The Great War: Chapter 32
Finding a purpose is never easy
Citizens of Korodon, it is with a heavy heart that I must announce that King Cero was felled in battle against the Guardians.
Samuel taps his quill against his paper, wondering what to write next. He’s been thinking about this ever since they left Fort Etrerr far behind, and now that he’s sitting here everything he wanted to say is now suddenly gone.
He doesn’t want to admit that he wasn’t at his father’s side, nor does he want to make up a story. He doesn’t really know what happened to his father, nor is he currently in the mood to converse with his spirit.
Citizens of Korodon, it is with a heavy heart that I must announce that King Cero was felled in battle against the Guardians. (write something about father here) Being our King's only child, I, Samuel, will assume the throne and continue to navigate all of us through this
War. That word doesn’t sit right with him anymore. This isn’t war. It never was a war. If anything, it’s more of a one-sided argument that the wizards have no hope of winning. They have no navy, they have no combat and magic training, and they have little freedom beyond Korodon.
He stares at the paper, searching for a word, an answer. But his mind comes up short. He’ll have to return to that.
Citizens of Korodon, it is with a heavy heart that I must announce that King Cero was felled in battle against the Guardians. (write something about father here) Being our King's only child, I, Samuel, will assume the throne and continue to navigate all of us through this (war). We fight this for freedom and acceptance by the Guardians, for our magic is a blessing that deserves the chance to blossom. And I will not yield until we have been given reparations for the destruction that the Guardians have already done to our kind.
There’s a knock at the door, interrupting his writing flow.
“Who is it?” Samuel asks, briefly lifting his eyes from the paper before him.
“Devin,” he hears his friend reply.
With a sigh, Samuel returns to his paper, calling, “Come in.”
He hears the door open and close softly as Devin steps into the room, his shoes tapping against the wooden floorboards. The light outside slowly dwindles as the cycle comes to a close, warming the back of his head as he scribbles on the paper before him.
“What are you writing?” Devin asks. Samuel can see his friend’s black robe standing across from him, but he doesn’t look up at him.
“A speech.”
“Is it not too soon to be drafting a speech?”
Samuel shakes his head. So much has happened, his mind is struggling to make sense of it all. That’s not counting his emotional state, either. Writing out his crowning speech is about all he can manage to do without driving himself insane.
“What do you want, Devin?” Samuel asks curtly.
“I came to see how you were doing,” Devin replies.
Samuel steals a glance at his friend’s face. His face is set into a look of concern and unease, something that makes the young king take pause.
“Word has already spread across the ship about your father,” Devin says, folding his arms, “and with you held up in here all this time… every being is concerned.”
Samuel takes in a deep breath. The news isn’t all that surprising; since the king never returned to the ship once they began to sail away, no doubt the crew would have assumed the worst has happened. Once they make it back to Korodon, no doubt rumors will begin to spread like wildfire. All the more reason to prepare his speech in advance.
“Ezra wanted to come see you, too, but I told him not to.”
“He could have come,” Samuel replies.
“Would you like me to get him?” Devin asks. Samuel nods back wordlessly. The three of them have much to discuss.
Devin blinks out of existence for a moment, giving Samuel enough time to glance back down at his paper with dissatisfaction. He’s not really had to give a speech before, let alone one this important. After he talks with Ezra and Devin, maybe he should just start it over.
Devin reappears before the desk, and Samuel looks up to find his friend’s hand placed on Ezra’s shoulder. The Creationist blinks a few times and looks around before landing his gaze on Samuel.
“Hi,” he says, mustering a weak smile.
Samuel laces his fingers together and stares up at the two blankly. “What are we going to do?”
Devin tilts his head to the side. “What do you mean?”
“We have Ezra here,” Samuel says, nodding to the Creationist, “but what are we to do with him? Not to mention the other four we have left to find.”
“Isn’t it three now?” Ezra asks. “Unless Mathew-”
“He fled back to the Guardians,” Samuel tells him. “If he is who we were looking for, then… we have to hope he’ll find his way to Korodon eventually. But, in the event that he does arrive…”
The young king trails off as the three of them ponder the question. What are they to do? Why did the Spirit have to be so cryptic about their purpose?
“Whenever I try to think on this, I can never come to an answer,” Devin eventually says with a heavy sigh.
“I’ve not really given it much thought until now,” Ezra admits with a shrug. “It’s a little too open-ended, though the Spirit of Shadow is known to be rather cryptic, anyways. If He were to simply say what we were to do, we would only have invited bad luck. You’re a royal, Samuel; you should already know all about the Cursed Kings of Korodon.”
Samuel nods slowly. He was told of the Cursed Kings as bedtime stories when he was young, a warning in pressing for divine knowledge that cannot already be found by one’s self.
And speaking of the divine, a line from the Spirit surfaces in his mind, a line that he’s been trying to forget…
A king is not fit for this conflict.
He once again looks down at his speech.
…I, Samuel, will assume the throne…
His nose begins to tingle as he feels tears begin to spring to his eyes. What is he supposed to do?
“Samuel?” Devin asks, concern in his voice.
The young king pinches the bridge of his nose and closes his eyes, taking a moment to calm himself down. He can’t think clearly if he’s all worked up.
Maybe if he starts at the beginning…
A prophecy of seven wizards, one from each magic branch. The king and his guard, a librarian, a pirate, some sort of criminal, a healer, and an Illusionist with mind reading capabilities. Each is to be given a Blessing from the Spirit that is supposed to aid them in the war.
When put that way, it sounds like each being has a role to play. Samuel, the ruler. Devin, captain of the guard. Ezra, the historian and record keeper. The pirate - Mathew - would be knowledgeable in combat and seafaring. The criminal could be logistics. The healer would make sure that the citizens are fed and healthy, and the Illusionist could be the intelligence gatherer and interrogator.
No wonder Korodon said that a king is “not fit” for the war. It’s a lot for Samuel to do all on his own.
“Is everything okay, Samuel?” Devin asks again, cutting through Samuel’s thoughts. He looks up at his friend momentarily, then to Ezra.
Finally, he says to them, “I… would like to have some privacy.”
“As you wish,” Devin says stiffly. It’s clear he doesn’t want to simply leave Samuel alone, but he also can’t disobey an order from the king, either. He gestures for Ezra to follow him to the door, where the two step out into the hallway.
As the door shuts behind them, Samuel crinkles up his bare-bones speech with one hand, not bothering to look at it as he does so, and chucks the ball of paper across the room. Then, he opens one of the desk drawers and retrieves a blank slip. His quill glides across the paper with ease, the words flowing from his mind.
Citizens of Korodon, beings blessed by the Spirit of Shadow, whom our beloved island is named after, I, Samuel, stand before you all this cycle as not only the new king of Korodon, but also as the General of Storm magic.