WBotFAW Ep 31: Orientation

 

Episode 31: Orientation

    Atticus looked over at Samuel and Rebecca. No way. It was impossible. They were letting their paranoia get the best of them. There was no way it could be General Saarsgard. Atticus looked back over at Dakota, who was racking her mind to tell them everything she could.
    “Thank you, Dakota, for everything,” Samuel built up to it, “But can I ask you for one more favor?”
    “Depends…Is the favor a ride into town?”
    Samuel looked down as if he was expecting her to say no.
    “Of course, I have a pick-up truck that can fit all ya’ll.”
    Dakota took them into the small town. “The town square is actually in Kill Devil Hills,” Dakota informed them of the safe zone hierarchy, “There live our two leaders, Alana and Adam Cutler…”
    “Husband and wife?”
    “Brother and sister.”
    “One of the Safe Zone laws is to bring refugees into the Town Square immediately.”
    “And here we thought we were getting a free ride,” Annie whispered to Marcus who were both sitting in the back bench.
    “They can help you get to the cape.” Dakota brought them to the town square, which used to be the         Wright Brothers National Memorial Visitor Center. Dakota pulled into the practically empty parking lot and parked, turning the car off and getting out along with everyone else. They got inside easy enough. The front doors were unlocked. There was no security, just a giant conference table in the middle of the floor, filled with loose paper and old leather-bound books. All the chairs around the conference table were empty, except for two. Dakota brought them in and they all had a seat around the table. Samuel and Atticus sat next to Dakota, who introduced them to Adam and Alana.
    “…Right…So one of the first things we like to do-”
    “For new member orientation…” Alana interrupted her brother.
    “…Is…” Adam tried to go on now uninterrupted, “go around and say your name, where you’re from, and what you did for a living before the outbreak…”
Samuel answered for the group, “We’re not staying.”
    “What?” Quinn spoke out.
    “Wait a second…” the rest of the group started to stir, “We haven’t decided anything yet.”
    Marcus stood up at the other end of the table from his seat next to Annie, “I’m with Samuel, we can’t stay here.”
    Everybody started arguing with each other and Atticus stood up and let his temper loose on the Zone council, “NOW LISTEN UP! Nobody has to come with us! …But Dr. Chase, along with myself, Dr. Pratt, and Marcus are leaving and continuing our mission to the prison.”
    “A prison?” Adam commented, while he, his sister, and Dakota watched these strangers argue amongst themselves.
    “A prison with tall concrete walls and miles of barbed wire fencing…” Marcus told them, ‘”A prison that is holding my brother.”
    “Well, if that is your decision,” Adam told them, “We will not stand in your way, but we cannot afford to give out any more supplies. So, if you are in need of anything you’re going to have to figure something out…”
    “Like what?”
    “Well, we have numerous services set up for trading or working within the Safe Zone,” Alana instructed them as she shuffled papers around in her hands and stacked them together. “If you would just step right this way we can start the process.”
    “What if we want to stay?” Quinn stood up.
    “Then please come over to this side of the table and take a copy of these forms,” Adam responded.
    Quinn stood up along with Chambers, Tyrell, and then Rebecca. Samuel was shocked; Atticus was also completely thrown off guard. He felt like a fool mentioning her name along with Samuel and Marcus before, making her decision for her was not what he intended to do; and if she was just choosing to stay out of spite, he would feel even worse for affecting her like that.
    “Rebecca…” Atticus insisted.
    “I’m sorry, but this is better than a prison, and they said they needed doctors…” Rebecca apologized as she followed the line to get her papers and put her name down on the new member sign-in sheet. Nobody else in the group before her had recognized it on the sheet, the name, why would they? …All three of them joined the group after Samuel’s apartment; they didn’t even catch the last name, but Rebecca did. The moment she saw it she knew…
    What were the odds?
    “Samuel…” she muttered as she let go of the pen strung onto the clipboard and took it off the table,     “You have to see this.” Rebecca tossed the sign-in sheet on the clipboard over to Samuel. Samuel read the document, he looked up at Rebecca, “…That’s his hand writing...”
    “Whose?” Adam asked.
    “My son.”
    “Warren Chase?”
    “You know him?”
    “I know every person on that list. He came in a couple of days ago, same face as you…Seventeen year old boy with a dog….”
    Samuel was too relieved to catch it, but Annie did, “A dog?”
    “…Yeah…your kid calls him Jackson,” Alana confirmed, “How could you forget a name like that for a dog?” She shuffled through the file cabinet behind them and pulled out Warren’s file. “We sent him to Nags Head, under Gibbons and Slate, food recovery…because of the dog…”
    Samuel got up from his seat and walked over to Dakota, Alana, and Adam “Can you take me to him?”
    Adam looked at Alana, they were still processing the forms from Quinn, Chambers, and Tyrell, and helping Atticus and Marcus with their resupply forms. Marcus remarked only to Atticus, “Never thought the apocalypse would require so much paperwork…”
    Dakota felt compelled to help Samuel and told him that she would take him to go find his son. Annie joined him as they were leaving. 

    Rebecca sat at the middle of the table, now undecided. Her heart was conflicted with her mind. Logically, she would be safer here; it just made more sense for her to stay here altogether. But when she saw Samuel’s son’s name on the list it felt like a sign. She was a rational woman who had a reliable instinct most of the time, but this time she had feelings that clashed with her instinct, and the only sense she could make of it was that it had to be fate…Samuel would lead them to humanity’s salvation. The choice came down to faith versus reason.
Rebecca sat there without making a decision, and let the world unfold around her.
    When Tyrell handed his papers in, Adam and Alana were thoroughly impressed, “Oh we have been looking for you!” Adam wasted no time and took Tyrell out of the town area and over to the bay where there was a flooding oil refinery. It was leaking black sludge into the bay, dead fish and crab littered the swampy beach. “This is priority one.” Adam showed him.
    They were not as impressed with Chambers’ forms as they were with Tyrell’s. “Look,” he said to Alana, trying to plead his case, “I can keep this place safe. I can be security.”
    “Sorry Mr. Kahn, but we don’t need protection against the zombies, we’re on an island…”
    “You always need protection, even if it’s from yourselves.”
    “Well, we have a sheriff from Virginia here for that very reason. Would you like to meet him? He is always looking for new deputies.”
    “Aw hell, why not… Everybody’s gotta pull their weight; I’m a firm believer in that. I’ll be a pig.”
    “Okay, Ms. Quinn, would you like to come with me, and gentlemen, Adam will be back shortly to go over your requests.”
    Atticus and Marcus stared at Chambers as he left without any explanation on why he was abandoning the group. Up until now he had never shown the slightest inclination of not wanting to go to the prison. Maybe that was just because the prospect of a Safe Zone had never been entertained. So, they let him go, they let them all go.
    Atticus really did not care, he knew there would be a day when he would be completely alone; he knew he would be the last man standing. This place had all the superficial comforts of life back before the outbreak; it was misleading. They did not take extra precaution outside of destroying the bridge. Hypothetically, if a zombie got over, perhaps on a boat, or meandered across the ocean floor, there would be nothing stopping them from tearing this “Safe Zone” apart. That was reason enough not to stay here for Atticus. As soon as they got their supplies and met up with Samuel and his son they would be on their way.

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Legendary Kingdoms: Chapter 2

 

CHAPTER 2 – THE TRAGIC KING

Mitakahn missed home. It had been over four years since he enrolled in the knighthood, and apart from the few breaks between sessions, the prince had spent the majority of those years at the academy; away from home…his home…and his people, known throughout all of MagnaThora as the Pride. His body still ached from the basilisk, but the wounds were healing.  

He looked out across the rolling blue deep as far as the eye could see in any direction, his sea voyage coming to an end. The massive wooden frigate with an abundance of sails carried him across the Neiad Bay. Rather than send a royal escort, the king contracted a premiere merchant vessel. This meant something to Mitakahn. Time was of the essence. 

Ahead of them spawned land, more importantly a city, and the largest seaport in the north. Soon he would land in Port Caliber. The City of Caliber was built upon merchant prosperity, its downtown district now reached the same heights as its sister city, Zepathorum. 

 Up ahead for Mitakahn meant simultaneously bringing home his ugly truth and confronting the mystery that awaited him. Although he did not know anything for sure yet, he was picking up subtle clues from his unfolding surroundings. His ship was not received by a magnificent welcoming party like every other time he had returned home, no real surprise there. It was merely just Queen Adyána standing at the docks with her royal guards, awaiting her second-born son. 

Queen Adyána was once a princess of the Horse Kingdom in the West. In her youth and up until recently, she had flowing brunette hair bundled and weaved in thick braids down to her waist, and warm brown eyes. The cargo frigate docked at the northern cape at Seaport Village Pier. The prince walked down the boarding ramp in his gray cloak. They were kind enough to let him keep it, knowing full well he would never obtain the silver cloak of an ordained knight. 

His mother looked up, astonished. For time had changed many things since last they met, and the prince’s growth would have perhaps been the topic of conversation given normal circumstances, but too much had changed at home. Mitakahn looked down at his mother. He finally got a good look at her and realized that while time had been good for Mitakahn’s growth, it had the opposite effect on his mother, taking its toll on her. 

Queen Adyana bore such burdensome eyes. Her hair, still down to her waist, had withered into brunette and gray stressed strips. Her face looked worn down and profoundly sad, shadowed with pale wrinkled skin. After looking hard, Mitakahn could still see her beauty, but in his absence something had been plaguing her along with the rest of the townsfolk. 

The Queen greeted her son with a warm embrace. He would be the last to know in the entire kingdom of the awful news. It's amazing how Mitakahn had been kept in the dark until the summons reached him at the knighthood, a true testament to the Silver Den’s reclusiveness. Up until now he had been worried about his own misdeeds but the atmosphere around town was too much to ignore. 

There was an unusual density to the air. The winds from the sea seemed to stop right before the city. Everyone walked with their heads hung low, eyes to the cobblestone ground, as if a contagious despair afflicted the city. In the shadow of change crept in a sullen evil, an infectious gloom. Mitakahn merely dismissed it as a lousy seaport day. The once bright, bustling, clean streets of the port city resembled more of a murky melancholy which left the prince feeling estranged.

His journey was not over. He took a carriage with his mother out of Port Caliber and up to Zepathorum City. It was in this carriage that she explained to him what was going on. “Now listen carefully, Mitakahn, because it is going to be hard enough repeating this once, I do not wish to say it again…”

“Go ahead, Mother.”

“Your father is very sick. We do not know how it happened, but it is….. It doesn’t seem like he is going to make it. Whatever kind of sickness this is, it is eating him from the inside out. I have been watching him for months now, and it has only gotten worse in that time. There is little- hope.” the queen trailed off with no idea of what to say next. And there sat Mitakahn, eyes wide, lost in horror and confusion. He had so many questions and he was so furious, but there was only one thing he could say…

“I understand.”

The shock rang out inside his mind, stunning him for the time being. He wasn’t going to get any answers; not right now. What else could he hope to make of this until he could see for himself? But something inside him, something deep down always feared that this evil was lurking. Mitakahn always suspected there were things his father kept from them, old secrets that make kings the loneliest people on the planet. 

Mitakahn had so many questions growing up. Like what happened to the rest of the Arkenoir Dynasty? His family ruled for hundreds of years, yet all his uncles, aunts, and cousins were on his mother’s side from the ShoreLands. It was too late now. He let the unknown fester in his time away. Maybe if Mitakahn was around more he would have been able to spot it sooner... He tried not to spiral down the slippery slope of taking blame. Before he knew it, they were entering the gates of Zepathorum.

Mitakahn’s time away helped him recapture the glory of Zepathorum’s splendor. The city was made of crimson crystal towers with a skyline peaking high in the sky, sparkling in the setting sun, wrapped in a ribbon wall. The highest tower being the citadel, the residence of the royal family, rested in the exact middle of the city with its back to Lake Niobi. The crystal made Zepathorum one of the most beautiful and, more importantly, the most impenetrable cities in all of MagnaThora.

The twin cities resembled a harmony of modern marvel and ancestral ingenuity. They rode in the dual horse-drawn carriage through the city down Crimson Boulevard. Mitakahn was home. The prince would get to see his father at last. Mitakahn walked up the spiral staircase of the royal tower and into the king’s resting chambers without hesitation. No amount of anticipation could brace him for what he was about to see. 

Once again his mind toyed with him. In the few seconds before he entered the room Mitakahn feared the worst. What if he looked horrible?  He had no idea what to think. His mother’s briefing almost felt like a detriment. He was shaken to the core, which made him feel like a child once again. It was a little after midday and even with a light in the corner of the room it still seemed dark. Mitakahn hated the feeling. This was not the home he remembered.

He turned to see his father sitting on the bed. Mitakahn was baffled, in the time passed it seemed that Theomitus had aged over thirty years. The King’s beard, which Mitakahn modeled his own after, was gray and spotty. His skin was tight and worn out. His eyes, once powerful and authoritative, were now surrendered and glazed over, almost vacant. 

His posture was scrawny and fragile. The fat and meat on his bones were completely gone, his skeleton sucked dry. He was half the man he used to be. His crown looked over-sized but never ill-fitting. King Theomitus looked up and saw his son. Without hesitation, he tried to stand.

 “Mitakahn!”

“I’m here…I’m here now, Father. Everything is going to be alright.” 

For the first time ever, the prince found himself comforting his king. Together, they stood in the middle of the room, surrounded by family, hugging each other. Mitakahn opened his eyes; he was taller than his father. Since when? 

He wanted to break down right then and there and cry, but he didn’t. Something inside of him made him hold on, hold true to what he believed in to get him through this. Something kept him strong for the time being, strong for his father and his family. Like the ends will one day justify the means, and once it is all over life will have found its own path to the greater meaning…if he could just hold strong now. Mitakahn acknowledged this force and pulled it close, along with his father’s embrace. 

The king held onto Mitakahn tightly. It had been too long. 

“Mitakahn, th-there” he stuttered, “there are so many things I’ve wanted to say to you.”

“It’s okay, father. I’m home now. We have plenty of time.”

“…time for what?”

Mitakahn was completely thrown off by his father’s confusion. Only later did he find out from his mother that a couple of days ago the king lost the ability to keep his attention. Theomitus was losing his mind. One moment they would be in the presence of the king, the next moment he was either docile or disoriented. The mind was a fickle complexity. Even in such abnormal circumstances, there was still a woeful balance only chaos could connect. 

Three Seasons Ago

When Theomitus first began to feel this sickness inside of him his mind immediately focused on the future. The king knew something was wrong for a while but did not show any signs of physical ailment. Theomitus decided not to say anything and keep his family in the dark about his sickness. He did this by going on a quest, leaving Mitakahn’s older brother and heir to the throne, Prince Axion Arkenoir, in charge of the entire kingdom for the first time. 

At the time, the royal family did not think anything of it. They thought it was merely a trial for Axion as prince and future ruler of the kingdom and a vacation for the tenured king. Theomitus even mentioned to his wife how dealing with the lords, the council of Prestigents, the senators, and most of all… the governor would be good for the boy’s growth in diplomacy. In the king’s words, “One of the most integral skill sets for ruling a kingdom is snake-juggling.” 

On his journey he walked to many lands and cities filled with old enemies. He searched far and wide for ancient treasures and went to look for places that drifted off the map long ago. But no one knew he searched for such treasures. And whatever secrets he found or uncovered, he kept to himself leaving a quiet mystery in his wake. 

When he returned home to Zepathorum the king never talked about his journey. In fact, by the time he came back he was beginning his descent and barely spoke at all. Theomitus would soon start cramping up in ordinary daily motion. 

His hips and groin ached. He thought he’d pulled something. Or that’s what he told them. Maybe he was just getting old and starting to feel it. That was how he rationalized it; how he kept the possibility of something far worse at bay. Soon the shroud of menial ailments would be pulled to reveal the truth. 

One Season Ago

The king returned from his journey. For a time, he kept Axion in charge. Theomitus relished in the idea of taking an early retirement. He spent his days with his beloved Adyana, like back before they had kids and a kingdom to worry about.

Theomitus stared at the sun’s radiance bouncing off the golden shine within his throne room. He looked out wide openings created by the balconies, providing a panoramic view of his city and kingdom beyond it. His queen walked into the room, practically skipping with glee; her hair braided down her back, still a bright brunette, not a worry in the world. Theomitus compared the beauty of the sunshine with the loveliness of his wife’s eyes. “Do you know what today is? My king…” she asked. 

“I believe I do, fair queen. It is the anniversary of our wedding day.”

“Correct, your majesty. Happy Anniversary!” she smiled while she leaned in over the throne for a kiss. Together the two of them sat on the throne, peering out over the southern window, past Lake Niobi, at the cascading fields of the Serengeti. 

“One day,” promised the king, “When Mitakahn is done with school, and Axion has taken the throne, we shall retire to a small town in the Serengeti, and find a nice place by the lake…” 

They both stared out into the horizon with joyful smiles on their faces. “That sounds perfect,” replied Queen Adyána.

 She jumped up, like a little girl, turned around, and went to say, “And perhaps, we can have a-” But before she could finish she saw something wrong in the face of her beloved. Half his smile turned to frown, while the eye above it began to droop. Adyána screamed when King Theomitus started shaking uncontrollably.

 “HELP!” yelled Adyána, “GUARDS!” 

Adyána rushed over to the king, who was now fully out of control of his bodily functions. She held his head by her bosom, keeping it from trembling, while the rest of his body convulsed and then fell limp, lifeless. She feared for the worst, and screamed out yet again, “GUARDS! THE KING NEEDS YOU!” 

The Royal Guard rushed in to tend to the fallen king. 

“He’s still breathing! Quick, get him down to the infirmary, and notify Prince Axion of what has happened, HURRY!” ordered Queen Adyána.

  They moved into action and carefully brought the fainted king downstairs. Adyána met Axion at the infirmary, “It is best if we tell no one what has happened right now, especially Mitakahn.”

“I agree,” Axion concluded, “He should finish out his schooling without worry.” 

Together the prince and queen concealed the king’s condition as best they could. But he only got worse, and it was apparent what was happening to him. Soon, the council was notified, followed shortly by the entire nation, and eventually, the world at large would know that King Theomitus was tragically ill. 

All but his son, Mitakahn, would know of the horror and plague that the royal family was going through. Until finally it was getting too dismal to be kept at bay, and time to call Mitakahn home. 

This Season Hence

Theomitus was at the brink of death, and Mitakahn was just finding out he had a limited amount of time left with his father. The king knew an intimate apocalypse was on the horizon for his family; one he would regrettably be the cause of, one he could not be there to lead a recovery after. His guilt weighed on his body, and his gravity succumbed to depression, a new psychological symptom of the illness. 

But soon his mind would rot with the venom invading his body, and the burden would give way to confusion. He wouldn’t talk much; just walk in a constant daze. No longer would his mind be able to lay down plans for the future. It was clear his mind moved past the present and the future, possibly to somewhere else entirely. In order to keep the endless darkness at bay, he found solitude and peace in recalling the past. 

Mitakahn often wondered how life would be if perceived through his father’s eyes; in his “on the brink” condition. What arbitrary doors of physical life would be closed, and infinite doors of the rapture opened? Like the shadow from a windowsill retracting from the setting sun. Like the tides on a beach, the pull of the moon, the eventual groove of the universal clock. 

Time. Change. Growth

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WBotFAW Ep 30: Safe Zone, New Home

 

Episode 30: Safe Zone, New Home

        

                They were out in the sea for about seven days before the fresh water ran out, food was running low as well. There were too many of them for the rations they had. It was as simple as that. They needed to dock and resupply soon. Unknown to the rest of the group, Marcus, Samuel, and Atticus had been searching for the coast for two days now. Somehow they got turned around out in the Atlantic. It might have been in the thunderstorm, when one of the sails was torn during a lightning bolt strike on the stern.  Since then, they had patched the sail up, but it quickly appeared to them that the Lobster House Yacht was not really meant for long-term voyages.

         It was getting late. Atticus had given up, along with Samuel, each at their own breaking point during the day. It was quite humorous to Annie, who was always frequenting “the three captains” as she affectionately called them, how one had to outlast the other. And now all that was left was Marcus. Annie jumped off the counter from her usually legs-dangling position and walked over to Marcus who was steering.

         “Why is it that men can never admit when they’re lost? I mean tell me that isn’t one of the oldest clichés in the book…” Annie teased.

         “We’re definitely lost.” Marcus blatantly contradicted her.

         “Wow…Have to admit I didn’t see that coming…”

         “Can you help me?” Marcus showed through a little.

         But Annie was still buying it, “Just head west…”

         “It’s so hard to turn the sails, We lost west….along with east…and south…and north…”

         “Well right now you have west, just steer towards the setting sun. If you want I can take …over…maybe…”

         “I think that would be best.” Marcus backed up and gestured politely towards his spot behind the wheel.

         “Wow, this is…vintage…” Annie commented.

         Marcus excused himself and met with Samuel and Atticus waiting on the deck outside. “She finally worked up the courage to ask, guys….We did it!”

         Samuel high-fived Marcus as he returned to the bridge. Atticus sighed, “I can’t believe she bought the fact that none of us knew the sun sets in the west…”

         “It doesn’t matter how, what matters is we have someone who knows what they’re doing behind the wheel.”

         The yacht regained a straight course, something “the three captains” could not do, and it was due west. They were bound to hit land. Storm clouds rushed in and rushed out without breaking, but the high winds did kick up the waves. More and more the yacht rocked back and forth nearly flipping upside-down. The bowels of the ship moaned and cracked with the pressure. But the storm clouds moved by so quickly that just as the worst was upon them it settled within minutes. And on the last slow-drawing towering wave they were nearly capsized. Annie took the wave head on, but was now turning in to ride the cusp.

         The yacht was leaking everywhere and taking on water as it was trying not to get rolled over. Finally, Annie drove the yacht over the wave and there just ahead of them was nothing but calm waters. Chambers climbed the biggest sail and looked out under the sun.

         “LAND!” He called out with his hands cupping and projecting his yell.

         Samuel ran in and told Marcus and Annie that they could see land. The two finished the journey by bringing the creaking Cape May Lobster House yacht to what looked like a mile long island. They drove the ship straight up onto the sand. It looked like a public beach, or state park, there was nothing really around anywhere. Chambers and Quinn got off the boat first and were climbing the dunes when everyone else was on the beach.

         “Where do you think we are?”

         “Could be Virginia Beach, could be the Bahamas…”

         “Yeah right, I think it’s North Carolina, you know…the Outer Banks…”

         “I don’t really know North Carolina,” Chambers admitted.

         “Where are you from anyways?” Quinn stopped.

         A woman holding a basket was ahead of them, putting laundry out on a clothesline in what looked like her backyard. At first glance of the two of them she dropped the basket and ran at them.

         “Oh my God!” She screamed waving her hands.

         “Would you look at that…” Chambers laughed.

         “Are ya’ll refugees?” the girl said approaching them. She met them at the top of the dune and looked out at the rest of them and their yacht. “My lord, look at you…Where ya’ll from?”

         “All over, but mostly New York…”

         “Welcome to Kitty Hawk, I’m Dakota Haynes.”

         “Where?” Chambers was confused.

         “I told you…North Carolina…” Quinn was so proud of being right, and eagerly anticipated everyone to catch up to them. Once they did, they all introduced themselves to Dakota and Quinn made sure they all knew where they were, and how she was right. “You know…the Outer Banks…”

         “Actually,” Dakota interrupted, “Now we call it the OBX Safe Zone…”

         “How much of the island do you have quarantined?” Atticus asked her.

         “The bridges have all been destroyed; there is not one zombie in the entire Outer Banks…”

         The girls were amazed; they gasped and found it too good to be true. But Dakota, who was a native herself, reassured them, “This is a sanctuary.”

         Later, inside her house, she explained to them, “Early on they saw what was happening out in the mainland. People were told to evacuate, but then they heard from their family members that the mainland were being told the same thing. So many of us chose to stay, my husband was one of them. When the horde tried to come over the bridge… he was the one…he was…he volunteered to go and …stop them… ”

         “They blew up the bridges?” Samuel inferred.

         “It cost them their lives…to keep us all safe….” Dakota was crying softly but smiling, “And now three towns have been repopulated…Kitty Hawk, Kill Devil Hills, and Nags Head. Oh yeah…and Cape Hatteras has just been cleared and is operating as a military airport. A general in a submarine arrived about a week ago and took volunteers to the cape to retake it. They told us nobody died in the fight. I try to believe that but we have never heard word from the cape…”

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Legendary Kingdoms: Chapter 1

PROLOGUE

Far away, in a distant time and realm reflected off the stars, there is a young portrait of Earth called MagnaThora. Forged from the union of cosmos and chaos, an era of untapped magnificence and prosperity ruled over this world. In the wake of significance, humankind was born. With humanity’s creation all of the intangible energy and unpredictable forces focused, crystallized, and divided into gods. 

The gods assembled the spirit of humans. In order to decide the balance between good and evil, the original forces set unstoppable darkness against unexplainable truth, all before humankind. No corner of MagnaThora would escape the eternal struggle, but one young man desperate for meaning would see it in his dreams long before anyone else, and this is his story…

CHAPTER 1—KNIGHTHOOD OF THE SILVER DEN

After a while, you start to hear the same legends over and over. The final term students developed various routines to cope with the monotony of such lectures, tired stories of ancient kingdoms. Each student had his own method, including Mitakahn, who put forth little resistance in his morning nap. Now the nap was pure reflex.

It was perfectly natural for a robust late riser to doze off after rushing through the chilled dawn only to sit beside a warm hearth. Who could blame him? Whereas sometimes fate speaks through random acts, it’s truly remarkable how many of Mitakahn’s major life events could trace all the way back to an insignificant moment like being late for a lecture after having a bad dream. This particular lesson focused on a prehistoric kingdom of MagnaThora. 

Sir Gasper continued, “Before there were kings, before there were wars, before people had reason to write events down making them historical, the Southlands were ruled by the dragons. What do we have for empirical evidence? Mere verbal accounts and songs are all that remain of the dragon lords. Their origins are rooted so deep in the shadow it is still unclear whether they were a house that took the dragon as their sigil or actual dragons.”

Before the legend found its natural conclusion an interruption startled the class.

“NO!”

Mitakahn’s head slipped off his hand jolting him awake, the memory of his dream instantly evading him.  In that moment, he screamed loud enough to stop the lesson and garner the collective attention of the class. Mitakahn let a few moments go by, in what felt like an eternity, before excusing himself and temporarily saving himself from certain humiliation. 

He ran through the oldstone hallway, passing all the other lectures still in session. Mitakahn turned a corner and bolted for the exit. He knew the doors behind the Silver Den accoladium were often left unsupervised. He confirmed his suspicions after slipping by the row of ancient coat-of-arms that decorated the accoladium wall.

One word followed Mitakahn into the wilderness where he hoped to find some peace and respite. One word he had wrapped his entire frame of existence around since the day he was born. The meaning of the dream may have eluded him, but one remnant chased him into the woods… It was a name…Theomitus…

Most of the students assumed the school’s isolated mountaintop location was just a form of educational retreat from the world they knew. It was, in fact, one of the oldest landmarks in all of the kingdoms. Before the kings there were gods. What could possibly be before the gods but more gods? 

This crescent moon cliff-side used to be one massive (full moon) peak before the first deity came crashing into the Atlas Mountains, creating the crescent shape upon impact. West of the mountains was the godsmash crater. Surrounded by the sea on one side and the mountains on the other, the crater is the only patch of MagnaThora that has gone untouched by man since the dawn of time. 

Iron-clad laws prohibited any trespassing, but most people kept off of it out of respect. The school was built as its guardian, perched on the cliffs above. There was only one trail that ran down to the holy lands, carved seamlessly into the cliff-face. Few knew of it, none dared to traverse it...

Mitakahn sat in the grass at the bottom of the trail warming his face in the sun, having just made the decision to also skip his afternoon session, another one of his last semester classes. He excelled at making bad decisions. Mitakahn hid in the only place no one would dare come looking for him. 

The rest of the day unfolded without a flaw. His friends were going to give him relentless ridicule when he returned, it was almost guaranteed. But alas, warm weather, blue skies, dream-filled clouds marked the day a victory, and there was nothing, or no one, to get in the way. Mitakahn was free to daydream. 

Mitakahn’s mind could wander farther than any foot could ever walk. In his reflections he found peace, and in the shade over a nice bed of wild grass he found quiet. Mitakahn could not help but fall back asleep. Midday naps were his favorite. When almost everyone else was too busy awake and living their lives he was dreaming. This was special to him. He felt as if being the only one dreaming made the dreams that much more potent.

He was so content he slept the rest of the day away, which was odd because if Mitakahn was known for anything around campus it was never missing a meal. Outside of his small circle of friends, Mitakahn didn’t always get along with the rest of the students. He was not the smartest and he was not the strongest. This was uncommon for someone with such an old family name, like Arkenoir. 

When he was awoken by a growl in the wild it was already dusk and too late to climb back up the trail; to do it at all was madness, to do it at night was certain death. So Mitakahn had to make camp for the night. He was no tenderfoot, but well-trained in his five year tenure at the knighthood. Mitakahn first fashioned a club for protection and a fire for warmth before building his shelter. 

A slow rustle came from the trees behind him. Back towards the trail and the cliffside he heard the delicate crunch of leaves caught between the ground and footsteps. Mitakahn softly moved away from the fire, out of sight. 

It could be anything. He could hunt it. He could be the hunted. He crouched down low and waited for his intruder. There was nothing to be seen. But he still heard sounds of a threat. Mitakahn grew anxious, his nerves getting the best of him. He had to do something. With a big gulp, he started walking back out to the campfire. He gritted his teeth and used himself as bait… which was never a good idea and only a measure of desperation. Mitakahn’s self awareness piqued suddenly exposing the fool’s errand, a true knight would have remained steadfast and waited for an opportunity. 

Beads of sweat dropped off his forehead, haunting his every step. Mitakahn barely stepped forth before regretting his decision. He dropped, and in doing so avoided getting mauled. Instead, the predator nearly missed, knocking Mitakahn off his feet. Whatever it was… he felt its claws dig into the back of his shoulder blade. 

He let go of the club and tried not to fall on top of it, twisting his kneecap. They were close enough to the fire for the animal to get spooked and scurry off. Mitakahn kept from screaming and rolled over the pain, preoccupied with identifying his foe. It blended-in with the trees so easily. Four legs, scaly skin, uncanny agility… This did not seem like any local fauna.

The basilisk flew down from the tree branch and attacked. Mitakahn dodged the aerial assault by the grace of the gods. The winged lizard was not just passing by; it was looking for its next meal. Mitakahn reached for his club, but the basilisk redirected in an instant and rushed him again. Mitakahn gave up on going for the club and instead jumped out of the way of the charging reptile. 

The club got knocked into the fire by the beast’s quick kicking claws. Mitakahn picked up a rock and hurled it. The basilisk dodged the rock, side-stepping it, and made another run at Mitakahn. He ducked behind the fire and the giant reptile leapt off the ground, flying above Mitakahn. There was a bizarre shift he had never felt before. Something he could not see, but he could sense closed in around him. 

Everything slowed down. 

Mitakahn looked down at his left hand. Believing that this would not be the last time he saw it, he closed his eyes, and reached into the flame, searching for a grip... 

Mitakahn pulled the club out of the fire, burning his fingers, and swung it at the basilisk flying overhead. The fiery club slammed into the serpent’s ribcage and a burst of embers exploded in the darkness. The dynamic blast encapsulated the fallen adversary in a fiery celebration of splintered cinders. The reptile fell, tried to get back up and stumbled over crawling back into the brush. 

Mitakahn followed its trail. The fight was over, the excitement fading, and exhaustion setting in. Now his body caught up while his mind slowed down. The pain was taking over. Blood and dying embers marked the brush. Mitakahn followed the trail and found the motionless beast sprawled out, not curled up. It died clawing the earth to escape. 

He was finally able to get a good look at it. The grayish-green scales covered most of its body, from its thick tail to its horned-brow, all save its beige underbelly. The most frightening part for Mitakahn was the translucent leathery skin connecting its arms to its body. This reptile had wings. Mitakahn knew it did not fly as much as it glided, but this was the closest thing to a dragon he had ever seen, and the implications haunted him. 

“What in the NetherRealms is a cold-blooded creature like you doing this far north?”

He dropped the club. His wounded hand, back, and knee sang to him. Mitakahn plopped down onto the ground, and soon after decided to lie down, comfortably landing his head on the reptile’s empty chest. It stunk. The smell was horrible, like fermented grass and droppings. Mitakahn slid his head off the dirt floor before passing out from exhaustion.

The second time Mitakahn awoke in the Sacred Lands he did so with the sun. He still had some time before First Horn and could make it up the trail in the light, but he knew there would be no hiding his physical condition. He didn't waste any time looking back. He had enough of a reminder riddling his body with swells and pain, vowing never again to visit the Holy Lands of MagnaThora. Irony at its best. 

When Mitakahn reached the top he saw his friends on their way to class. Right before Mitakahn got to them, a member of the faculty called out from across the fields. 

“Mitakahn!” yelled Sir Pulitzer, with his ill-fitting spectacles bouncing on his high-ridged nose as he ran. “You’ve been summoned by the headmaster.” 

Mitakahn changed direction and started running over to the Main Hall, attempting to hide his limp. He was caught before he even had a chance to get away with it.  First Horn sounded and the entire student body proceeded to their morning sessions. Mitakahn felt a great schism in his path. He was no longer on the same trajectory as the rest of his peers. He was no longer a student beginning his morning session. Some force was pulling him, where? He did not know... But he would not resist the current; for better or for worse.

  Mitakahn walked through the old-stone slabs perfectly put together to form a capital story walk-up, which led to the headmaster’s office. 

“Mitakahn, have a seat…” 

“Good morning, Master Gribbons.” Mitakahn said, as his palms began to sweat.

“You look like you had a rough night.”

Sir Pulitzer remained by the headmaster’s side, hovering carefully with his arms crossed. 

“The boy needs medical attention, Master.”

“I can explain-”

“To save you from further embarrassment, Mitakahn, I will inform you now that we are aware you missed all of your classes yesterday.”

Mitakahn sunk in his chair. This was going to be ugly. 

“We had the fourth year scouts track you to the Sacred Lands trail, and furthermore Sir Pulitzer informs me that he witnessed you returning to camp from the trail just now.”

“Master, please if I could just ex-” Mitakahn  rubbed his hands together anxiously. 

“You know what we have to do, Mitakahn.”

“…Please…”

“It is one of the oldest laws of this institution…”

“This house was basically founded on it, son,” Sir Pulitzer added.

Sir Pulitzer expected Mitakahn’s reaction to what he said, but he didn’t expect the headmaster’s same unamused stare. 

“Give us the room, Sir Pulitzer.”

“As you wish, Headmaster.”

Once the door closed Headmaster Gribbons’ facial expressions almost completely changed. The unyielding stern look he was famous for around the Silver Den faded and a sorted, burdened look, stretched across the headmaster’s face. Mitakahn could read the old knight’s face loud and clear, he was conflicted.  

“Mitakahn, I have no choice.”

“If people find out I was expelled from- it will disgrace my father’s house.”

“You think I have not heavily weighed all the ramifications of your actions? Maybe if you were so aware of your father’s house and its societal standings within the eight kingdoms from the start you would have never crossed the forbidden threshold!”

“Headmaster, I meant no disrespect.”

“Your father is a king, Mitakahn, which makes you a-”

“Prince. But not the one that counts, right?” Mitakahn’s temper finally took hold, “My whole life I have been told I’m an heir, but what’s the point? I’m the prince who will never be king. What is my purpose? …the very question that brought me here. Feudal code and ancient tradition has ever been the bane of my existence. What is it about a patch like any other ground that makes it forbidden? Why does being born a couple years too late take away your chance of being king even if you are a better fit for the claim?”

“Mitakahn, if you fail to see the quintessential lesson of this academy after five years, then that alone in my eyes would be grounds for dismissal.”

“Master…I-”

“It is not for us to decide the way of this world. True knights of the Silver Den are trained to attune to this world and use its wild forces for good.”

“Headmaster, you are right.” Mitakahn calmed down, “I have trained here for five years now. The lessons you and your knights have instilled upon me I will never forget. I have come to terms with the fact that life does not revolve around what I want. But sometimes it gets the best of me and getting what I want is exactly my way of standing up for myself. You say we don’t matter, I say we should. At what point does letting the world rule itself hinder our ability to do good? Your teachings are useful for developing one’s senses but are useless and outdated for practical applications in the real world.”

“Mitakahn, if you would have just brought these concerns to me in a proper forum I would have finished your training personally. But now, after what you did…”

“And if you send me packing, Headmaster, weeks before we are knighted… Zepathorum will be the laughing stock of the eight kingdoms.”

“We will not make your expulsion public.”

“How do you plan on doing that?”

“The manner in which is directly correlated with how we caught on to your violation in the first place.”

Mitakahn felt something he had never experienced before, like an endless pit opening up in his gut. It was a sense of, to put it in words.

How could this get any worse?

“We received word from the crimson kingdom, the great lion himself King Theomitus has called you home.”

“…with just a couple of weeks left? Why?”

“He did not say.”

“What could possibly be more important than getting knighted?”

“Objectively speaking Mitakahn, from my experience it can only be a royal birth, wedding, coronation, or a death.” 

Mitakahn felt the impact of that last one just a little bit longer than the others. Before he sank any further in both chair and heart, Mitakahn jumped. 

“Tell me you sent correspondence of my return already, before you caught me in the Sacred Lands.”

“I’m afraid it was already decided by the council of elders that notification of your dismissal would be sent post-haste.  By the time you get home your father will know that you failed your quest for knighthood.”

He had heard enough. Mitakahn politely excused himself before he completely lost his composure. The realization of helplessness settled in all too quickly. Before Mitakahn knew it he was heading across the commons. The amount of trouble he was in felt like a weight around his neck, pulling his eyes to the ground. He found himself walking, where? He did not know. All he knew was he had to get away. 

“Mitakahn!”

His former classmate was standing directly in front of him, face to face. Mitakahn looked up at one of his closest friends, Bridger Callister. Mitakahn and Bridger had one thing in common that could not be said for any other member of the knighthood. They were both royalty. Bridger was a shining example of a true prince: tall, fast, strong, clever, and most of all…firstborn heir to his father’s throne. After examining Mitakahn’s disheveled state, Bridger tried hailing Mitakahn again, this time with a question, “What’s wrong?”

“I was just expelled.”

Anyone else would have taken a step back or even dropped their jaw, but not Prince Bridger. He put both of his hands firmly on Mitakahn’s shoulders. Mitakahn winced as pain shot down his wounds from the night before. Although his eyes were no longer on the ground Mitakahn still struggled to focus. That was until Bridger made direct eye contact; and with it, forced Mitakahn back to reality. 

“My friend, tell me what happened to you.”

What was there to say? In one fell swoop he managed to turn his entire life upside-down. Getting knighted was the first step of his plan to achieve a significant life beneath the throne. He just tainted the well on the initial draw. He failed and that might not even be the worst of it. Some scandal awaited him, a secret so shrouded in mystery he had no choice but to track it to its source. Mitakahn saw it in Bridger’s crystal blue eyes, the clarity of the situation reflected back onto him. It was time for Mitakahn to go home…

 

And face the crimson.

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