Arakim's Legacy(#Wattys2015)

Chapter 14

In the Throne room at the Damawa Palace, the disarray caused on the day the prince vanished from their very sight was still present, visible for all to see. Not that any other than the new Master and his acolytes stayed in the room anymore. The few guards and servants that were allowed into the room, such as himself were all very loyal servants of the new Master.

He had no idea what they did to deserve such an honour other than carrying out the Master's orders without protest. Those who dared to protest ended up in the dungeons. And moreover he had vague recollections of those orders and believed it was a testament to the great benevolence of his new god. Nevertheless he was proud to be one of the chosen few to serve his new god. Maybe one day in the not so distant future, master will deem him worthy to become an acolyte like those three acolytes in the room with him. He had no idea how many acolytes were there but they all have the same appearance; different shades and length of straight blond hair, several shades of blue eyes, medium height or slightly above, wearing different colours of robe and sashes but the Master was still the most beautiful.

Everything in the room had essentially remained the same except for the several cushioned high-backed chairs taken from the royal eating room arranged in front of the dais, used for when the master had an audience or held a meeting with his acolytes or during the daily prayers to their new god.

Standing guard in front the royal office entrance gave him a clear view of the whole room. He watched the three acolytes circling one of the two columns in middle of the room. The column closest to him, looking down at the sceptre on the floor, keeping a safe distance from it while whispering amongst themselves. The prince's sceptre that was left behind when the Master sent the prince away after he rejected their new god.

Why the prince would refuse to accept and honour the new god was baffling. One could never understand the people of royal birth. Unlike the prince he was happy to serve such a beautiful and loving Master and would not want the same fate as the prince anyways.

The acolytes were all beautiful in their cropped blond hair and blue eyes just like the master but the Master's beauty surpassed theirs. They stopped walking around the column and looked his way. Trying very hard not to fidget under their intent gazes because the Master hated when they made unnecessary movements. He looked down at their feet to avoid gazing into their eyes when his landed on the cracked base of the column where the prince had landed on when he was blasted with the Master's power.

The royal masons were yet to be summoned to repair the damage because no one could get close to it without getting harmed. The last person that tried to touch it after that fateful day almost died when he was seared with a bolt of lightning. The only thing that saved his life was that the force of the bolt threw him several feet away and since then no one had made any attempt to get close even the Master. They marked the safe area with black paint on the white marble floor. And there was always an acolyte watching the sceptre. For what he could not even imagine.

Looking back up, he watched one of the acolytes, the oldest-looking one wearing a grey robe and black sash approached him. He immediately broke out in cold sweat under his chainmail, praying to the one true god, Osaron, The Benevolent that he had done no wrong. Because the severe punishments given to offenders were horrific and even he had carried out some of these punishments. He was greatly relieved when the acolyte walked past him to enter the royal office behind him after the Master had bid him to enter after a brief knock.

He glanced towards the dais at the throne that stood empty since the fateful day. The last time king Edulla occupied it and since then had not been seen, at least by him. Some said that they saw him and he was alive but very weak. That he was confined to his quarters in the west wing of the palace and only the master and his acolytes had visited him. Others said he was locked up in the dungeon away from the common area. But they all agreed he was alive and would be released the instant he accepted and honoured the one true god but so far he was being very stubborn.

Maybe he should make sure which story was the truth and which one was the lie. What? No. What was I thinking? Why would I risk my position and the Master's wrath to find out? That was not me. The Master would do the right thing for our king.

The door behind him opened and he was immediately filled with the master's benevolence.

As soon as the master stepped in to the Throne Room, all the people in the room dropped to their knees in supplication and in one voice chanted; Osaron The Benevolent, praise to you for your glory and magnificence, I pray that you find me worthy to serve you. And waited a few seconds for his blessing before standing to resume their former positions.

The Master never paused in his movements, walking forwards to the two acolytes, both attired in blue robes and white sashes and stopped just before the black line for the two to join him. Bowing their heads, for no one's head should be higher than the Master's. And to make sure of that, bowing your head when standing pretty much guaranteed it because to break the law was to suffer the Master's wrath.

There was dead silence in the room after the chanting so that when the master spoke in his strange tongue, he could hear him but was surprised he could understand him too and almost gave himself away when he gasped. But since no one paid him any attention, he relaxed and listened to the conversation.

"Acolyte Osasenaga tells me that there's been no change.'' The Master said.

"Yes, Master.'' The youngest-looking one answered, bowing his head in assent.

"What do you think, Acolyte Osamuye?'' Turning to face the last acolyte. "Do you suppose he's still in this realm or dead?''

He? What he? And dead? Who was dead?

"Master,'' bowing deeply, 'nobody could survive those mighty blasts from you.'' Over done reverence in his voice.

"Stop.'' Softly, raising his left hand impatiently while the right held his staff with the crystal atop of it and a big ornate ring with sapphire stone just like his eyes on his forefinger. "How do you explain this, acolyte?'' A frown marring his beautiful face pointing to the sceptre.

"Master, l apologise for my ineptitude.'' Acolyte Osamuye said, going down on one knee, head bowed.

"And you, Acolyte Osanoherum?'' looking at the second acolyte.

"Master, I think he is not in this realm or we would have noticed but whether he's alive or not I cannot say.''

"I agree with you.'' Master said to the acolyte's delight. "But we need to confirm that. And as soon as possible.'' Turning back to the acolyte, disappointment on his face. "How are you going to do that?'' warning him to be careful.

"We need more power, Master.'' Still kneeling.

Master nodded. "Good. Make preparations. I'm going to talk to the grandfather again.'' Beginning to walk away only to stop suddenly and turned to look around the room.

"What is it, Master?'' The two acolytes approached cautiously.

"Can you feel it?'' he asked them.

"Feel what, Master?'' looking around the room, searching like the master but saw nothing.

"Someone is here with us.'' He said, turning to look at the guard, who stared back blankly at them. The master walked up to him and spoke. The guard fell on his knees, chanting.