Tales of PulchraGea, Vol. 1

16: The King is Dead, Long Live the King (Final/3339)

We arrived in Argentum close to sundown. The sky was filled with black rainclouds. As we landed in the town Launch, it began to torrent sheets of water. It was abnormal weather for the area. Something was wrong. Crystal and Robin met us at the entrance to the launch. Their shoes were caked with mud from the path. Their eyes held a lot of sadness. Robin busted out crying and threw herself into Katy's arms. I wasn't sure what was happening, but Katy did because she began to cry too. The pair collapsed to their knees in the mud, where Crystal joined them.

"He can't be!" Katy suddenly cried.

Robin squeezed her all the tighter.

"I'm so sorry!" she said.

Then I knew: Gavin Rinnal had passed while we were away. Katy's adopted father, the one who had raised her was gone.

***

I had assumed the funeral would be a somber affair, but many people were dressed in the colors of whatever tribe was most prominent on their family's patriarchal side. Those who hailed from Argentum had two sects of color, purple and silver. Robin White had advised me to wear purple, as befitted my new status. Doug wore a darker purple suit, Crystal wore a dazzling emerald dress, and Katy wore an outfit completely obscured underneath a large, hooded, silver cloak with a lacy purple trim. The Law Officers of all the towns, including Bridge Parker and Robin White, and their respective deputies wore a plain grey uniform of office with stripes on the shoulders, around the cuffs, and down the leg denoting which town they were from, as well as a neckerchief or ascot with their ancestral colors. Gavin Rinnal was not the most popular king, according to Robin, but he had the peoples' respect for his role at the very least.

It was a strange ceremony. In PulchraGea the dead are burned and the ashes scattered to return to the land. The kings' ashes, however, are put in a pressure chamber and turned into a diamond prism. At the ceremony for a king, a hologram of white light is projected through it to form an image of him. The image diffracts into the colors of each tribe, skipping Orange due to the way the prism is created. Apparently it's a nearly lost art, used only on deceased kings once every hundred years, kept alive to be used one time ever few generations. No words are spoken the whole time; it's as if the entire delegation knows exactly what to do. When the rainbow hologram comes on, though, everyone in attendance started cheering but me and Katy. Katy's face was stolid and drawn. It was impossible to tell her mood. As for me, despite all I'd gone through I still wasn't ready to take this responsibility.

I joined the Law Officers as they took the stage after the cheering died down. They led me to the forefront just as the sun was falling from the sky. Reds and oranges streaked along the horizon until they too faded away. Someone dressed in a hooded robe, who was apparently a priest or scholar, stepped forward and began speaking in ancient Sirren-thal. He gave a speech on the deeds of Gavin Rinnal, his chivalry, strength, faithfulness to God. Then it was my turn. I was pushed forth. My stomach roiled; I didn't want this, but there was no way I could back out of it. Finally, the last part came. The priest addressed the crowd, asking if there was any among them who objected to my appointment as King or doubted my ability to lead. It was purely ceremonial. No one in the history of PulchraGea had ever objected. For the first time, someone stepped forward and flung their oversized ornate purple cloak aside and drew their sword.

"I do!" shouted Katherine Elizabeth Greyson in Sirren-thal. "I doubt the will of Patrick Allen to lead the people of Narakh-sha! I doubt his resolve to serve them as Chosen King, the avatar of God on Sirrenth! I doubt his strength to protect them in times of need and his moral capacity to submit to the will of the People and the judgement of God!"

Startled gasps rippled like a shockwave through the crowd. This was unprecedented and no one knew how to react, least of all me. I looked at Robin for an acting cue, but she and Bridge just shrugged helplessly. Luckily the priest recovered quickly. Sirren-thal wasn't commonly spoken anymore, so the priest switched to the English-like Narakh-thal.