Unobtainable

Unbelievable

     Hours had passed since the incident, the king was relaxing on his throne comfortably. His eyes were lost, flashing in and out of reality; his mind struggling with the thoughts of his action. He had no choice, he needed to protect the world he's built, but maybe public execution was the wrong choice? He could hear their screams as loud now as he could when he had his back turned, walking back toward his castle. He dismissed anybody who walked in, as he needed to focus on his thoughts first. After a few moments of dread with the screams of his citizens in his ears, he stood up and stepped down from his throne, resting himself on one knee as he lowered his head, he mumbled in a low voice to himself; "Great goddess forgive me". His voice trailed off toward the end. Minutes later he stood up, sighing as he lumbered back up to his throne, sitting down and looking down toward the entrance. He called out, his usual authoritative expressiveness back in his voice, "KAIYA. To me." Moments later a girl would step over to him, a stoic expression on her face as she stepped into view and spoke, her voice matching her facial expression's lack of emotion.
     "Yes, father?" She took a few steps closer before halting at the foot of the throne and kneeling respectfully before the king.
    "Fetch me, Commander James, please. He should be back at the academy.." The King's voice grew a lot softer, a lot more like he was talking to someone he cared for. His gaze never looked in her eyes though. The girl nodded and walked off, all while the King seemed to stare down at the ground; either lost in thought or just simply saddened by his deeds. He sat in silence for what felt like an eternity before he picked his head up and looked at a picture on the wall by him. The picture was of a woman, with long red hair, pale skin, and bright eyes. She was wearing a long blue dress and sat with both her hands resting atop one another on her knee. It was a brilliantly painted portrait of the queen. He looked at it and let out a sigh, mumbling words to himself, "If only you were here to point out my flaws...I try to be as perfect as can be...but now everything I do feels evil". He looked at it, his hand reaching up toward the large picture that took up almost the entire wall for a moment, he paused and took a deep breath before turning away from the portrait and heading back to his throne. In a few moments, he was seated, waiting for his daughter to return.
     A few hours passed after he sat down, but that was to be expected. The commander he asked for wasn't currently stationed in this kingdom. He was stationed on a secret mission elsewhere, something that no longer needed attention. The king needed him here, he trusted him with planning a response to the recent events. Should they reprimand the soldiers who acted out? Or only punish the citizens? Maybe they should try to do both, it was difficult to think. Oz kept himself seated, and continued to wait. Another hour passed, and the doors to the throne room suddenly opened. Immediately, his eyes shot up from the ground and observed who walked in. It was exactly who he'd been waiting for, commander James: a tall dark-haired mastermind of battle and commander of the techno-magic division in the army. No words were exchanged between the two, there was a strange looming silence as the commander kneeled before the king. After twenty long silent seconds, the king finally spoke up, "Commander. Tell me exactly what happened..." His voice trailed off as he prepared himself to hear the claims of the commander.
     "My king...the people grew restless, angry, and emotional. Unable to control themselves, they injured one of our men. In retaliation, we set out to apprehend the ones who were throwing stones and even magic spells. As we marched, more of the crowd attacked." James stood up, no longer kneeling he paced back, his voice lifted in aggression and volume as he spoke. "We had no choice but to protect our men! Fighting back, but I promise you, sire, we were not on the offensive! We only sought to protect them until the mage brought over her poison magic to put them to sleep. We held back as many as we could, but lost a multitude of our own in the process. The church's mage arrived later than expected..." he paused after that, looking at the king for a moment before looking off to the side as if he was struggling to say what was on his mind. "It was as if...they were walking slower on purpose. They arrived and summoned their gas. I believe civilian deaths were only the fault of the church...that gas was not all non-lethal. Some must have had...unpredictable reactions to its effects." He stopped his talking, looking up at the king before kneeling once more. He bowed his head as he spoke a lot softer, "But...I am not here to cast blame. I apologize for this event...my king." He kept his head down, not moving a muscle.
     The King sat and listened closely to every word. He was inclined to believe every word...but he knew better than to take it as one hundred percent truth. Complete truth was an impossibility. The human mind will always skew things to their ideals. Even then, what else could he do but believe it? The people were in unrest now, especially after such a tragedy. Nobody would talk to the king and explain another side, he had no choice. This path would lead to tragedy, and he had to simply embrace that. Moments after the commander ended his short retelling, the king spoke in his commanding tone, "The people have turned to...unforgivable means...the church...I will speak to the church. But this act must never spread. These moments of unrest, instability...and weakness...must never become known to our neighbors. Close the west border. Nobody leaves without specific requests from me. Inform the other borders of the west towns...little mishap. I'll have priests sent to them. Their holy magic can detect lies...see that nobody from that town leaves this kingdom. Visitors are restricted to merchants only for trade. You are dismissed..." He let out a deep sigh. Unforgivable? He thought. His choice of words was tyrannical. This town, a rebellion, could not be allowed now. Tensions were growing with their northern neighbors: The kingdom of Gjeti. Their king sees him as weak. Someone unfit to rule, simply because of his darker skin tone. That kingdom was waiting to strike, and all he needed to do was show them he wasn't ready for it. He watched as Commander James stood and began to step away, speaking his goodbye. Words that the King completely ignored, lost in his thoughts. He rested his elbow on the side of his throne, his head held up by his fist on his temple. His eyes stared at the door, as he let his mind take over. What was to happen? He didn't know if his choice was the right one, or just yet another misguidance given to him by his heart.