Philippe of Morgarath

Chapter Seven

Night had already fallen, when Philippe finally reached the Portunia mountain. He stood at its foot, with Nay standing next to him. The air felt fresher already, eventhough he had not yet started his climb.

He looked up the mountain and noticed its steepness. He brushed Nay one last time thankful down his neck, and then fished the rope and pickaxe out of the bag. It didn't cost him much time until he found two perfect sized rocks, and because his father had given him a freshly sharpen axe, it also did not cost that much time to pick them into two long, sharp objects. He tied the rocks under his feet, and picked another two for him to hold in his hands.

After this, he tied the rope around his waste, and on the axe itself. That's how he started his climb. He pushed the sharp rocks inbetween two cracks, and then did the same with the rocks that were bound to his shoes. With the axe he made a secure anchor and slowly, yet steadily, he moved himself up on the cliffside.

With every move he made, he required full concentration. The rocks were slippery, and some loose. Every time he wanted to attach the pickaxe, he had to make sure that the place he had chosen was secure enough. It happened way too often that the rock he'd chosen, let loose and made the long fall down the cliff.

Sometimes he looked over his shoulder, and with the time's passing, Nay became smaller and smaller in comparison. With the day passing him by, he also started noticing his surroundings becoming colder, and colder. It was a good thing that the endeavor kept him warm, because he was definitely not well dressed for this climb.

After a few hours, he noticed a ledge. It wasn't big, but it was big enough for him to stand on, to try and catch a breath. While he was standing there, he for the first time genuinely noticed that it had gotten darker. Night had almost fallen and everything he saw, was with the last beams of sunlight. He was running out of time. Anxiety started to get the best of him. He needed many hours for his ride back, and he was already extremely tired. How would he ever be able to find the flower with the light leaving him?

He wanted to do his family proud. He noticed a sting, near his heart. All he wanted was for him to return, and for his father to be proud of him. The commitment to Llona was not something he was looking forward to, but he also did not dread it. Ever since he was a little boy, he had known that marrying for love was not something that the Gods had in mind for him. Heck, he did not even believe in love itself. Yes, he had been with women. So if you look at it from that perspective, he had felt their bodies and therefore their love. Because that's similar, right?

He frowned. There had always been something nagging in the back of his head. All love he had ever felt, or known, was his father, and brother's love. And that from the dogs, and horses, near the castle of course. Philippe smiled. No, he had not missed out on anything. If a dog's love is not similar to a woman's love, then he did not even want a woman's love.

He looked around him, trying to see if per chance there would be a flower. The panic came back to him, when he noticed he could not see any type of plant. He was not even halfway to the top of the mountain. There would be no way for him to make it. 'Thanks dad', he said out loud, to no one. 'Thanks Maldun', he mocked the elder as well. 'Telling me to travel to Portunia y Climerea, but not giving me any specifications to how far to climb. And...' That's when it hit him. He felt his throat turn dry. 'To...' he said slowly. It's what he had said in the ritual, with Maldun. He had to travel to the mountain. No one had ever said anything about him needing to climb it. He had to travel to the mountain, and bring back the flower. Was it even a mountain flower? Did he look around the foot of Portunia?

If he could, he would have hit himself in the face. Why did he do what he always did, muscle before brain.

He turned around with his belly to the mountain and started his descent. This is what Christophe had always accused him of. Slowly he started putting it together. When his father had given him the pickaxe, he had said it was a weapon, for protection. He never told him it was a tool to bring him up the mountain.

Thankfully the descent was faster than the climb. Maybe because Philippe had found renewed strength, from his inner frustration. Maybe just because of gravity. When he felt the earth under his feet, he took a second to find his stability, before untying the rocks from his shoes and hands.

Afterwards, he clicked his tongue, wanting for Nay to come to him. 'I am so stupid', he continued speaking to no one other than himself. The sun had gone under halfway down his descent, and by this time the moon and stars were the only light he had left. The sound of Nay trotting towards him, made him smile. 'Did you happen to see a flower somewhere?' he asked the horse, before he could even see the black stallion. His colours made him practically disappear in the dark background of the night. The horse did not answer, though. 'Smell it then?' Philippe continued. Again, the horse did not answer. 'If you want some extra carrots at home, you better tell me now', Philippe said jokingly. Despirited he sat himself down on the floor. His legs hurt, as did his arms. How would he ever be able to find the stupid flower without having any proper light?

Nay pushed his face to Philippe's shoulder, and Philippe felt his breath in his ear. 'Who was I even trying to kid, Nay', he said defeated to his horse. He took the animal's head in his hand and petted him on the nose. 'Who knows, maybe the commitment will be postponed, and my journey can start earlier. It might be for the best, there could be a real threat, you know.' He tried to fake a smile. 'I was not ready to commit any way, Llona has not even said a word to me since our kiss.' He took a couple of seconds to think. 'Do you think she hates me, Nay?' He asked, knowing the horse would never answer. 'I know it was not very consensual, but she also did not slap me, or get angry. I am her fiancée, and it was just a kiss.' He stood up from where he sat.

Anger started brooding up from inside of him. 'It's unfair', he continued out loud. 'It's a stupid flower. This entire ceremony makes no sense. How did my father ever do this?' he grabbed the medaillon that he was wearing around his neck.

'And those sutpid sentences, we had to say. What are we, monkeys?' He remembered his father's words. He was the only one that had sounded sincere, the entire morning. 'All these riddles. I hate riddles. If you want someone to have intelligence, they should have commited Christophe. Not me. I am dead muscle. Give me a sword and send me in harms way, I will show everyone what I can. But these stupid, little, political games. It's annoying, Nay.'

He took the medaillon off of his neck. 'When everything feels lost, you said, dad?' he said to the medaillon, pretending it to be his father. 'Find strength with your house and family. Yes, but I am not at home. And you are not here.' He remembered the words, up to detail. 'Even if we seem far away, we are close to your heart. Meaningless', he scoffed. Why did his father not give him directions to the flower? That would have been more useful than... His heart skipped a beat.

Who said his father had not given him directions? 'Close... to my heart', he said, out of breath. That's where the necklace had been. He whispered: 'I'll be damned', while he started looking at the medaillon with pierced eyes. There was not a lot of light, but he had to do with what he had.

He started looking at every single detail of the locket, from the big M on the front, to the flower inscriptions on the back. That's when he saw it. A small, little button, to the side of the necklace. With careful fingers he tried pushing it.

The locket jumped up, and there he saw it. The dried, purple flower. He let out a big scream of victory, that made Nay take three steps away from his owner. 'I've got it, Nay!' Philippe yelled, after which he instantly jumped on his horse's back. He pushed his heels into the stallions belly. 'Hiyah', he made his horse go into instant gallop. 'Yah!'

The people were cheering loudly, and proudly, when Philippe arrived at the castle. It was still dark, but barely. Phil sat up straight, full of pride, but he genuinely had to give his last bit of energy to not fall right off of his horse. He was exhausted.

Among the crowd he saw his brother and father. He also found the entire Kwarth family, minus his fiancée of course, according to protocol.

Phil got off of Nay's back and into his brother's arms. 'Well job', Christophe whispered in his ear.

'My son has returned', Malowen's voice rumbled through the darkness. With softer voice he asked Philippe for the flower. Phil handed him over de locket, and received a wide grin from his father. 'How long did it take you to figure it out?' the regent asked his son.

'Way too long, father. Way too long', Philippe responded with a slight smile on his face. 'Father, I do not get it. Why Portunia? Why make me do the climb. The mountain was useless, the travel was meaningless.'

Malowen rested his hand on Philippe's shoulder. 'It was not useless, nor meaningless. But I must admit, I felt the same way after I returned for your mother.' He smiled, but Philippe saw the sadness shine through. 'The travel is symbolic for the effort you will have to put in to your coming relationship. The climb stands for the exhaustion you will have to put yourself through, to keep the relationship strong. You will have to do things, which will feel like the effort is not worth the outcome. The pickaxe is a symbol for misconception.' Malowen's smile disappeared. 'Women are creatures of deceit, my son.'

Yes, Philippe knew that. His father had never given him a chance to forget. Which was not very strange, considering what his mother had done to him. 'Not just their loytalty', Malowen continued. 'But also the way they speak. They can give you hints, or say things while meaning something else. They can build an entire case around information they assume you knew already.' Philippe was surprised. He had not known a lot of women, at least not more than their physical comfort. So he instantly believed hos dad. Malowen must've noticed his haziness, because he added: 'Go to get some rest, Philippe. Tomorrow will be a busy day.' Philippe nodded, and walked inside, with his father's proud facial expression in mind.