The King

The Proposal

His lungs burn with the stain of smoke and ash. Dark clouds roll over his head. It looks like it is going to rain. He is in a field that has been blackened with fire. The wind whistles like a battle cry, but no one is making the sound. They all lay dead on the ground with broken armor and faces plastered with horror. He wonders if his own father is among the rubble. He realizes he is in front of his kingdom, or at least where it once stood.

“Larkin.”

He spins around to see Carissa standing there. Her feet are bare, but she glows softly in the dull surroundings. She reaches her hand out as if to touch him. Then there is a grumble like rolling thunder, only it isn’t thunder.

They both turn to a strange, configured, large grey cloud. It travels across the ground like fog, but then he realizes it is its feet stomping into the earth, yet its build reaches the sky. A pair of horns lightly grazes the clouds with red eyes fixed on them.

He is far away from her, but he has a sudden urge to get to her…before it does.

“Carissa! Run, Carissa!”

He starts to run towards her. She doesn’t move, she just stares at him with a sad expression on her face. The thing easily covers yards of land in a few strides. Just as he is a few feet away, he is sent back by the force of the giant's feet stepping just a few inches in front of him.

The creature now holds Carissa in its clawed hands. She doesn’t scream or struggle, just continues to look at him like she expects him to save her, and the disappointment of his failing to do so.

“Larkin,” It is the only thing that leaves her mouth before the monster brings her up to its lips and swallows her whole.

“No!” He cries out in utter terror and desperation.

His shout has attracted the creature's attention. He then comes to a conclusion. This thing must be the Demon King in its concentrated form.

He could run, he could hide, but all those efforts seemed futile with his size, his strength. When this monster is seeking him out, no matter how he relents, it will find him and it's bound on destroying him.

It picks him up with its thick fingers. He can feel the strength that it's holding back, just so it can not squeeze him to death. He lifts him to eye level, a wide, sharp-toothed grin spreading across its face.

"Son of Tristin, spawn of the Hylanders. I will be your undoing, you and your bloodline. ” It sounds like multiple voices stuck in one body. A low grumble that could break his eardrums. Demon King then opens his mouth and swallows him, and he tumbles into the abyss.

A hard nudge brings him back into reality. Still alert, he frantically looks around, looking past Carissa, who is sitting beside him on the bed.

“Larkin, are you oh-'

“No!” The sudden tug of his arms causes a loud clatter and crash. The tray that was carrying his breakfast is now scattered on the wooden floor.

“Get away!”

She gasps and backs away from him, startled by his outburst. When he sees that the destruction of the kingdom doesn’t lay before him—that he has not been swallowed by the Demon King, he realizes he is safe.

He turns to Carissa, her eyes are clouded with tears, with spilt tea and jam sprayed across her floral dress. She briskly walks out of his room, slamming the door behind her.

Once he collects his breathing, he gets out of bed and starts picking up the broken pieces of glass. He knows he’ll have to apologize. Once he gathers everything on a tray, he heads down the stairs to places it in the kitchen.

“Larkin,” his father calls. “What have you done to Carissa? She just ran past me in tears.”

“It was my fault…it was an accident.”

“Well, which was it, your fault or an accident?”

“It is hard to explain. I will apologize to her.”

“You better. You have been inconsiderate towards her of late. She has been trying so hard to impress you.”

“I know, “ He mutters. “Can I ask if you have heard any news about the Demon King?”

His father pauses, looking at him with a quizzical brow. “Nothing of late. Why?”

“I just had this dream…” Looking at his father, the explanation only further confused him. “Never mind.”

“Don’t worry so much. Just focus on Carissa. It will take him a while before he reaches full strength."

He heads outside to join Morris and the knights. He occasionally joins in on their practice, and he isn’t the only one today. Seated on the stairs is Carissa, who is looking off distantly with her chin resting in her palm. Her yellow gown has been exchanged for a pair of pants and a blouse with a leather vest. She makes eye contact, but instead of her cheery demeanor towards him, she coldly looks in the other direction. It's a look he knows he is deserving of. He moves across the combat circle to talk to her, but he is suddenly stopped by Morris.

“Glad to see you have joined us. Want a go?” He has a sword and shield pressed to Larkin's chest.

“No, I —“

“Come on, take it,” Morris insists.

Larkin looks back at Carissa, who remains adamant to keep her eyes fixed on the distance.

“Fine,” he says, taking the weaponry from him, and just as quickly as he does, Carissa is on her feet.

“I would like a turn, too."

Morris looks between them with amusement.

“Works for me.“ He pats Larkins' back, “Good luck with that.”

She picks up a sword and shield and approaches the center of the arena. She looks to be in no mood for generous play between friends. It is an expression he recognizes from childhood; she wants to see him bleed.

They take their stances, on guard of every small movement, every expression. As he predicted, Carissa is the first to attack. He narrowly misses a s***h she makes straight across where his neck would be. The force she uses takes him aback, and he makes it just in time to block her sword, which swings straight down.

“Hey!”

He feels her foot plant itself into his abdomen, sending him onto his back. He rolls onto his knees, struggling to get back to his feet. Carissa stands by, pacing back in forth, eager for another attack.

“I guess we shouldn’t let the dress fool us, she's just as ruthless as ever,” Morris’s comments make the knights chuckle. They have fully focused on their fight, sitting around the circle just to watch Larkin get beaten up.

“What happened this morning…I didn’t mean to do that.”

He parries another attack, hitting the hilt of his sword into her back.

“You don’t seem sorry,” she says. She turns around, trying a jab from below to which he spins away from.

“I mean it. I wasn’t trying to hurt you. I just thought I was doing you a kindness.”

“By ignoring me?”

“I just didn’t want you to feel obligated to like me."

She strikes again, to which he counters with his sword, she pushes against it, sending him flying back.

“I want to like you!” Carissa blurts. “But I don’t think you want to like me.”

She throws down her weapons and storms off in the other direction. The knights have lost their interest now and have started to continue their practice.

Morris holds out his hand to help Larkin up. “Go after her.”

He does just that. He wanders all over the castle and questions anyone about her whereabouts. Eventually, he is led to the staircase and sees her standing on a balcony overlooking the ocean.

He joins, waiting for the words to sound right in his mind before he speaks them.

"Why are we called Hylanders?" She speaks first.

“Well…I guess it was a name our ancestors came up with. The gallant Arden and wise Leif.”

“Do you think we deserve it?”

He ponders the answer for a moment before arriving at a simple, “No.”

She shakes her head, her lips tightening into a thin line. “All my life, I was told I was special. I was held to a higher standard. I was more than a princess. They told me I was their little goddess. So I tried not to be that. to be imperfect. It's funny how it all came full circle. I accept who I am, what my inheritance is. Still, I hoped there was just one shred of my life...that maybe when you marry me, you won't think of me as a Hylander...but just a girl. ”

"Carissa--"

"I know you don't want this, I know you dont like me--"

"I do like you. I have since you arrived here." His pulse is racing as he turns towards her. “Carissa. I want you…Would you…”

Carrissa looks on at him, confused by him stumbling over his words. He is trying to force the question out even when it wasn’t fully formed in his mind, “You can fight just a good as a knight, and yet instead of choosing violence, you rather choose forgiveness. You know just what you want, but you hold back to make sure others can pursue what they want. And I am sorry. I thought I didn't deserve you. I still do. I feel light. I feel faint, like I’m suspended in air." Carrisa is silent, so he continues. “And I’m starting to feel that way when I look at you.” They both stare at each other, not saying anything. Larkin is unsure if he has made it clear. “I mean to say I want to propose to you.”

Carissa just stares at him, and for a moment, he thinks she didn't hear.

"I said I--"

“I accept." With her hands around his torso, she embraces him. He stands there for a moment but eventually wraps his arms around her. He wants this marriage to be true; he hopes for it.