The Kings Script

*TW: Contains mentions of death, torture, and the odd bit of genocide*

The Jai Halid, mother of all books, the writings before time.” 

“Mere legend” replied the dying farmer, a thin trickle of spittle hanging into his beard. 

Haelsuf cursed, he looked like he might strike the farmer, but he quieted after receiving a single withering glare from his companion. Haelsuf backed away and stood in a corner, hiding within the shadows, his broadsword swaying in its scabbard. 

The glow of a lantern washed the room with a slight light, providing a sombre and quiet atmosphere, a fitting place, perhaps, for a lone peasant to die. 

Nelya knelt down next to the farmer's palliasse. “You’re lying…” she breathed, “It is already over, the entire world knows by now that the protectors of the mother book have been reduced to a single dying farmer.”

“Your children are dead, old man.” Haelsuf added, “Dead protecting something that could never bring them peace, your son died in the dungeons of King Hummayudin, giving up the location of the book –” A single look of exasperation from Nelya was enough to shut him up. 

A look of brief pain passed the dying man's face, once it was gone however, he whispered; “My son was forced to say something he did not believe…The men that killed my children march here for nothing. When the armies arrive, they shall find a house of mud, and nothing else”. 

His courage was commendable, at the very least, thought Nelya. She twisted the pendant of jade, very few knew that this was a habit she displayed when she was nervous. Realising this she stopped, and stared at the man lying down. The only remaining descendant of an ‘elder family’, a bloodline now reduced to nothing. 

Nelya knew this man held the key to the Jai Halid, it was certain. However, the man needed to be willing to give up the knowledge, if she failed here, Hummayudin would find a way to extract the information. He was learned in the power of Mulisaed, forcing Jaed to bend to one's will. All Nelya had managed to learn was the art of Patasaed, but what good would emotion do her here?

Nelya glanced at Haelsuf, asking with her eyes, the next course of action, how best to capture the Jai Halid. The man in the corner stared at her deadpan and flicked his finger against the scabbard of his sword. Nelya could do nothing but roll her eyes; the brute, did he think of nothing but cutting down every obstacle? She decided to ignore him, and returned her attention to the farmer. They had the location, but if the man in front of her did not give up the key, it would be like trying to reach the moon, it was there but untouchable…

“Leave, child.” The farmer whispered through his death rattle, “If the Jai Halid existed, it would give you nothing but pain, the book only takes. Save yourself, you do not need to know pain like I have…” He trailed off.

An intense anger threatened to swallow the young woman, what did this man know of pain?! All he had done was live here and tend to his fields, he had never been betrayed by an entire Senex! He had never watched in horror, as his father, brother, sister, and mother were killed, betrayed by their own people! He had never been given a knife by Lord Rokmar and told to hide in the sewers, covered in waste, as traitors ran rampant through the castle searching for him!

Yet, as Nelya watched the old man cough, she supposed that he had felt pain. Her anger turned to pity, as she imagined his life, last of a dying line, burdened to protect a book that would never repay them, forced with the knowledge that his son had been tortured and killed while trying to protect this curse of a book. Ah of course… at last, she understood what she had to do, here was where the strength of Patasaed lay…

Finally with a decision made, she breathed. From the depths of her being she called forth her teachings, she spoke to the dying man again, no, he had a name, Ahirath, she would have to remember that; “I know what it is I ask of you, Ahirath” she pronounced every word slowly, power imbued into every syllable, her desperation for the key pouring out. 

In the corner, Haelsuf ceased all shuffling, realising what Nelya was doing. He knew better than to risk breaking her focus. A loyal man, he had been loyal to the entire family, especially to King Sarfaz, now he had pledged his sword to her. 

She reached out, wiping the spittle out of the old man's beard. He shuffled a little, clearly unsettled by the sudden change in attitude. She continued speaking in a hushed tone; “You have suffered enough, release your hold on the key and allow yourself to find peace.”.

As she spoke Nelya could feel the reaction of Jaed all around her, reacting to her will, giving power to her voice and lacing it with sympathy. “Take revenge on those that wronged you, those that took your son from you, and forced this burden upon you. Be done with the book, you never wanted to take responsibility for it.” She enunciated each and every word. 

Ahirath closed his eyes, fearing that she had perhaps failed, Nelya paused, waiting for some response from the dying man. Then, finally, he opened his eyes, tears glistening within, and raised his hand to his mouth. Nelya waited, as the farmer reached deep into his mouth, his jaw seeming to unhinge like a snake. As he swallowed his arm until he almost reached his elbow, Haelsuf seemed to retch in the background, and then finally he pulled out a key. 

Simple, unadorned: the kind you would expect a peasant to own, ones they used to lock away what little wealth they may have had. Ahirath placed the key, wet with saliva, into Nelya’s palm, though slightly disgusted she accepted it. 

“Revenge…I beg you, my son demands vengeance…” The old man was crying clearly now, his body racked with sobs and the odd wheezing cough. “I have forsaken my blood, in return I ask that you simply destroy those that cursed us.”. He gestured to a simple box lying beside the palliasse. 

Nelya felt her blood run cold, that box had not been there a moment before. It seemed to have simply appeared the moment the key was presented to her. Though dressed in the simple fashion of the key, the box radiated power, an ancient, oppressive power. As she reached out for the box, the pendant seemed to grow heavier, almost as if it was begging her not to touch it. Nelya ignored it and picked up the box, immediately the world seemed to quieten, even the farmers laboured breathing quieted. She did not process any of this, instead, inserting the key and opening the box; she withdrew a single book. 

“My lady, we should leave.” A gentle voice snapped her back to the present. She felt Haelsuf standing right behind her, a hand on her shoulder slowly guiding her to the door. 

Confused, she glanced at the palliasse, finding Ahirath laying upon it. The now dead farmer, his eyes closed in a peace life had never given him. The flame within the lantern sputtered, and died out, as if its strength had been tied to the lifeforce of the old man. Together, Nelya and Haelsuf walked out into the night, leaving behind the last of the elder blood. 

***

“This is it?” Haelsuf asked, watching the book as Naelya examined it from all angles. The two had set up camp on the border of a forest, not far off from the farm. “Go on then. Open it, I want to read The Mother Book.”

A bout of hesitation, but her curiosity for the Jai Halid superseded, and she opened the book. The writings before time that had driven King Hummayudin into an obsession, to find it and bring it before him. At last she would know just what kind of power was hidden in this book, that Hummayudin desired. Haelsuf sat closer, so as to read over her shoulder.

The pages had been written on using a strange ink, so dark it seemed to swallow all light near it. Like a void, one could fall into. Even stranger were the words; though they seemed have been written in a tongue that more closely resembled runes rather than the common tongue, Nelya could understand every word that was written. Slightly unnerved, she began reading. 

The first day in this new land. It is strange, and seems uninhabited, though I confess I have only witnessed the coast. I do not understand why my father sent me here. He told me; Go, and you shall understand. Here I am, and I still do not understand. We have decided to simply set up camp near the shore, perhaps this ‘understanding’ shall come to me after some rest. The seas were hard, and months of travelling in the ocean kills the soul. I hope it was worth it, I lost quite a few men that were travelling with me.

“A journal?” Haelsuf voiced Nelya’s thoughts, incredulously “The Jai Halid, a book lost to ages, dubbed the mother of all, is a diary?” 

Ignoring him, Nelya flicked through the pages, stopping at a random entry. 

Today marks the end of my first month here. I feel as though I am going mad here, I could have sworn I saw Larkonen staring into the ocean (most likely homesick), but Hirman swears Larkonen was speaking with him. There is a slight sense of unease here, something is terribly wrong here in this land, I just can't seem to understand what. 

“Larkonen and Hirman…? These are names of legends, I did not know they once existed, I thought they were mere stories… Who wrote this, and how is he in the company of such great men?” Haelsuf breathed. 

“Would you stop interrupting every few lines? Why ask me, I am as clueless as you!” The big man quieted, but not before rolling his eyes at her, and gesturing for her to continue. 

The rest of the entry was filled with notes of provisions, and ideas on how to make their encampment more permanent. Nelya went to the next entry. 

I am now absolutely certain that there is someone here who does not belong. Others are reporting about strange occurrences, where they swear upon the name of my father that they have seen people at two places at once. I must catch this ‘thing’ that is mimicking us, I have a plan for it, it's quite simple really. I shall simply ask them to pray in the original tongue, whoever fails, is false.

The next entry was longer. 

We caught it. It had taken the form of Hirman, and when we asked it to pray, it hesitated. Of course none of my true companions would hesitate when asked by me to pray. After some time with Pilan it was ready to speak. It told us that it belonged to a race of people called the Efreet. It had come here to find out who we were and why we had come here, posing as each of us so it could freely ask us questions. I asked it about its people, and it told me that everyone belonging to its race could assume any form they wished. They worshipped nobody except their king and the four high ones, whom they called the Márid. Enul ghun! My father is the only one deserving of worship! I had half a mind to cut off its head then and there, but I decided against it, perhaps I can use it once I meet with the rest of this strange race. The thing continued speaking, and told me how the Márid changed forms so often, it could be said they did not belong to a single sex…

“The Márid…? Is that not the name of the old djinn that were sealed within the ground by the first king? Haelsuf, what do you think?” 

“I think, my lady, that you should not interrupt my reading.” Haelsuf smirked, but immediately took an expression befitting a deathbed companions after a painful jab between the ribs from Nelya. She skipped through some more pages and stopped at a random entry.

After my third meeting with the Efreet king, or “The Old One” as they call them, I have decided that we cannot live under the same sun. Since they cannot die, they must begone. I am sure that my father sent me here to rid the world of these heretics. He would have known that beyond the sea lay an entire continent filled with people that did not worship him. He is a god after all, he knows such things. There are only a few hundred of us, but that should be enough, the Márid are weak in the use of Jaed. I do not believe problems will arise with sealing them. 

The next entry read;

It is done, they are gone. I admit they put up a fight, some problems arose, problems I should have realised would arise. They posed as us, and sowed a bit of confusion between us, but Pilan called upon Jaed to make our true people recognizable to each other. After that the fighting lessened, it turned into more of a cleansing. It took some time to seal the Márid, they had a strange method of controlling Jaed, but we finished it in the end. 

After that, the writing changed. Whatever else was written in this book, could not be read anymore. 

“This is the life of King Har. The first king…son of the gods” Nelya breathed, as the realisation dawned on her. 

“What do you think the rest of the Jai Halid says?” Haelsuf asked. 

“I do not know, but it must be what Hummayudin is after. I just wonder what use he has for this book…” Nelya drifted off, staring at the book trying to glean the meaning of the strange writing. 

“We should leave this place.” Haelsufs voice brought her back to the present, “Hummayudins force will arrive soon, and we should put as much distance between us and them as is possible.”

Nelya shut the book, and placed it in the saddlebag of her horse, which had been tied to a nearby tree. Turning back towards Haelsuf, she asked, “Where would we go? Should we find a nearby inn?” 

“I do not think that is necessary. This land belongs to a house that would most likely provide us shelter…” Haelsuf spoke slowly, watching her.

“Someone willing to go against the king? There are not many like that, who do you speak of?” Nelya narrowed her eyes, perplexed by the cautious tone of her knight. 

“This land belongs to Lady Zahafara–” Haelsuf began, before being cut off by Nelya. 

“Absolutely not!” She could feel the heat rising to her face. She felt her scalp burn as she recalled the last time they had been together, the touch of…Bah!

“It is the only way, if the king finds that someone has gotten to the Jai Halid before him, he would not rest until he found us. Lady Zahafara would be able to protect us, not even Hummayudin has the audacity to simply stride into House Layell.” 

Nelya opened her mouth to argue back, but quieted upon hearing the steady march of horses as a host of torches could be seen rising from a hill, and heading towards the farm in the distance. 

“That would be King Hummayudin. We must leave now, before they find they have wasted their journey, and begin searching for us.” Haelsuf spoke quickly, already untying his horse.

Watching as her knight put on what Nelya deemed to be a mutinous display, she almost struck him. However, reason told her that he was right, and she would have to bear the humiliation of asking Zahafara for shelter. She always felt awkward around the lady of House Layell. Especially now, seeing as how they had parted last time. 

After spewing a few curses, unfit for a former princess, for being forced into this situation, Nelya untied her horse and climbed into her saddle. The lady and her knight began to ride away from the farm, along the borders of the forest, the book seeming to weigh down its oppressive force on them.