too long.”

“Things are different now, princess.” He says. “Power is a dangerous game.”

I c**k my head at him. “Did you call me princess?”

He smiles. “Forgot your name for a second there. Its Lahle, right?”

I punch him in the shoulder, but he doesn’t even flinch. He pats me on the head, his smile even wider. “Take care, princess.”

“Take care, a*s—”

“Whoa,” He laughs, stepping back. “Watch your words.”

I raise an eyebrow at him as he saunters back down the hallway, laughing loudly on purpose. As he leaves, the air of fun that came with him goes as well, and I am left alone with my thoughts once more. Is Deyko telling the truth? Does he really plan to lose to Quillion?

I release a shuddery breath as I turn around and make my way to my chamber. Maybe everything will seem clearer after I’ve had a cup or two of tea.

WHEN WE WERE YOUNGER, AUNT Niera and mother were as close as sisters. She was basically our second mother—the stricter, fouler, mother, to be exact. We grieved for her and she grieved for us. Every day we laughed, every day—or at least every other week—she did too. That’s why seeing her contest Quill’s right to be king shocked me much more than it did everyone else. To everyone outside the palace walls, we were tied only by blood and not love. That couldn’t be more wrong.

After what feels like forever, Quill opens his room door. He has already changed out of his garb and into more casual clothes. I spy the crown on the desk behind him. For now, its still his.

“I have something to tell you.” I say, walking inside with haste. Quill closes the door behind him and folds his arms. “If its not more important than me heading to practice—”

“To fight?” I ask.

He sighs. “I’m going down to the fields. Doregan said one of her knights would be there to help me train.”

I step back. “Um-ok. This is as important.”

“Then start talking.”

“Deyko told me he plans to lose to you. He doesn’t want to fight.”

Quill’s face turns cold like stone. He steps forward. “Then why did he agree to Niera contesting?”

“Niera didn’t give him much of a choice.” I say. “She can be very hard headed. You know this, Quill.”

He licks his lips, but the anger on his face does not subside. “And you believe him?”

I am taken aback. “Of course I do! I know Deyko isn’t bad person—”

“He saw power and he took it. He knows he’s a better fighter than me. He knows he could stand up to his mother. He’s lying.”

I fight the urge to roll my eyes. “I know you’re angry, but you’ve known Deyko since the day you were born, Quill. This cant be how you feel.”

“Yes, but I also know aunt Niera. She is stubborn and hard headed, as you said. She wouldn’t have let Deyko agree half heartedly.”

“Quill—”

“No. You listen.” He huffs. “If Deyko was really going to let me win, he would have come to tell me now or even before we went to the assembly. He’s staying away.”

“Quill, this is silly.” As I say this, Ahelo’s words drift into my mind. Power is a dangerous game.

Quill continues. “He didn’t tell me because he you to tell me. I trust you more than him. Its a plot.”

“He isn’t like that!” I hesitate. “He wouldn’t have known I would—”

“You’re always doing things for me! You tell me everything!”

“Is that a bad thing?” I ask, shocked and angered. Everything he’s saying hurts me. We’ve lived together with Deyko since we were toddlers. How can he just ignore all that?

“Its not, but its just that you’re so predictable. So naive.”

“I’m naive?” my voice raises. “That day, I told you to practice one more damn time. You told me no. Severally. I knew more than you then, and I know more than you now.”

He steps back, hurt, and soon I realise the power of my words. The tension in the room reaches a boiling point.

“I’m sorry—”

“Just leave.” Quillion’s shoulders droop, and he saunters to his bedside. A few uncomfortable seconds pass before he continues. “Father wanted me on that throne.”

“So do I.” I say, moving closer to him. He flinches when I grab his arm softly. “I’m telling you this because I love you.”

“You are.” His tone is sharp and blunt. “Deyko’s doing it because he wants me to let my guard down. He wants to win.”

I sigh, swallowing my own spit and nodding. I don’t know what caused Quillion to be so closed off, so untrustworthy, but I know now is not the time to question it. He is obviously hurt, and I just crossed the line.

“I’m sorry.”

He grunts, grabbing his blade from his closet. I leave when he bends down to put on his leather boots. I run to my room, and when the door closes, I crumple to the ground, tears lining my cheeks.

I TRY TO TAKE MY mind off things, but nothing seems to work. In the past five hours I’ve tried drawing, singing, staring out the window and sleeping. It all ends the same way, with me on the bed, sulking and staring up at the roof. I close my eyes and a tear slips out. More than anything, I wish there was someone to guide us through this. I’m not ready for things to change. I’m not ready for this new life. Ahelo said yesterday I had no responsibilities.

Yesterday, my father was still alive. Yesterday, there was peace. Now its like we’re a kingdom on the edge of a blade. Without balance, we will fall. We are a nation divided. Some of the elders see Deyko as more fit to be king. Some believe in Quillion.

As much as I’m just stuck in the middle of everything, I still hear my name whispered by servants around the palace. While walking to the gardens, I heard them gossiping. “Her and the King had a quarrel. I’m sure she’s in support of Deyko! As most of us are!”

I had shot them a look and they quickly returned to their duties, but their words still follow me until now, pushing their way into my mind. In support of Deyko. As most of us are.

I bury my face in my hands. Hopefully, Deyko was telling the truth and actually plans to lose the fight. If he’s lying...I don’t know how I’ll react. I don’t know what I’ll do.

Outside, I can still imagine the two training for their battle tomorrow, sweating and musky. Quillion fighting to win and Deyko fighting—hopefully—to save face. To lose.

Another tear streams down my cheeks. I look up at the carved ceiling above me, and my voice rings in my head. If there’s anyone, anything, up there, please let

my brother win tomorrow. As much as I am not Aeoli, now I have no-one to look

to anymore. I am alone.

My door opens with a slam, and I turn, watching Doregan barrel into the room with haste. She holds a weathered parchment in her left hand.

“Doregan, what’s—”

“Hush, child!” she seethes, sitting beside me on the bed. She unwraps the parchments. Her voice is weathered. “I did some research on the battle your brother will fight in tomorrow.” She sighs. “It is as I feared.”

I sit up, placing my hands on hers. My pupils dart wildly. “What is it?”

“The battle is to the death.”

Everything rushes through me until I don’t know what to feel. For a second, my heart stops beating and I release a shuddery breath. No . No. This cannot be.

I stand, walking towards the window. My body shakes, and a guttural moan escapes my lips. My doorway to the ether crashes open, and energy seeps through my bones, shaking them like wilted pond w**d. The table I hold for support begins to shake beneath me, and a c***k like spider web’s run across the window glass.

“Princess Lahle,” Doregan stands, “I urge you to be calm!”

As she says, I try to close the doorway to no avail. I know I’m supposed to control my emotions, control the door, but with every try it only seems to open wider. Wild, beastly energy seeps into the air. The glass cup beneath me cracks, making a sound like breaking ice.

“Lahle, calm your emotions—”

“I’m trying!” I scream, grabbing my heart as the aching intensifies. The window continues to c***k as does the cup beneath me. I’m not even weaving the energy into magic. This has never happened to me before.

It feels like my skull is splitting apart.

I let out a loud scream and hear people run into the room. The energy continues flowing through me, exploding into the air untamed. Stilling my emotions only makes it worse. Another scream escapes my lips.

“Lahle!” It sounds like Deyko, but I cant be sure.

“Hit me!” I scream past the pain. “Hit me and stay away! I can’t control it!”

“But—”

“Do it!” I writhe. My bones rattle and my eyes bleed in a cacophony of sounds. Then, without warning, I feel something metallic slam against my head. I feel myself draining, and something breaking deep inside.

“Once...more...” I groan, the mirror before me bursting apart, much like myself.

Another cold slam against my head and I’m out cold.

WHEN I WAKE, ALL I hear is the sound of a crackling fire. The doorway to the ether closed with my collapse, as I planned. Deyko, Ahelo and Doregan are in the room, seated across different areas of the small living space.

I try to sit up, groaning. Pain sears in my back. “Where’s...Quillion?”

Doregan rushes over to me, pushing me down against a soft pillow. She draws a stool from the side of the room and places it beside me, sitting down. She rests her finger on my forehead.

“You need to rest, child.” Doregan says. “I fear your emotions got the best of you. Our doorways respond to emotion, Lahle. When we are in fear, they open to protect us. It is the way we are.”

I try to remember the pain, but it feels so far away, like a distant memory. Ahelo finishes patching up the broken window with a loose cloth and walks up to me. Deyko keeps his distance, and silently, I thank him for it.

“The pain...it had been building.” I say wearily. “Your words were the stones that broke my back.” The tears come back, but I wipe them before they get a chance to fall. “I’m scared.”

Doregan sighs, but doesn’t say anything. I look up at Deyko, and I feel my heart cracking once more. Its his life or Quillion’s. Does he know?

“Deyko—”

“I am aware, and when your brother returns from training, I will inform him.” He says, his gaze solemn. His voice breaks, but he tries not to show it. He pretends his impending doom does not rattle him. “I stick by my word.” “He’s still training?” I ask.

Ahelo nods. “We are two hours to first light. He wishes to train until then.”

My gaze turns to Deyko. His eyes are glassy with unshed tears, his skin glossy with sweat. The same way he sees through me, I see through him. I see his fear.

This time I cant stop the tears.

Doregan pulls me into her caring arms. There is no light anymore. Despite the scarlet flame burning at the end of the room, we are all subjected to the same darkness. I’ve known Deyko since childhood. Same with Quillion. I’ve lost too many people already. I’ve cried too much. We all have.

“It is well, Princess.” Doregan says, rubbing her wrinkled finger on my chin. “Did you mother ever teach you the song of Gaia?”

Despite my tears, I shake my head. “S—she did not.”

Ahelo’s lips turn up in a small smile, but the same cloudiness dots his eyes as he watches me. “When we die, we return to Gaia. Its song calls us home.”

Doregan continues when her son stops. I turn my head to watch her as she speaks. “Our dead are never truly gone, princess. Their essence lives on with Gaia. With Earth. With us. In every droplet of rain we see their tears. In every beam of sunshine their warmth. It is the belief of the Aeoli. There is no end. There is no beginning. Its all connected. A circle.”

Deyko’s eyes darken as he watches us, listening. “I’ve heard it from my father.” He says. I can tell he’s not fully here. He’s remembering. “He was a proud Aeoli. My mother accepted his beliefs as her own. He taught me the song. It was a beautiful one.”

Deyko walks towards us, sitting at the edge of the bed. He takes a pause before he continues. “The song was the last thing he sang. He told me to grab a stool and listen. By the time I had gotten one, he was already gone.”

Deyko looks up at the sky. “I don’t know what I believe.” His lips tremble as he tries to smile. “By this time tomorrow I’ll have found out.”

I try to sit once again but Doregan pushes me down. My body feels like its wilting, decaying, crying out for help. My heart wrenches with every beat.

“Teach it to me.”

“But you are Daegon—”

“Just, please.” I mutter, my words slurring. I see Doregan sigh, l*****g her lips. She turns to her son. “Shall we begin?”

She starts. Its in a language I don’t understand, but by the way it flows from her I can only think its a modified version of Gaian. A water tongue. The song flows through her and Ahelo as they sing. Even without proper understanding, their voices carry memories.

In them I see the beaches of Oryon, the waves lapping my toes. I hear the howling of wind off the cliffs of Vahaltmir. In every droplet of rain I see starlight, and in every beam of sun a particle dances. Its a melody like I’ve never heard before. I see and hear everything.

Everything.

The rihngrass forests, lush and tall. The enclose of mammoth trees. The sound of laughter, of joy. Within that joy, I sense fear. A direwolf hunts its prey. A serpentine slithers through the forest. A clash of blades, and a howling scream. A flower blooms. A butterfly spreads its wings. Two sisters fight at sundown. A Fikawa tramples on bones. A tank of Pawdwa fish killed by an explosion.

I grab the bedsheets underneath me when Doregan and Ahelo stop singing. The visions leave, the only thing remaining of them being the faint smell of seaweed on my nose. I turn to Doregan.

“What—what was that?” I ask, breathing heavily.

Doregan sighs, chuckling. “There are some things even a crone old as I cannot understand.”

She stands. “Now, get rest. I will make sure to wake you up before the fight. Unless—”

“No. Wake me.” I say, and she nods. “As you wish, princess.”

She and Ahelo bow and leave, but before Deyko can leave, I stop him. This may be the last time I see him.

Deyko turns to me. His eyes shine with tears.

“Thank you.” My voice wavers. “I love you so much.”

His lower lip trembles. “And I you, Lahle.”

Without saying another word, he turns and leaves the room. Left alone, my emotions explode. I close my eyes, trying to sway my sadness. So this is it. After twenty years of mischief, joking around and bonding out magic, it ends like this. I look up at the ceiling, fighting to hide the pain. “If there are any gods up there, please keep both my brother and Deyko safe.”

My door opens and Aaliyah scampers into the room. The little Tyurda Fikawa climbs onto the bed and crawls into my arms, resting her head on my shoulder. She mews, stretching her limbs and swinging her tail slightly. Her red-brown scales are only amplified by the scarlet flame.

She mews again, and I pet her bald scalp. At least one thing has managed to stay the same.