Soul of Magic (Soul of Magic Book 1)

SEVEN

Richard and Nicolas did not have a typical father-son relationship; in fact, they barely had a relationship at all. Nicolas was always busy so being King and Richard always out of the Kingdom for both men to develop one. In spite of that however, Richard felt as if a hot dagger had been used to carve away a large chunk of his heart as he watched his very alive father lying stone-dead on a slab just right in front of the pulpit. A memory of one of the times that he and his father had spent together flashed through the prince’s mind at that moment and he smiled; it was that of his first sword lesson when he clocked thirteen.

"Son, you must always keep in mind two very important things if you want to stay alive and be victorious in a fight," Nicolas had said as he handed Richard a practice sword. "First, your weapon is not an object. It is an extension of your body, a part of your whole being. It will only be as powerful as you let it to be." Richard nodded in understanding of the words as he considered them, waiting patiently for the second point. But it never came.

"Father, you said there are two things I must remember to be great," he said when he couldn't take it anymore, the king nodding affirmative. "What's the second one?"

Nicolas looked up, seemed to think about it for a while, and then he just shrugged, causing Richard confusion. He began to wonder that perhaps his father wasn’t as sure of the points as he made it out to be earlier.

Just then, Nicolas suddenly unsheathed a real sword from his scabbard and swung at Richard. It was only by sheer luck that the latter reacted just in time and jumped out of range as the sword came slashing by. Nicolas didn't stop there as he went in for a second strike, forcing Richard to parry with the practice sword which only broke under the impact. Panting with fear, Richard put some distance between him and his father, holding the broken sword shakily in front of him even as it was obvious that it would be totally useless against his opponent.

But just as suddenly as before, Nicolas sheathed his sword again and began to laugh. "You should see your face, Richard. It's priceless," he said, still laughing. "But I think you finally got the second lesson."

However, Richard wasn't sharing the amusement with his father, or the lesson either, and he crossed his hands in anger and glared with great displeasure at the older man. It was only out of the respect that he didn't walk away there and then.

Nicolas seemed to realize the look eventually and he finally provided an explanation with a fatherly smile. "The second point, Richard, is that the only person you can truly rely on is yourself," he said, bringing the boy in for a hug. "No matter what I teach you, if you cannot rely on yourself, you will fail, and very quickly too." They both practiced together afterwards, Nicolas giving Richard more points as the lesson progressed.

But it wasn't until Richard had proven himself a warrior that Nicolas finally taught him what would become the most important lesson of his life. "This is the most important thing you'll ever hear me say to you, Richard," he said as he gave him his own sword; a significance of his cross into warfare maturity. "Wizards are nothing but soulless monsters, you will do well to always remember that. Find them, destroy them, and the Creator will reward greatly."

And since then, Richard had been doing all he could to rid the world of the wizards. Unfortunately, his father never seemed to be satisfied with whatever he did, always chastising him for the handful that he didn't get instead of praising him for the uncountable he killed.

And Richard did try harder; finding more, killing more, ridding the world of more. But it was never enough. He began to lose the father he had grown to love and respect as the years went by, and eventually he did. It was as if Nicolas had more invested in the war than just seeing the wizards annihilated and he would never be fulfilled until they were.

"But the wizards are still living, Father," Richard said, shaking with a turmoil of emotions as he knelt in front of the corpse. "You have fallen, but the monsters are still standing."

And with a lot of confusion in his heart, Richard did the first thing his father had ever warned him never to do; he wept.

***

Richard's eyes jerked open as he heard the cathedral doors open, the morning sun almost blinding him in the process.

"It's morning, your Highness," he heard Aegan say from behind him. It took a second but he finally regained enough lucidity to turn and look at the old man beaming him a smile full of respect.

"Aegan, have you been waiting just outside the doors all night?" asked Richard, concerned but still giving the old man a smile to match his own. He tried to get up but a groan escaped his lips as his body protested against the movement and he knelt back down on the floor. The prince had slept on his knees with his head on his father's chest; a position he had assumed when he broke down the previous night.

"I felt that it would be nice not to let you feel alone," Aegan replied him, attempting to help the prince up but the latter declined and he let him alone. "So, how did you sleep?"

"Okay, I guess," replied Richard when he finally got his body under control enough to push himself to a standing position. "At least as okay as I could be sleeping on my knees."

Richard neglected to tell Aegan about his tearful breakdown the previous night because he didn't know how the old lord would react to it; he wasn't sure how he should react to it himself.

Anyway, Aegan didn't press for the truth either even though he seemed to suspect that something was being left out of the response. Instead, he gave the prince a piece of cloth to wipe his sleep-ridden face.

"Actually, I came to let you know that some men arrived this morning for an audeince and they need to be attended to in earnest," Aegan said as both men exited the cathedral before suddenly putting on an unsure look. "That means you."

"What!" Richard groaned, very irritated; he had been desperately hoping that he would just go and jump into bed to augment his less than restful night. "Can't you tell them to wait or something like that?"

"I really wish you can go and rest, my lord, but you have to attend to these men first. And it must be personally," Aegan reinstated, much to Richard's dismay. "They're very close with your father and they're requesting to see him. Even worse, they know he will never dally." Richard let out a string of curses before he could stop himself; everything was really turning into a mess that he didn’t want to get himself involved in.

Thing is, the royal court of Cyrian had agreed that no one outside the palace be informed that the king was dead before everything was ready for Richard’s succession and coronation. A way to ensure the peace, they had said. But as the prince knew very well, the reason of that decision was more politically minded than out of sheer goodwill.

As it turned out, Nicolas was a man who had a lot of power in the realm, power which extended to the great kingdom of Cyrian and its high officials. Announcing that the king was dead would mean that they risk losing their influence to the next most powerful great kingdom on the rise, and that was a risk they most definitely weren't prepared to take.

But in support of their decision or not, Richard’s first and foremost obligation was to the kingdom; he had to do what was right by it and its interest. "Alright, Aegan,” he finally said after a long while. “Let's go see what these men want." The prince knew very well that from that point onward, his life was going to change; he had no idea just how much.