Arakim's Legacy(#Wattys2015)

Chapter 16

Standing guard and looking at the three walls of the royal office, albeit beautiful walls was not my idea but since that day the Master questioned me extensively, he had kept me close to him barely letting me out of his sight, and watched me like a hawk. For what? I had no idea. This was one of the few times he had left me alone with only an acolyte present in the room.

A lot of things had happened in the last three weeks since that day. Things that were appalling and didn't bear repeating. Things that if I hadn't seen the aftermath myself would be doubting them to be true.

The people of Sokroto province were still mourning their slain family members. It was very merciful for the master to offer his protection here in the palace. And now the grounds outside the palace walls were filled with hundreds of survivors from the massacre at that province and any person from neighbouring provinces who feared for their lives. Everyday more people arrived.

How could Prince Arakim do such terrible things? We all knew he was a bit strange but he'd never been cruel before. But to do what he did at Sokroto? That was still unbelievable. But the people claimed they saw the prince brandishing that sceptre of his, killing any that stood in his way; men, women, and children, for no other reason than they refused to join in his crusade against Master. And that was surprising in itself. This was the same prince that spared the armed guards that fought him on the day he disappeared but went about slaughtering innocent women and children. Anyway Master had truly been benevolent as he promised. Offering sanctuary to who needed it and protection to those unable to travel to the palace.

Acolytes were now placed with a contingent of soldiers all over the kingdom to protect the people especially the border provinces and also to bring the word of the one true god, Osaron the Benevolent to them. Prayers to the god Osaron were now the norm. They were said at first light for an hour, midday for two hours and at dusk during the twilight hours for three hours, asking for his protection and mercy. And any who disobeyed or caught not praying was severely punished. Some lives had been lost.

The only reason people initially objected to the prayers was because after each prayer session especially at dusk, they became unbearably tired and weak. Sick people would get sicker, children could get sick and died sometimes. The worst were the elderly. Master told us that it was our sinful natures that were making us sick and the more sinful you were the sicker you got or the more you resisted the blessing of Osaron, still loyal to throne then the sicker you got.

The prince had not made another appearance since Sokroto. Every person had been charged with reporting any sightings of the prince and any who still had allegiance to him would be thrown into the dungeons after being severely punished or even worse lose their heads.

How the prince got hold of his sceptre was still baffling. Because the last time I saw it, it was on the floor in the throne room and how was he able to pass all the guards to retrieve it without raising an alarm? And how could he do magic? Nobody could do magic in the kingdom. But to question was same thing as committing treason or blasphemy.

The acolyte sitting in front of the massive dark oak desk that took up almost the entire wall across the room in front of the small paned window round at the top, turned his head when the elaborately carved and polished door smoothly slid open letting in the Master. And the lone guard in the room immediately went on his knees chanting. The Master without sparing him a glance walked to stand in front of the large ornate lit fireplace, staff in hand, white robe flowing behind him.

For a few moments, the only sounds heard in the room was the crackling and popping of the burning logs in the fireplace.

Master, said the grey-robed acolyte, joining the Master in front of the fireplace, head slightly bent, have they gotten past the wards yet?