The Kingdom of Noitcif

Chapter Nine - Hyperion

  Early the next morning, Camilla walked the half mile to the ranch where she worked to gather her horse and to inform them that, effective immediately, she wouldn't be able to work there any longer. The ranch owners were sorry to see her go, but Camilla knew the time had come to return to Noitcif. She and Espen both felt an urgency to leave this home and town they'd known for so long. The conversation with Rosalind gave them a sense of foreboding, and Camilla was especially affected, since she had a hunch as to what was going on.

  While his 'mom' was away, Espen quickly packed all of the essential items that he anticipated they would need to take along. They planned on coming back in a few days to get the rest of their things, but for now, Camilla had stressed that the sooner they got out of the Base World, the better. It felt strange to be stuffing his things inside a duffel bag, preparing to move to a fantasy realm in another dimension, but it was his life now, and there was no denying that at this point.

  When Camilla returned, Espen hoisted the belongings to the doorstep of their house and cried, "Tarquin!" loud and clear.

  This time, he didn't take his eyes away from the road, and in little time, the gentle click click click of Verbum's hooves were heard, and the royal messenger appeared around the bend.

  "I am going to assume you are ready to depart early, Prince Estevan," he said with a grin, dismounting off of his steed while it was still trotting.

  "Some things came up," Camilla told him vaguely, locking the door of their house while slinging a satchel over her shoulder. "Espen, you ride with Tarquin," she urged as she untied her own steed, Charta (whom she had tacked up that morning), from a nearby tree. "If anything goes wrong, you'll be safer in his hands than mine. And Tarquin, let's take the back way to the portal."

  The messenger shrugged, somewhat puzzled, although the corners of his mouth were still turned upwards.

  When they arrived in Noitcif, they flew straight to the castle and were greeted with open arms by all the staff there. Camilla busied herself with unpacking their things into one of the lavish suites located in a turret of the castle. She urged Espen to go with Tarquin once again, as the messenger had noted on the ride over that King Hyperion was even weaker today.

  As they entered the room, the teen realized that indeed, Hyperion looked more sickly, even from afar. His bright hazel eyes were scarcely open, and he was fully laying down on the soft bed instead of propped up like the last time. However, at the sight of his son, his gaze became more alert and he tried to sit up, but Tarquin gently held him in place.

  "Do not strain yourself, my king," he whispered, "you must save your energy."

  Hyperion nodded, and merely beckoned Espen to sit in the chair beside his bed.

  "My son," he said quietly, his eyes both joyful and sad, "I am afraid your time to take my place may be soon... there was so much more I had wanted to share with you, but I may not have that luxury." The king's voice had faded to a whisper.

  "Oh," was all Espen could force out as he suddenly felt the crushing weight of responsibility come upon him. He also noticed that he was blinking back tears in response to his father's words.

  The king seemed to fathom all this as he cast a sideways glance at the boy. His heart was heavy, but he had to encourage him. "You have nothing to worry about. I have asked the duke – Lysander Rain – to take you under his wing for your first year of ruling, and then be your right-hand man after that. He was my second-in-command, and I trust him like no other. You will be in good hands."