The Exiled King

Chapter 6 - The Escaped Prince

The sky was azure and cloudless, betraying nothing of what had happened the night before. Leyon, weary and muddied and sorely lacking sleep, wandered aimlessly around Kenstel, drawing strange looks from the townsfolk. With each passing moment, the dread built up within him.

Surely they will be here any minute... He thought restlessly, though he knew that the chances were slim after a day. Under most circumstances, it did not take more than a few hours of hard riding to reach Kenstel from Sor'othi.

Leyon had found a stable and paid a small sum to keep his horse there for a day, but decided against renting a room at an inn to spare the money he had. He'd made a habit of carrying a few silver seguns with him wherever he went, but had never anticipated that it might come in handy in a situation like this.

His steps took him through the city and to a quiet garden within one of the Peloan temples scattered around Sanobar. The temple was a tall tower built of white marble, surrounded by a meticulously designed garden. Leyon stepped into the surprisingly spacious tower interior. A narrow spiral staircase curled up along the side and a large statue of Pelos dominated the remaining space, the head nearly brushing the wooden beams of the ceiling. Leyon peered up at the emotionless face of the statue, feeling nothing but a hollow sensation within him.

At the feet of the statue, a thick violet cushion was laid down upon the wooden floorboards. Leyon stepped over and knelt on it, bringing his hands to his chest and bowing his head and closing his eyes. He muttered words of prayer, then knelt for a moment longer, hoping for something. A sign of sorts... anything to prove that Pelos truly cared for his creations and stood with them. Leyon waited with bated breath, then waited some more.

Well... what was I really expecting? He thought, opening his eyes and standing again.

Leyon had never had the same faith in a god he'd never seen as the devout Sanobarians, his family included. He'd never voiced those thoughts and had attended religious ceremonies and worship, but felt only empty numbness and confusion inside.

He stepped outside, carefully shutting the door, and took a seat on one of the numerous benches situated around the garden. The sun was a pleasant warmth upon his face and he leaned back, shutting his eyes and tried to sort out his thoughts.

Father said we should meet in Kenstel, so the only reasons they would not show up is if... they didn't... make it... or if they were somehow held up. But that likelihood shrinks by the minute.

I cannot just sit here in the vain hope that they somehow show up... if they have truly left me, that leaves the responsibility of the kingdom upon my shoulders. I cannot sit back and abandon Sanobar in its time of need.

"Sir, are you alright?" A soft voice interrupted his thoughts and he opened his eyes to see a child standing next to him, dressed in shapeless grey robes. The child looked no older than ten or eleven years, but spoke in astoundingly formal speech.

The boy looked at him with sightless, pale eyes, but a smile graced his small face.

"Y-Yes... I am fine, thank you..." Leyon answered, realising that he'd never heard the boy approach, then he frowned and tentatively asked, "Pardon me for my rudeness, but... can you see me?"

The boy shook his head and said with a grin, "No, sir, I cannot. Not with the eyes of mortals, anyways. When I was initiated to the order, Pelos graced me with otherworldly vision. And I see that you've been particularly blessed by Pelos—your aura is so bright!"

Leyon scoffed.

"I've been blessed?! My entire family was murdered last night and you call that blessed?!" He cried, his voice faltering at the last word and he slumped forward, his hands over his face.

The boy's eyes widened and he stepped forward and gently patted Leyon's leg, apologising, "I-I'm so sorry to hear that!"

"Ic dei vyl untoth iie reca ai Ether deseuam," He whispered a short prayer for the deceased, then explained, "When I said Pelos blessed you, I was referring to the magic in your blood. To prevent the same tragedy from occurring again, Pelos sealed away most magic in humans—yet here you stand. You have a strong power... please don't betray Lord Pelos' trust in you."

I shouldn't have lashed out at him... it's not his fault, Leyon thought, trying to calm the rising rage.

He stood up suddenly and muttered, "I'm really sorry about snapping at you. I've got to get going now..."

Without a backwards glance, Leyon quickly left the temple garden, his heart in turmoil and restlessness burning within him.

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As evening fell and the sky darkened, Leyon found a respectable inn and paid for a room for the night. Using up all but a silver segun, he also procured some bread and smoked fish, as well as a small bag of grains intended for his horse.

His room was a modest one, illuminated by a single lantern, and contained a small wooden desk and chair and a bed in the corner. The corners were dark and the ceiling sloped, but the highlight of the room was the little window overlooking the city. The magelight lamps throughout the city had lit, bathing the streets in a golden glow that held the darkness at bay.

Leyon put his items on the desk and ate a little of the bread and fish, then he removed the outer layer of his clothes and fell on the bed. He didn't dare think of how many critters shared the bed with him and tried to ignore the prickly straw against his back. Weariness quickly won and he sank into restless slumber.

Images of that fateful night flashed behind his eyes as he was trapped in a terrible nightmare, reliving the awful events as he was powerless to change anything. He awoke with a start, breathing heavily and drenched in sweat. He gripped the sheets tightly and curled up, his eyes reddening. 

If I was blessed... Why couldn't I save them?! I ran... I just ran like a coward!

And deep under the cover of darkness, he finally let out all the pent up emotions—pain, anger and a crippling sadness. He finally mourned for his lost family.

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