Happy Birthday

. . .it's not every day that a Prince is born dead.

In a Kingdom far, far away, one that you may not have heard of before; in fact, I'm quite sure you never have heard of it, nor will you. Inside the highest chamber of the grand minaret, nine year old Lozal looked out to his father, King N'rahj, pacing the balcony. He held the new born prince in a large hand, one that made the pink babe appear like a broken toy in the manner in which it moved.

Limp.

Without life.

Dead.

There was no chants from the masses of hundreds gathered feet below. They were void of sound, much like the newborn prince.

Father, what can I do? Lozal thought. Tell me, and I shall do it. The oldest Prince glanced down at his mother, who rested in the birthing pool. Her black hair clung to her in patches upon her damp skin, bathed in sweat and blessed water. ``Father will save him, Mother..`` Lozel softly said to his mother.

Fatigue was evident on her face, in her smile, and how her eyes opened weakly. It was In the raspy, yet fragile tone of her voice. ``The Gods are with him, and your father is blessed— if anyone can save our child, it is he.`` She paused as pain struck her features and her brow sewed together. ``He is very special, he cannot be dead...cannot be dead..`` Her words trailed, and her eyes shut. Panic instantly gripped Lozal, who gasped with fright, but the sudden breath that was released from his mother let him know she had slipped into a sudden exhausted sleep. 

Lozal touched his mothers’ brow, pushed back her hair and whispered down to her. ``Rest mother, father and I will save him..`` Lozal left his mother’s side and crept timidly towards the archway leading to the balcony. Piercing rays of light caused him to squint as he approached his father; a man who was strong, led his people well.

A firm, yet just King.. who was presently showing his age on his worried face in these moments, a worried man who mumbled prayers as he soothed the chest of the dead Prince over and over, tears soaking his face and trailing down the lines and markings of his many winters— ``Son, you cannot do this to us. You are destined. You are blessed. We have seen it in the stars, we have heard it from the scryers— you stop this, stop this now and wake. Cry, open your eyes.. cry and fill your lungs with air. Cry..`` Tears fell, and the strokes to stimulate his tiny heart became urgent, and forceful.

All the healing men and women that had been present at birth had been ordered by the King to keep their distance, as he painfully attempted to bring life back to his child..

Lozal gazed upon the dead Prince, who, to him, looked terribly at peace in his ever slumbering state. He was no longer pink but had begun to lose color, from pink to white. White to an awful gray.. Lozal forced his stare off his infant brother and looked down at the tens of thousands of villagers and travelers who had undergone a pilgrimage to welcome the birth of his baby brother. All stood stunned in silence. Where small comfort came at the embracing hug of one to another, or a gripping hold of hands. Lozal reached out and took hold of his father’s ceremonial robe. The silks were bloodied; his father had been there to oversee the birth of his own son. He felt secure for a moment, just a moment, standing there, touching the ceremonial robes, with words of divine power and knowledge stitched into them— knowing his father was doing all he could to save the Prince. Lozal's father pressed the baby against his chest, and pushed Lozal backwards with his free hand. Raised the baby over his head and shouted at the limp child. The sudden rejection shattered Lozal with an injection of insecurity; his father, with his heavy brown eyes and his perfectly trimmed beard, had always shown his firm nature, but as he focused on the dead babe— so high above the masses— he manifested to stone. Cold, cold bitter stone. Lozal watched his father’s face, a face he knew all too well in the whole nine years of his life— a face that now looked at this babe with so much love...true, true love. A look, that Lozal had never, ever seen before…

His small vision darted from his father to his brother and back again. Father, has your love for me...been a lie? Lozal thought and dropped his head, raven-black-promise hair fell around his youthful face. He was not crying. He was a Prince! No, he would not cry, at least, not then, not in front of his Father.. and his Mother.. The sound of the crowd caused Lozal to lift his face; a chanting, singing in prayer. In unity. They all cried out in the old tongue, save this child save the one written in the stars! It was hypnotic, it reached deep into his core, Lozal felt the love, their care and it caused his own heart to pummel in his chest. Clarity suddenly struck Lozal, watching in silence as the crowd below swayed and chanted side to side; looking upon his father, who chanted with the crowd in a yell. Surprisingly .. Lozal could not hear his father, everything had gone mute; all in that moment, when he realized, his brother truly was...divine. 

The Priests had written about his brother. It was written in the stars! It had been hundreds of years since another being of such importance as his brother had graced their kingdom with his presence. They said, the Prince would possess spiritual gifts beyond compare, that he could gather the people, that people would follow him. Is this not true? Has he not done this so far? The unity of the people, he has accomplished this, and he is dead…

Dead.

Lozal's duty from the young princes’ birth and throughout was to provide unyielding devotion unto him. His only brother, his only other sibling. Lozal had sworn to himself before the coming of the young Prince that he would always be there to provide whatever he may need.

Abruptly a deep voice rumbled from inside the chamber, startling Lozal.. ``—My dear, dearest Lozal..`` This voice upset Lozal’s stomach— rolled it into knots. ``—Sweet, strong Lozal, come...come see your mother..`` He turned looking towards his mother, then abruptly tugged on his father's robe and pointed with a trembling finger into the sacred chamber. ``Father! There is a man in there``

A chanting, harmonious chanting echoed in his ears, filled his head and caused it to pound! The King pushed Lozal away, harder this time. ``There is a man in there!`` Lozal stomped and rose his voice. But he was ignored so Lozal crept. Inched towards the archway and peeked inside. There stood a colossal man, behind the now much bloodier waters of the birthing pool. Menacingly, he towered over his mother. The black of his bald head and muscular arms was as dark as the leather he wore from his shoulders to his thighs. A single red teardrop decorated the skin beneath his left eye. Lozal was pained with realization, he knew this man! He knew him all too well! He was from the scriptures! From stories of old that surround his Kingdom! The Black One, a God-Lord...  but what was his name!?

``—your mother...is going away forever..`` The bass in his voice caused the very floor Lozal stood on to tremble. The God-Lord loomed further over Lozal's mother and placed a hand to her shoulder. His other hand beckoned Lozal closer. ``—come, be at her side..`` Piercing, golden orange eyes watched the Prince as he breathed heavily from his opened mouth. Lozal could not stop watching his mother; she had looked so tired before, but she had found sleep, much needed sleep. However, now she looked to be struggling! Pain, there was pain in her unawakened features, a tortured expression, plagued by whatever was happening inside her, inside her mind! In whatever dream this God-Lord held her captive! ``Father! Come quickly!`` The Prince screamed!

King N'rahj snapped his head towards Lozal and shouted. ``Foolish child! Be silent! I must have concentration!``  

``No! Father! There is a man in here! Moth--`` The cry of a child, of a child that had once been dead. . .suddenly pulled newfound air into its lungs and found his first cry. 

The King instantly pulled the child into his chest and held him protectively, ignoring Lozal and the plight he spoke of. His father wept fresh tears of joy!  

And the child cried, .and Lozal shouted. ``Father! Listen to me!`` 

``—what, what is this? That child...that child should not have returned..`` the God-Lord spoke and stared with riddled confusement and a blazing ferocity welling in those golden orange pits of his eyes. Lozal could only stare between the baby, his mother, the God-Lord and his Father; his Father that ignored him and now it was all too clear to Lozal that he could not see the God-Lord. The people that filled the room wept and held each other in praise and joy at the sudden life that filled the infant Prince, and no one but Lozal took notice of the fact that his mother's life was being threatened by this...this God, but there was something else Lozal took notice of in those moments as his Father stepped out onto the balcony and held the weeping child for all to take witness of the glory and wonder that had just taken place in their Kingdom, his baby brother had not returned to the color of pink that he had been born with. The ashen gray color, a color void of life, continued to stain his skin, and as his father turned the child this way and that Lozal saw what appeared to be a shadow, or a mark begin to manifest on the chest of the babe..

``—that..that child!`` The sudden outburst in that tone by the God-Lord caused a tremble to trickle down the spine of Lozal. What is wrong with my brother? Why does the God-Lord suddenly sound ...afraid? 

``Father! Father! Do you not see him! He is right there! Father! FATHER!`` Lozal shouted, pointed and hot tears stung his eyes and spilled down his face. So I did cry in front of him.. in front of my mother. Lozal turned back towards the God-Lord and his Mother, only to witness what Lozal could comprehend as the life essence of his mother being devoured at a rapid state.

The same manner in which you see children rip up grass by the handfuls, the God-Lord was reaching into his mother’s chest, ripping out...her soul...and stuffing it into his all-consuming mouth while his eyes, those eyes that glared with hatred at the babe! Lozal lost it, he screamed, and ran to the aid of his mother who laid limp and only twitched now and then as huge black mauling hands reached into her chest and pulled out her vitality.

``—that child! that child cannot be!`` The God-Lord hissed and quickly filled his mouth he paid no mind to the other Prince as he reached their side and tried to stop him. Foolishly reaching out to stop this by trying to detain...this God by the wrists. The only thing the child accomplished was a sudden sting of freezing cold, which burned the flesh of his skins to a polished black coal look; and as he screamed in pain and snapped his small fists closed, the frozen skin cracked and broke like black-glass shattering to the floor.

The King then gasped, coughed, and blood splashed from his nose and filled the air like red confetti.. ``—No! NO! The Child must not live!`` The God-Lord floated high into the room as others finally took notice of the dead Queen.

Lozal whimpered through gritted teeth and crawled to his mother, eyes red from the tears. Frozen-burnt hands in fists to his chest and no one noticed that his tears had turned to blood; this God, sprouted wings of a bat, but in an upside down manner, and double in pair, one set larger than the other; where fingernails that appeared as normal and human became elongated to resemble black, curved polished daggers, his features changed and took that of a frightening face only fit for nightmares; and threatening growls left him like the fierce lions that sometimes came with the caravans.

The King fell to his knees and the crowd below gasped in horror for the King and the Prince babe! But no one in that tower. . .was now standing.

Crumbling to their knees or down on their sides in a fetal position. Even Lozal was gripped by sudden agony! This, this God! He was doing it! He was trying to kill our savior! My brother! Bloodied tears stained his face and fell without signs of stopping. Lozal looked around and watched men of medicine and women vomiting blood and bile while their eyes bled. Lozal, he would not allow this…

I swore. I swore! I swore to provide and protect! He shouted to himself in thought.

His body felt on fire, every muscle burned and his vision blurred, but somehow Lozal still found his footing upon shaking knees. His eyes were on the God-Lord as it floated towards his Father, the King who was dry-heaving and showing signs of even holding the babe to be difficult.

No, you will not! I will not let you kill us! Kill my brother! Lozal’s thoughts ran rampant as he managed to stumble into a run! Even though his body complained, screaming at him to just fall and try to rid the pain! Lozal shoved a woman who was trying to rise aside, toppled a small table and a vase with water and fresh flowers that had been placed for his mother. No! I will not let you! I WILL NOT!

The God-Lord was nearly at them! Almost atop his baby brother! Lozal lept! To tackle the God-Lord off the tower. But when Lozal's body should have made contact with the God-Lord's massive form, there was nothing but more air..

..and Lozal passed through the form of ..this God. ..and fell, fell through the air, and he heard the sounds of the crowd as it gasped. Someone shouted a quick prayer to a God, but not ..this God. and the floor greeted Lozal into darkness.

``—you, child of Legend! Child who's name should not have been written in the star's! Your life was removed! How, how do you live?!`` The God-Lord hissed and reached towards the babe, the ashen gray babe, with its mark upon its chest. The Child stilled its crying and turned its eyes towards the God Lord; feets below a startled gasp cried from the crowd and those who gathered over the body of the broken Prince Lozal..

Fear and panic reigned as people realized blood flowed freely from their faces. Dribbled from their noses, spilled from their ears and trickled from the corner of their eyes.....this, this Babe, who's eye's swirled and took the appearance of the God-Lord's as the two stared at each other brought a frightened gasp from, ..this God.

Was the King still alive? It was of no importance. Hundreds and hundreds of people scrambled in panic and cried for salvation as they bleed out and simply...died. Nothing graceful or ceremonious... ..this God, reached into the child to remove its life, the same way it had done to its mother; but when he tugged back to pull the essence out, he felt no beating heart inside the chest of the babe..

Something, something was wrong!

And the God-Lord felt it! Yet as he tried to pull his hand free from the child's chest he could not! The quiet infant only stared with orange-burning eyes and watched as the God-Lord was slowly pulled into the chest of the babe, inch, by inch..  ...this God hissed! Growled! Cursed in another language and even cried out for help as now, this time...he was the one being Reaped.

The God-Lord reached down to claw at the babe! And as contact was made, his hand sunk into the babe as if he was made out of water, this only aided in the God-Lord being pulled into the body of the babe faster; and in those moments as the God-Lord screamed and shouted like a trapped animal fighting for freedom, the mark on the chest of the babe began to beat..

Thump-thump...thump-thump...thump-thump…

The God-Lord could do nothing to spare himself as he stared... at the BLACK HEART that pulsed before him and the sound it droned out to him as he was consumed.