The Forgotten King (Korin's Journal) (39 page)

A sudden chill ripped through my body, though it had nothing to do with the cold of the night.  Pulling my knees to my chest and wrapping my arms around them, I braced myself for what I expected to come next in Max’s story.

“Raijom, of course, wanted to experiment with the negative energy.  At the time, I knew nothing of what the energy was, but it had cast a sense of
wrongness
over Raijom, a sensation you have felt yourself around eldrhims and Prexwin.  I knew that there was something dark about it.  Something evil.  I refused to assist him in any way and advised that he refrain from researching the negative energy.  My words went unheeded, though.

“For months after his discovery, Raijom remained silent about his research, but I could feel negative energy radiating from him any time he was near.  Around this time, your mother announced that she was with child, hers and your father’s first.  That child was you, Korin.  I wish I could explain to you the happiness you brought them before you were even born.”  Max’s raspy voice was touched by sadness.  “Your mother had a glow about her that increased daily.  Your father did not go a single day without expressing his excitement.” 

My lips pulled up into a smile, my earlier anger completely forgotten.  Having never known my birth parents, Max’s words provided me with a connection to their love.  Before this moment, all I’d known of my parents had come from fragments of memories reflected in my dreams.  I caught Max smiling as well, his glistening eyes staring blankly as if looking into the past.

Then Max’s smile dropped.  “Then came your mother’s Blessing Day . . .
”  Max trailed off, seeming to notice my confusion.  “I nearly forgot that the Blessing Day is not celebrated here.  In Paigea, the first day of the fifth moon cycle during pregnancy is known as the Blessing Day.  From that point forward, the child’s life is deemed viable.  On the Blessing Day, a priest visits to issue a prayer for Loranis to watch over the child’s life so that he or she may grow to live out a long and prosperous life.  The priest then bestows his own blessing upon the mother and child.”

The whole problem with my mouth having a mind of its own once again came to light as my typical religious cynicism bubbled to the surface.  “So they’re kind of crazy with the whole god and goddess worship thing in Paigea, too, huh?”  Given the gravity of our conversation and my vacillating emotions, maybe my subconscious was just trying to lighten the mood.

Max was not amused.  “Actually, Mr. Cannot Follow Max’s One Simple Rule, in Paigea, Loranis is the
only
god widely worshipped.  Though my time in Amirand has dulled my beliefs with the inane worship of gods like Phrangastus, the
almighty
god of gambling, I still hold to the recorded history of Loranis and Rizear.”

The recorded history that Max had mentioned was the general lore that Loranis had created the world, walking the land in human form until Rizear attempted to plague his creation with fire, pain, and death.  Loranis, wanting to preserve the lives he’d created, gave up his power, imbuing it into the land and its people.  Doing so protected the world from Rizear, keeping the god of death and his eldrhims eternally separated from it.  Or so preach those that believe in such things.

Anyway, countless gods and goddesses were supposedly born from the dispersion of Loranis’s power, dedicating themselves to watching over every aspect of Loranis’s creation.  That’s the reason for the absurd number and types of gods and goddesses worshipped in Amirand.  From what Max had just told me, it appeared Paigea had left out this part.  I was liking this other world already.

Sorry.  I digress. 

“May I continue without any other stupid questions?” Max inquired, standing with his arms crossed over his fuzzy chest.  Properly chagrined, I nodded.  Max moved on.

“Raijom was supposed to be present on your mother’s Blessing Day.  When he did not show, I went to check on him immediately after the ceremony.  He was not in his bedchamber, so I went to his private study where he performed the majoirty of his research and experiments.  Nothing could have prepared me for what I found.”

Max visibly swallowed, his pointy teeth biting his lower lip.  “There was blood everywhere.  Furniture was broken and splintered.  Shattered glass and ripped parchment littered the floor.  Irregular holes dotted the carpet, sinking a hand’s depth into the floor as if something had melted away the stone.  The sense of wrongness that accompanies negative energy permeated the room, more strongly than I had ever felt before.  There was no immediate sign of Raijom, and I received no answer when I called his name.  I feared for the worst.

“I called out an alarm, not knowing if there was a danger present in the castle or if Raijom had simply fallen victim to an experiment gone wrong.  As the castle guards were undoubtedly taking your parents to safety, I frantically searched the room, sure that I would find Raijom’s dead body.  I finally found him beneath an overturned desk, covered with debris. 

“He held to life by a thread, his body mangled, broken, and torn.  His robes were shredded, exposing his vicious injuries.  For the most part, his skin had been eaten away to muscle and bone.  His face was nearly unrecognizable.  He should have been dead.  No human body can take that much abuse, lose that much blood, and still live.”  Max turned to me sharply.  “No one.” 

Max’s grave tone sent a shudder through my body.  I swallowed against the dryness in my throat, knowing what had truly happened to Raijom, but allowing Max to reveal it in his own words.

“Even with magic, it took weeks to fully heal Raijom’s body.  Despite healing his physical injuries, he remained comatose.  A full month passed before he awoke.”  Max fell silent.

“Max?” I prompted.

Max slowly lifted his attention to me.  “I was the one at Raijom’s bedside when he first spoke.  Even in his weakened state, his eyes flared with excitement.  With a fierce smile, one that did not fit the prophet I had always known, he told me what had happened.  I was the first to hear that Raijom had discovered how to summon eldrhims.”

Chapter 33

Prophecy’s Birth, Max’s Death

Some things just can't be properly processed by the human mind.  Like when a child first learns of death, for example.  The first time they experience the death of someone close to them, their mind can’t fully grasp the concept of what has happened.  They can’t comprehend why their mother no longer tucks them in at night or why their best friend doesn’t come over to play Knights and Dragons anymore. 

When Max explained Raijom’s admission of eldrhim summoning, I felt much the same way.  My mind couldn’t make sense of why anyone would commit such a vile act.  Even if the summoning had been an accident, Raijom had been happy about what he’d done!  And having been nearly killed by eldrhims on several occasions by this point, I was pretty sure that Raijom hadn’t stopped his usage of negative energy after this one instance.

Max had gone silent again.  I placed my hand on his back to rouse him, yearning to hear more.  “Max?”

Max started with a twitch, breaking from his reverie.  “I am sorry.  I was just . . .”  He dropped his head.  “I cannot help but wonder if I could have done something back then, if you would still be with your parents if I had.”

I saw no need for Max to dwell on what could’ve been.  The past was the past, and it couldn’t be changed.  As Chasus had once told me, “Life is a constant journey, one that requires us to keep moving forward.  If we spend all our time looking over our shoulders, we’ll do nothing but twist our ankles.” 

“You couldn’t have known how everything would turn out,” I stressed. 

“No, Korin, but I should have recognized the sickness that had wormed through Raijom’s mind,” Max insisted. 

Before I could argue, Max moved on.  “Your father forbade Raijom from participating in further executions and ordered him to cease his research on negative energy.  Whatever had happened in Raijom’s study was not something that your father wanted repeated.  He requested that Raijom take a short leave from service to fully recover. 

“Of course, your father did not believe that Raijom had actually summoned an eldrhim; none who knew of what happened did.  We simply assumed that Raijom’s claims were attributed to exhaustion and the effects of the negative energy.  After all, eldrhims are viewed as a myth in Paigea just as they are here. 

“After a week, Raijom returned to your father’s service.  He apologized for his actions, claiming he had overworked himself before, that he had not been in his right mind when professing to have summoned eldrhims.  He vowed to respect your father’s wishes to abstain from researching negative energy.  Everything was ostensibly back to the way it had been.  Sadly, that was not to last long.”

Max looked back to me.  “And this is where you come into the story,” he said with a wistful smile and a twitch of his black nose.  “I remember when the announcement was sent through the land that Ingran Zachary Lemweir, the next Prime Sovereign, had been born.  I was speaking on your father’s behalf in a nearby city when I heard the news, your father having refused to leave the castle during the final days leading up to your birth.  He would not allow anything to prevent him from witnessing your entry into the world.”

Warmth spread through my veins and tears burned at the corners of my eyes.  There was no reason to have such a strong emotional attachment to the parents I’d never known, but I was deeply affected nonetheless. 

At the same time, the realization that I’d been born the Prime Sovereign’s heir finally struck me, assaulting my mind with a tumultuous onslaught of feelings.  I’d grown up on a simple farm, learning to care for animals and crops, while my birth father would’ve likely been teaching me to oversee an empire.  Still, I’d been brought up with unconditional love, raised to become a good man.  I hadn’t missed out on a thing. 

“I rushed back to Lantrim, the capital city of Paigea and home to the Prime Sovereign’s seat of power,” Max recalled.  “When I arrived, I was told that Raijom and I had been summoned to the nursery to see you.  You see, when a new life comes into the world, it brings with it a sense of magic, one that can invoke visions in prophets such as Raijom as to what the future may hold for it.  In the case of royalty, both in Paigea and in Amirand, having a prophet divine whether or not their progeny will grow to live full, healthy lives is a common practice.

“When I met with Raijom, I could tell something was wrong.  His eyes were sunken and dark, and he spoke few words.  There was no direct sensation of negative energy around him, but something felt off, as if there were something I should have been seeing that had been purposely hidden from my eyes.  Excited to see you for the first time, however, I ignored my misgivings about Raijom’s condition.”  Max flashed me a sad smile.

“When we arrived, Galvin and Kailyth welcomed us with the raidant glow and smiles of proud new parents.  I could already see much of your mother in you.  Every time I see your eyes, I still think of her.”  Max turned his eyes up to the sky.  I followed his gaze to see the first fat snowflakes of the first legitimate snowfall of winter.  They danced lazily in the balmy breeze, majestically shining in the lantern’s light before melting upon contact with the ground.

Max stepped forward to the edge of the outcropping, watching the snowflakes drift to the lake below.  “The instant Raijom saw
you, he clutched his face in his hands and let out a horrible cry as if the sight of you had set his mind aflame.  I had seen Raijom have strange reactions when prophesying before, but this was different.  He fell to the ground, his body jerking fiercely. 

“Your father and I had to combine our efforts in order to restrain Raijom’s violent thrashing.  Once he stilled, he stared directly into your father’s eyes.  Then he told your father the prophecy I have told you of, the one that led to your ousting from Paigea.”  Max paused, his eyes sliding closed. 
“The one that has Raijom wanting you dead.”

My entire body froze.  It was difficult to draw air into my lungs. 

Max turned his attention to me, apparently noticing that I was shocked to the point of paralysis.  “Are you sure you want to hear this?”

“Max,” I began, dropping my legs over the outcropping’s edge once more, “I know you feel the prophecy should be left to be played out, that it could be disrupted by telling me of its contents—”

Max chuckled wryly.  “All I have given you are selfish excuses,” he admitted.  “Prophecies happen or they do not; nothing is ever definite.  Besides, Raijom has already done—is still doing—more to disrupt his prophecy than you ever could.” 

“Nonetheless,” I continued dryly, “I need to hear it.”

“Okay,” Max replied softly, the lantern’s light flickering fitfully across his face.  “Raijom’s words are burned into my memory as surely as my own name.  Raijom told your father, ‘This child will bring about your end, my king.  He will willingly release a radiant fury upon you, ending your life and your reign.  All that you have worked for, all that you have built, will crumble to ashes in the flames of what this boy will engender.’”  Max stopped, gauging my reaction.

Frankly, I was just numb, both inside and out.  It was difficult to hear that I’d been prophesied to kill my own father, destroying the very good he’d achieved.  Even more difficult was finding
myself accepting that it could be true.

“Max, if my father’s in Gualain, if he’s behind this war,” I whispered, my constricting throat prohibiting me from speaking any louder, “then maybe the prophecy is true.  Maybe I
will
have to kill him to end this war.” 

Releasing those words brought the weight of burden upon me, pressing down on my shoulders as if trying to drive me through the rock below.  All this time, I’d suspected that the prophecy had involved me stopping Raijom, but not in this way.  Not by killing my own father. 

The world seemed to spin in my vision, a literal translation of how my life was spiraling out of control.  I was just a simple boy from a simple farm.  How could I be the estranged heir of an entire land?  How could I be prophesied to kill my own father?  Could the outcome of a war against the magically enslaved living and dead rest upon my actions?

“Korin,” Max snapped, bringing my attention back into focus.  “Do not go down that path just yet.  I still believe that your father is not behind Gualain’s war.  He is a good man.”

“All you know is that my father
was
a good man.”  My words came out harsher than intended. “What if Raijom has corrupted him?” I asked, wiping the wetness from my face.  Surely it was from the snow, not tears.

Max took a calming breath and looked me in the eyes.  “Korin, your father is
not
a wizard.  He cannot raise the dead.  He could not have sent that apparition to speak to Jefren.  There is something else at work here.  Even if that something happens to be Raijom as Menar asserted, I hightly doubt that your father is involved.  For now, please just trust me.”

“Okay, Max,” I conceded, though only to appease him.  Deep inside, I was certain that we’d find my father—possibly under Raijom’s control—once we were in Gualain.  I just needed to decide whether or not I could bring myself to kill him as Raijom had prophesied if doing so had a chance of ending the war.

“Korin, I know that this is difficult for you, and that is one reason I have kept the prophecy from you all these years.  And though it hurts me to see you affected so, there is more to this story, and it will not be easy to hear.”

I responded with a silent nod.  I was as ready as I’d ever be.

Max stepped closer.  “Your parents were grief-stricken.  Raijom’s prophecies had always come to pass before, giving his vision of you a terrible weight.  Your father and I argued with Raijom for hours about finding a means of avoiding the prophecy.  Raijom insisted that the prophecy was inescapable, that you would kill your father, and his empire, so to speak, would fall.  He told your parents that the only way to avoid such a fate was to end your life.  He left the room, leaving us all with that thought.”

My breath shuddered as I considered my mother and father being faced with such a situation. 

“I could do little to comfort your parents, but I assured them that I would find another way.  Looking into your eyes, I knew that I could never let you be killed in the name of prophecy.  I firmly believe that nothing in life is set in stone.  We all have control of our destinies to some extent.  I felt I could make Raijom see that. 

“I called for Raijom to meet me in your nursery that evening, requesting that he try once again to bring forth a prophecy.  I hoped that with his previous vision revealed, your future had already started down a different path.  Instead, Raijom insisted that nothing had changed.  He told me that he had devised a way to circumvent the prophecy, though, knowing that your parents would never give up your life, not even to protect your father’s.  He explained that he would convince your parents to send you away from Paigea, though he would not clarify what that meant.”  Max swallowed.  “He inferred that he would have you clandestinely killed afterwards.

“Raijom left me to dwell on his words.  Part of me wondered if maybe he were right.”  I was stunned by Max’s admission, my eyes widening.  “But as I looked at you, I knew that he was far from being so.  You had your own destiny to carve.  I
had
to convince Raijom of that.  Later that night, I set out to do just that.

Max’s eyes somehow darkened further.  “As I neared Raijom’s private study, I felt the
wrongness
again, only this time it was worse by a hundredfold.  The air was thick with it.  I should have sounded the alarm, but my fear overrode my senses, and I rushed onward. 

“Loose parchment circulated through the corridor leading to Raijom’s private study on unnatural currents of air, though there were no windows.  The door to his study was ajar, or more precisely, it hung loosely from its hinges.  Deafening sound tore from behind the broken door.  Fearing for Raijom’s safety, I ran in.  I will never forget the sight that met my eyes.

“Dozens of lifeless bodies were piled in the back of the room, the sickening odor of rot emanating from their bloated, decayed carcasses.  Raijom stood in the center of his study with his back to me, his arms outstretched.  His robes flapped erratically from sourceless wind.  Two shadowed forms were taking shape before him, forms I was about to learn were eldrhims.  For a moment, I was frozen in shock.

“Regaining my senses, I began to draw in magic energy, prepared to protect Raijom from whatever the hulking forms were.  Before I could do anything, Raijom dropped wearily to his knees.  His head swiveled slowly towards me, the smile on his face as nauseating as the rotted bodies piled near him.

“‘I have been expecting you Jonasir,’” he spoke, his voice a hollow echo of what it had once been.  “‘You have arrived just in time.  I knew you would be too weak to accept what must be done, and I cannot have you ruining my plans.  Ingran
will
be cast away, and Menar will follow to end his life. 
You
will only serve a hindrance, one I cannot afford.’”

Max’s voice trembled as he spoke.  “Raijom turned back to the now fully formed
creatures, the nightmarish abominations that I then realized were eldrhims.  ‘
I
am your master here,’ Raijom told them.  ‘Destroy Jonasir Spensolin.’  As he gave that command, he pointed towards me with an iniquitous grin.  The Raijom I had known was gone.  I did not understand what had injected him with the evil that burned in his eyes.”