The Face Of The Blessed

⚔️ NETTLE

Elha's witch doctor, Phiplo appeared in the court, hearing Kleeia's scream. He always heard people's screams out of fear, sickness or evil possession.

Phiplo knelt and started doing his work. He stretched his right-hand north and closed his eyes. A few nettle leaves and a ginger root appeared. He then opened his eyes, feeling the herbs in his palm.

Kleeia was a fan of these kinds of magic things but she did not react that time as she had a thunderbolt, a very shocking one.

Phiplo, the old witch doctor, was a placid man. He never cared what was happening around him. Even now when Kleeia cried her eyes out. He mushed the leaves in his palm with a few drops of water he already had in a pot, tied around his waist. He poured the liquid into Gefroi's mouth and cast a spell, "nettle, nettle steal king's Life from the devil."

An hour passed with no signs of life in the King's, Kleeia's body.

She looked at the face of Phiplo for an answer whether her beloved father was alright, but he did not open his mouth since he cast the spell.

Kluyot and Ploira had already arrived with some knights and the remaining, loyal ministers. Kluyot wept, he tried to wake his father up but for no use. His little hands stroked his father's somewhat giant fingers.

Ploira stood at the same place where she had arrived an hour before with no movements, watery eyes looking at her lionized helpmate.

Ministers prayed to the almighty to give back life to the King, but deep inside they desired to occupy the throne, the money, the position and the queen Ploira. Money was major to them, indeed. but the fame and position played with their minds. Some prayed hard to get back the King and some prayed to kill him. You could not tell who desired what by seeing their face or reading their lips, it was deep inside, very deep, like an ocean's treasure, mostly venom.

And Kleeia knew it, most of the ministers were just a lifeless doll moved by the key called money, they had no talents besides killing the poor for money brutally in the name of tax.

Nettle had done its work. Gefroi moved his hand, a slight sign that The king was still alive. Kluyot noticed it first, he told Phiplo then. Phiplo who sat on the red tiles with bare feet just smiled knowing that the King would survive, he knew it. But for the others, the heartbeat did not dance to its usual rhythm.

Phiplo asked everyone to leave, he had a ritual to do, To welcome the most humble but fragile soul back to the kingdom.

Disappointed ministers left even before asking them to leave, the loyal ones stayed in the dark court but left when asked to leave.

A strong, cold breeze welcomed them all, out of the court. They all stood there waiting to see their king.

Kleeia wanted to learn the magical art of casting spells and witchcraft, after the success of Phiplo in making her father alive again.

The ritual happened for 4 long hours. Kluyot slept on Kleeia's lap who sat on the court's stairs. He was glad that He could practice Rainmaking the next day with his father.

The king and the witch doctor came out, opening the door of the court, the tiles of the court turned to their original colour. The red colour on Gefroi's body disappeared and his lips returned to their original state.

Kluyot woke up to the noise of the ministers cheering the king up. Ploira finally had a smile on her face, the sun had already begun to spread its light in all directions.

Kleeia cried and ran to her father, hugged him. The little Kluyot copied what his Big sister had done. Gefroi smiled at his ravishing queen.

"The dawn of the Elha should never be dimmed out, get ready for the war, prepare our Army, the cavalry, the dragon squad, the sworders. Let us face whatever this universe gives us. Let's unite." The king exclaimed to the ministers and the rising sun.

"Sure my lord, we will prepare the troops by tomorrow." said one of the ministers.

"No, prepare them from today, do not even waste a single second." Ordered Gefroi.

Kleeia had confidence that they would win the war, the very first war for Kleeia. She smiled at her father. 

The ministers rushed to the troop camps. They were ought to do this despite whether they liked it or not. The witch doctor disappeared.

The royal family stood alone outside the court. Kleeia adored the rising sun. She told her father, "I do not want to talk about him..but"

"Dupom?"

"Yes."

"It is not very easy to send him out, I will try"

"What? Why? I-"

"You know, he stole my life and sent it to the devil after knowing that he was caught red-handed for leaking pieces of information"

"But how?"

"He is a wizard, Kleeia. The air can too act favour to him.

"How do we remove him?"

"It is going to be difficult, Kleeia. I will do whatever I can." Saying this Gefroi and Ploira entered the castle.

Kleeia and Kluyot went to the castle's river, they wanted to smell some fresh cold water and flower's nectar. The sword makers had already arrived, the king's order worked well. The camp near the castle seemed crowded with people who made armour for the knights.

"Can we go there and introduce ourselves to them?" said Kluyot.

"Not now, I have class today, Kluyot. They will be here for a month or more so let's meet them another day."

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WORD COUNT : 1039

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