Torn in Two

“Why did he have to do this?” he asks under his breath as he rapidly writes on a piece of parchment under candlelight.

“Sir, are you positive you will carry through with this?” a voice whispers in the darkness.

“When have I not? You know, Paulio, that he’s absolutely forcing me to do this. I am innocent and to prove to the country that I stick to my word, it is unavoidable for me to let him off the hook,” he sighs sorrowfully until a spark of anger fastens his eye, “after all, I have a duty to perform to my kingdom and his love affair won’t stop me!”

Finishing his speech loudly, he slams his fist on the table upsetting an ink bottle.

“Of course, Your Royal Highness,” Paulio answers dutifully while cleaning up the mess, “But don’t you believe that you’re being too hard on your son? Surely, you must have feelings…” Paul immediately notices his grave mistake and quiets down at once at the sight of the king’s scarlet face, noticeable even in the darkness.

After a few more moments of the quill scratching against the parchment and the flickering candlelight, the king slowly rises from his golden throne chair. He hands out a scrolled letter with the royal arms on it to Paulio while gathering a lighted taper.

“Done. My name is signed. All that’s left to do is for you to proclaim the news to the people,” the king murmurs tirelessly as his waist-length grizzled grey beard sways back and forth, creating ominous shadows against the back of the room.

“Of course, but, as your royal advisor, I advise you to rethink your decision. It is never too late to change your mind. We can easily do away with the evidence by pitching it into the fire,” Paulio whispers eagerly as he presses his warm hands into the king’s pale and sullen ones.

“My decision has been made. Even though he is my son, the eldest one at that, it gave him no right to disobey my orders, which played a major role in my reasoning. Do not attempt to change my mind, the choice was hard enough as it is,” the king replies firmly as he pushes Paul’s hands away and begins to blindly edge toward the front door of his study.

Paulio sighs at the scroll and looks melancholy out the window, viewing the pitch black wintry sky that was constantly eating up their food supplies. He made note to look into the expected bread supply arrival from the Salvanio Kingdom the next day at dusk.

“Ah, one more thing Paulio. I’d like for you to accompany me tomorrow to the Arena so I can complete the annual ceremony there. It’ll be good to give my old bones a stretch and a bit of enjoyment will also do me good, too. What do you say?”

“I’ll be there, Your Highness.”

“Excellent. And please, if you hear of anything about him, notify me immediately.”

“Naturally.”

“Good night!” the king proclaims as he leaves the study.

“Good night, King Rafnia.”

Once the heavy door closes and the king’s footsteps recede, Paulio disposes of his inky handkerchief, tidies up the room, whistling through his work. Once the room is fixed up again, Paulio blows out the candles that illuminate the room and tucks the study in for the night with the words,

“He has left his heart with his son and now he seeks comfort from no one but entertainment and his fulfillment of duty at the Arena. I must stick by him since he needs me, especially during his time of sorrow after poor Queen Meranda’s death. I vow to help him by any means possible but when will the King realize that duty isn’t everything?”

He exits the study door softly, allowing the moonlight to seep into the room along with the unavoidable darkness of night.

***

Terrible, horrible images dance across a black canvas. A colorful advertisement displays words sponsoring the opening of the Arena. On one particularly large banner the words follow as so:

WELCOME ONE AND ALL TO THE WORLD FAMOUS ARENA!

ACTORS FROM ALL OVER THE GLOBE COMPETE.

WHO WILL BECOME VICTORIOUS?

WITNESS KING RAFNIA,

THE ACTION,

THE THRILL,

AT THE ARENA!

Next, an image of a carriage speeding through filthy streets and polluted grey skies fills the king’s mind. Looking outside the window, he views pale and ghostlike people wearing faded rags filled with holes. Looking out at the opposite window, he notices that they have arrived at their destination: the Arena.

He hears the crowd cheer loudly as round after round goes by in a blurry flash of colors until the impossible happens. It is like time has stopped and everything is moving in slow motion as the king, using binoculars, lays eyes on a young man wearing a feathered hat combating the White Lion, a feline as white as snow with a fiery mane of hair. The young man wearing the feathered hat is his long lost son, Adam.

His immediate response is to end the festivities and get his son back but flashes of signing Adam’s disinheritance with Paulio strengthens his initial decision. He will not show mercy on his deceiving son. Let him die, what did he care? He deserved to live and die the life of a common street actor. That should teach him to respect his father and his country.

The king looks back at the scrawny young man rolling on the floor, getting tossed and harassed by the brutal White Lion. He reasons that he must stay strong and tuck his emotions inside his mind, for the good of his country. He looks one more time at the competitors to witness the last memory of his son:

Adam’s helplessness as the White Lion pounces, his blank eyes looking up at him with pity.

***

The king bolts upright and finds himself awake in his bed, sweating profusely. It had all been just a dream.

“Stupid boy!” he whispers to the night.

This was the third night he dreamt about his son and the Arena.

“It was a nightmare that’s all, just a terrible dream.”

He reassures himself, but looks at his nightstand to see a flyer with the words WELCOME TO THE ARENA, turning all his nightmares into reality.

“He’s gone, gone, gone and it's all my fault.”

The king silently weeps into his satin pillow under his sheets and doesn’t resurface until he notices that his bedroom has grown considerably colder.

“Those attendants always forget to close my window, and I’m always responsible for it. I already have an entire country to run and it’s bad enough that I have to look after my attendants, too,” he mumbles angrily as he closes the window.

Once the window has been shut, he tiredly travels back to his poster bed and attempts to get some sleep when he hears an ominous noise outside his bedroom.

The king covers his ears with his pillow but it doesn't block out the sound. He sits up on his bed and shouts to the night,

“Whoever is making that awful noise, I command you to stop! Guards! Attend me!”

He pauses for the sound of approaching footsteps but doesn't hear any. The noise continues and appears as if it has become closer and louder.

“Whoever or whatever you are, I order you to show yourself!”

The noise rises into a crescendo until King Rafnia is unable to hear his own speech.

“Come out whoever you are! Stop this nonsense and face me!”

The noise abruptly ceases and a pale translucent white figure slides through the door.

“Ghost! Guards seize him! Help!”

“You obviously know who I am but you certainly don’t want to believe it. You remember me very well, father,” the ghost replies rudely.

“Guards! Help!”

“Halt your bothersome shouting. No one can hear you. I’ve put everyone in the palace under a sleep spell so you wouldn’t rouse anyone. You’re so predictable, father. But you don’t even deserve the title of father from me.”

The king is speechless at the encounter of this young man wearing a feathered hat, his son, Adam.

“Adam? Is it really you?”

He reaches out to hold the ghost’s transparent hands.

“Stop acting as if you love me because you don’t. You abandoned me in my time of need,” the ghost replies angrily, pulling his pale hands away disgustedly.

“Your time of need?! Did you ever think about me? I was just crowned king and you expected me to give you leave to run away and marry some poor, good-for-nothing maiden?”

“Her name was Esmeralda, and she was more significant to me than what you think of her. It doesn't matter what you think because your opinion is worth nothing to me,” the ghost replies, grinding his teeth fiercely.

“Stop trying to make me pity you. You knew that I had a reputation and no one was going to endanger my new title, not even you. When you left me, I was lucky enough for your obedient younger brother, Corond, to remain loyal to me,” says the king immediately jumping out of his bed and pointing accusingly at the ghost of his son.

“Oh, really. Well, did you ever stop to think about how hard my life was with Esmeralda?”

“Well, n-no not really,” he replies guiltily, lowering his pointed finger and losing his anger.

“I thought so,” the ghost says, pacing the king’s bedroom a few times before speaking, “I must be brief for I’m forced to depart when the sun rises. Well, I’ll begin from the beginning then.

“When I first met Esmeralda after your coronation, you gave petitions to the citizens of Palanog, granting them land, food, shelter, etc. it was love at first sight. I immediately confronted you, as you must surely remember, and told you that I would marry Esmeralda. You denied my request so I had no choice but to disobey you and marry in secret in Esmerald’s town, all these events happened unbeknownst to you.

“My younger brother, Corond, was able to stall suspicion about my departure to everyone, and he was the only one, besides Esmeralda and me, who knew about our secret marriage.”

The ghost pauses to sigh deeply and looks out the window where the night was becoming a little less dense.

“After we married, we lived comfortably in a cottage in a forest where no one could find us, since I knew that you would be looking for me. We stayed quiet for about a month until the sickness came. It was something that I had never seen before. I was not at all affected by the illness, but Esmeralda…she suffered immensely. Her amber curls lay flat on the pillow, and her rosy cheeks were dimmed into a waxy pale color, as if life was being drained from her.

“When my home treatments didn’t work on her, I immediately went into town to find the nearest apothecary who might cure her. I kept a low profile in town until I found the apothecary. I cursed my imprudence when I recalled leaving home without a dime, at the time, fully confident that things would sort itself out; well they didn’t. I had no money to buy the medicine for Esmeralda, and I had to steal it because, you must understand, I was desperate to cure her.

“I was caught instantly. Before I could even step over the threshold of the apothecary’s shop, I was thrown into jail without a trial. I tried to tell them my true identity, but they wouldn’t listen to me and thought I had gone mad. During my awful months in prison, my wandering thoughts served as my only sole company. Would I ever see my Esmeralda again? Was she alright? Would I ever be set free? My latter thought came true, but not in the way I expected.

“You see,” he pauses to look hastily out the window, noting the diminishing moon which causes Adam to speak faster, “I was told that I’d be transitioning prisons and possibly have the opportunity to be set free. I was eager for this change because it filled me with hope that I might see my Esmeralda again. What they didn’t tell us is that we needed to risk our lives for the possibility of freedom.

“And so, I was scheduled to fight against the White Lion, a ferocious and unmerciful beast who’s crime record is splattered in murder. Us criminals were told that whoever won the fight would be set free and be cleared of all crime performed in our lives.

“The rest of my story, you know well enough as it is,” the ghost sadly ends his flashback by pausing to watch the rising sun and then staring at the king, “My time to depart has arrived, and I must go. Remember me.”

“I will,” the king whispers  to the coming dawn as the mere illusion of his son vanishes.

***

Later in the afternoon, a knock sounds outside his door which ends the king’s reflection of the ghost and brings him back to reality.

“Come in.”

Paulio enters hastily with a letter saying urgently while handing King Rafnia a letter,

“Your Highness, the kingdom of Naturia has declared war on us. This letter should explain the reason why. We await your orders.”

The king opens the letter and reads aloud,

“King Rafnia of the Kingdom Palanog,

Due to your inability to control your family, we are compelled to form an army to destroy your country. You may not recall, but the king and I had a daughter many years ago named Esmerlada, who was the new Enchantress in training who, as you well know, keeps our country running smoothly.

“One day, she was a proper lady learning to control her magic with her tutor, fit to rule, and the next day she ran away for no reason at all! Obviously, we looked all over for her but saw no sign of her anywhere. We were quite overcome with sorrow and broken hearts for about five months, until a spy of ours told us in a letter some news of our long lost daughter.

“Well, our spy also told us in a letter that a young man visited his apothecary shop begging to borrow some medicine for his wife, Esmeralda, who was sick in their cottage in the woods. Our sweet, sweet Esmeralda had never been as close to us before! We did not know the exact location of her residence, but we were given more instructions to her location than could be asked.

“The spy also wrote that the young man was then put into jail, claiming to be King Rafnia’s long lost son Adam, and told us that he was indeed the king’s son, due to his crown-like birthmark on his left forearm, which every royal member is inscribed with since their christening.

“How angered we were when we found out that your despicable son was the cause of Esmeralda’s illness and her abandonment of us! Well, we immediately ventured to the village our spy informed us about in haste, hoping that we were not too late to cure Esmeralda of her sickness.

“In the kingdom of Naturia, it is a common fact that when an Enchantress is ill the entire kingdom suffers, too. Moreover, since Esmeralda had not yet completed her magical training with her tutor, she was unable to cure herself from this magical affliction.

“So when we finally discovered where Esmeralda was, she was beyond all magical help, and we knew we were too late to assist. Therefore, we are avenging her death due to your son’s carelessness and taking our daughter away from us forever.

Queen Heather of the Kingdom Naturia”

Once the king finishes reading the letter aloud he commands Paulio,

“We must ready our troops, cavalry, and footmen. Put up posters around town for volunteer soldiers, if we happen to need more assistance in battle. I will call a meeting tomorrow night with my generals to discuss strategy. Alert the common people that tomorrow they will remain indoors.”

“Right away, Your Majesty,” Paulio replies with fervency as he exits the king’s bedroom.

“I must begin to prepare for combat even with my tiresome old heart causing me to be unable to think with reason. Hopefully, a good night’s sleep will do me good.”

***

“It has been done, Your Majesty, but with a heavy heart. I have obediently poisoned King Rafnia during his slumber, as you requested.”

“Excellent, Paulio. Everything has gone to plan. Snowy took care of my brother and with my ignorant father out of the way, it secures my position as king. Does it not?”

A hard and bitter voice asks through the unseeable blackness of night while stroking a large white cat who purrs loudly.

“It does, King Corond,” Paulio sighs regretfully.

“Excellent.”

The large white feline alights to its paws silently as it inches away from Corond while speaking in a low and malicious growl laden with controlled fury,

“My name is the White Lion. I’ve gotten rid of the boy with the feathered hat, Corond, now it’s time you pay up. You promised me a cove at sea where I can live in secret.”

“Yes, but be patient Snowy. The deal will not go into action until I’ve officially been crowned king.”

The White Lion growls angrily, his icy blue cat eyes piercing Corond’s green ones before laying down dejectedly on his enormous paws to continue his nap.

“Leave us Paulio.”

“Of course, Your Majesty,” Paulio answers bowing low before the future king.

Once his royal advisor’s footsteps recede, Corond whispers to the night and the already asleep White Lion,

“All’s well that ends well.”