Zoombieverse - Memory 2: The Knife

Epilogue: The King and the Queen

The young god walked through the halls of his home on his way to the council chamber, where his father had summoned him. He had just gotten home from the ancient Lord's realm when a servant informed him of the summons. Knowing that it's best not to let his father wait, he immediately fulfilled his father's wish despite wanting to rest first.

He entered the almost empty chamber and bowed to everyone present. Only the undead King and the Queen were there, sitting at the central table. "Father," the young god said. "You have called for me?"

"Take a seat, my son," the King replied in his usual calm and imposing voice. "Tell me what happened during your absence."

The young god swiftly obeyed his father and recounted everything that had happened to him and his mission barring any forbidden knowledge and unpleasant incidents. The King and Queen listened to his report impassively, only occasionally nodding their heads to indicate that they were listening.

"Is that all?" the King asked after the young god had finished his report.

"Yes, Father. That is everything."

"Are you sure?" the King asked again, a hint of threat in his voice.

Sensing that his father is looking for something specific, the young god said, "I am sure, Father. Is there something specific you wish to discuss?"

"Then tell me, my son," the King said as his green eyes glowed. "Why does the ancient Lord sound upset in his last missive before you left his realm?"

Knowing that his father would not accept any answer that does not fulfill his wish but also knowing that he could not talk about what was being asked of him, the young god braced himself. "I-I don't know, Father."

The young god was suddenly lifted off his chair and suspended a few feet off the ground by his father's magic. The King continued to sit regally at the table as he regarded his wayward son with blazing eyes and an outstretched arm while the Queen silently watched them. "Do not lie to me, my son. Tell me what you know," the King commanded.

"I-I really don't know anything, Father," the young god said, knowing it's futile to struggle against his father's more powerful magic. "P-Perhaps if you tell me what's on the missive, I m-might be able to remember."

The King gestured downwards, slamming the young god to the floor, before standing up and walking slowly towards him. Wheezing from the sudden impact forcing the air out of his lungs, the young god tried to get up but his father's magic forced him back down and held him. "He didn't talk about anything but you," the King said, standing over the young god. "While he did not say anything amiss, the way he talked was different from usual."

The young god tensed up but kept himself from struggling against the magic holding him down. "I-I see. I-It could be anything then. I d-don't really get to see him m-most of the time."

"I told you," the King said, increasing the force of his magic. "I know him well. I know that what's troubling him is you."

Feeling the pressure of the magic holding him suddenly increase and threaten to crush him, the young god's green eyes that were the same as his father's glowed as he instinctively struggled. "I-I'm not sure w-what it could be, F-Father. I d-didn't do anything."

The young god flew through the air and slammed against a wall several feet off the ground. A sword pierced through his stomach and impaled him to the wall as he coughed out blood from the injuries he had sustained. "Stubborn child. This would be easier if you just tell me what you know," the King said, standing calm and composed as he looked at his son.

The young god strained against the sword pinning him. He knew better than to beg as his father hates it the most. "I really don't know, Father. I don't know what you want to know." He tried to pull the sword out with his magic but his father matched him, keeping the sword in place.

"Do we really have to keep doing this, my son?" the King asked as several swords appeared and floated around him.

"N-No, Father," the young god said, and a thin sword flew to pierce his left shoulder. He hissed in pain before talking again. "I really don't know anything." Another sword flew and pierced him in the right leg. He cried out and twisted in pain. "I really didn't do anything." Another sword, another body part, another scream ripped from his throat. A sword pierced him every time he spoke a sentence that did not inform the King of what he wished to know.

"Well?" the King asked after the young god had stopped making a sound. "Are you going to talk or not?"

The young god's body was riddled with swords and his blood pooled below him. He strained to lift his drooping head and moved his mouth to speak but he couldn't make a sound anymore. Wheezing heavily, he gave up and simply looked at his father.

Two pairs of the same eyes stared at each other, one blazing indignantly, the other remaining resolute despite slowly growing dimmer. "Foolish child," the King finally said. He withdrew his swords and swept out of the chamber without another look at his son.

The young god fell face first to the floor and lay broken and bleeding. He sensed someone approaching and moved his head weakly to see who it was.

The Queen knelt down next to her son and quietly said, "You should have just told him what he wanted to know." She turned his body and placed his head on her lap. "You know that he can't really be persuaded otherwise once he makes up his mind."

The young god closed his eyes and breathed for a few moments to summon the strength to speak. He opened his eyes and looked intently at his mother. "I-I c-can't, M-Mother. I m-made a p-promise."

"Not even to me?"

"S-Sorry."

"I see." The Queen's eyes were full of understanding as she stroked the young god's hair that was the same as hers. "I'll talk to him," she sighed. She kissed him on the forehead as her eyes glowed. The young god nodded to his mother and closed his eyes. He felt a pressure on his heart and then felt nothing.