Sustaining The King's Life 40 The Young King's Ascension Part 2

The law states that the Kingdom shall await only a candidate from the Feuerkrieger line. This law seemed greedy to some, but it was justified and supported by powerful relations—the Feuerlon themselves, the other branch of the royal family who should have been the first one to recoil in this said law. This law made clear that the Feuerlons shan't have a chance to be in possession of the throne, even if they COULD.

The Duke was an adult—having the means and the power to be king. There were not much suitable candidates, since the young Feuerkrieger, Noah, was still a child himself, and could not ascend to the throne. The n.o.bles awaited the Duke's recoil and disapproval of the ridiculous law, and the common folk could only wait in anxiety as the kingdom decides of its new ruler.

"Duke Feuerlon agreed to the conditions of the law, Your Majesty." Julian exclaims, bemused. "What a surprise, I must say…"

"Surprise?" The king retorted. "Feuerlons never ascended to the throne. It was not a matter of agreeing or disagreeing. It is a matter of knowing their place."

"But it would be their greatest advantage if they disapproved." Julian says. "It amazed me. This boy's uncle is indeed a mystery."

"Duke Feuerlon, hm?" The king answers. "Feuerlons have been under our wing, and into the shadows for a thousand years' worth of time. It is indeed a great mystery for the Duke to stay out of the spotlight—to stay away from the throne's temptations,"

"Yes."

"There are too much to do. This boy's body is not accustomed to pain." The king says as he clenched his fist. "His mana is unstable. Spells are not enough to sustain his life."

"What do you mean, Your Majesty?"

"The spells that have been pa.s.sed to you from all the Head Mages for the course of a thousand years are ineffective for this boy. His body is not stable enough to handle the magic flowing through his veins. The eight souls cannot be contained and will start to deteriorate his body. I can feel an excruciating pain every day."

"My king…"

"I possess his body on his behalf. I am handling this unbearable pain for him." Octavius chuckles as he plays with fire on his palm. "He should be thankful."

"He will be." Julian answers. "He is an obedient son, and a good boy. He will be your follower, My King."

"Oh?" The king smirked. "Why does his soul tell otherwise?"

Julian did not know how to respond to the king's words. He remained on his feet as he watched the king in a boy's body stare into obscurity, eyes lost in thought. He was still bedridden, and could not move his feet. The sessions of embedding the magic was done an hour ago to his body, and Julian could be nothing but grateful, for the first king handled the agony in Noah's behalf.

**

Years had pa.s.sed like fleeting moments of hards.h.i.+p and training. The ninth king studied under the best teachers Feuersturm had to offer—several of them were retired members of the Court and the Council itself. It took him few months before he could move his legs properly and do a 'real sword training' unlike what he had done before, only studying and observing knights from a photographic illusion in Julian's staff.

With the help of the first king, Noah achieved glory. Octavius helped him and taught him through letters on various strategies to boost Feuersturm's military power. He also taught him the best defenses of the war that made Feuersturm Empire what it is today.

But the glory did not only come from the first king. What Noah achieved were beyond Julian's expectations—as if the first king's teachings seemed to be only a guise as his guidelines to the path to success. Noah was behind to the kingdom's economic prosperity—in just a span of five years, the 'King Behind the Shadows' had made Feuersturm the "Heart" of Zuerst; the Feuer Capital being the most frequently visited city at the whole continent.

Not only did the king made the country's economy flourish, in his rule, Feuersturm also was considered by the Court as the leading country in the investigation of the Warlock Jonathan, the Forsaken. For five years there were no news about him, but the Ninth king's leads were the closest as far as the Court observed.

THE DAY OF THE KING'S ASCENSION

The twelve-year-old king smiled as he peered from above. The roaring cheers from his people deafened his ears, but he could hear nothing but the voice of Octavius on his head. The laws, the history, the economy. Things he must fix.

What his duty is.

He saw a silver haired woman along with Sheila, his childhood friend. He smiled, and slowly walked towards them—his steps calculated and a time ticking behind his mind.

Maria Unsterblich. Her uncanny resemblance to his mother.

He did not mind her much, and headed straight to the Hall. As the gigantic doors opened, he again peered from above. Below him were people celebrating his ascension. n.o.bility. All of them were rejoicing his glory, yet he felt empty.

Calculated. Everything must fall to his plans. He smiled warmly.

"I thank you all for coming today." He says, his voice sounding different to him. "Glory upon the Feuersturm Empire."

"Glory upon the Feuersturm Empire!"

"Glory upon the King!"

Noah exited the banquet after he entertained their questions, and their chit-chats. No one dared to query in regards of his age, but he heard subtle and slick mumbles concerning the circ.u.mstances of his ascent, and even the murder of his family.

His sapphire eyes met that emerald eyes of the Duke. Noah eyed him with respect, his uncle—his only probable family, Duke Feuerlon. The Duke bowed slightly, but he did not smile. He remained expressionless as he walked towards the young king.

"I wish prosperity in your rule, My King."

Noah smiled.

An as he exited the hall, the smile he had earlier was now slowly fading from his face like a vanis.h.i.+ng shadow against the darkness. Julian awaited him outside.

"Your medications are ready, Your Majesty."

"Ah."

"Are you alright, King?"

"It is alright. I'm fine." The boy answers. "The toll did bring me exhaustion and agony. But I can handle the pain." Noah narrowed his eyes. "Who is with you, Julian?"

"These are our people. Diener des Lichts, the "Servants of Light" in mundane tongue. They serve the clairvoyants for many generations. They are here to bring you good news, my king." Julian says, and then in his back appeared people with moss-covered shawls. Their faces were dark because of shadows looming inside their cloaks. The king cannot see their faces.

"Enlighten me."

Julian nodded. A three thud in his staff followed, and then they were transported into the barrier where Noah lived on for years. The Room of Sanct.i.ty. A place connected to the Sacred Ground, a hidden s.p.a.ce inside the castle.

Noah stood in the midst of the ground, at the center of the magic circle. The mages started to chant silently as magic circles glowed in his body as they surround the entirety of the vast. He winced as he felt the burning pain of magic in his body. He clenched his fist.

"Tell me about your 'good news'." Noah says.

"We must tell the great Octavius first." Julian says. "I must tell him and we shall tell you after, Noah."

"I see."

"Now I should cast my spell and..."

Noah clutched his chest and then backed away from Julian, faking his sleep; faking his body's loss of consciousness. He calmly closed his eyes as he fell 'asleep'

And it took him few moments before he opened his eyes once more, sapphire blue glinting with asperity, a smirk daubed over his face. A façade he practiced for years in secrecy.

"What news is this child talking about?" Noah asks; his voice laced with a forged and certain ascerbity.

Julian smiled, and bowed, hand on his chest.

"The possible cure for this curse." Julian answers. "For years we researched to make this vessel stable and we found out that the instability deemed permanent if not addressed. The altering of the curse was as fatal as we predicted."

"That seemed a bad news rather than a good one, isn't it?"

Julian smiles. "But the Mages and the Clairvoyants came up with a theory that may be a possible cure for the child's unstable body... and the curse as well."

Noah narrowed his eyes, pretending to be the first king.

"What is it?"

Julian turned to the Diener des Lichts, as they walked soundlessly forward; their moss-covered shawls moving with fluidity. They spoke in unison, an eerie whisper escaping their lips.

"A Heilen…" They whispered. "The Heilen blood. Bind thy soul to the other. The mana of two combined. The mana of two coursing together. Nine souls will be in the Heilen's care."

"What does that mean?" Asks Noah.

"The probable end of Nightmare itself is directly correlated to the roots of the Forsaken."

"Nightmare should not be ended. This will end the first king's soul. He will not be able to wake anymore." Julian answers. "Please tell us more about how to sustain the king's life. How to sustain the vessels body."

"No. I shall hear about how Nightmare will end." Noah insists.
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"Nightmare shall end with a Heilen blood. There is a real Heilen born."

"A Heilen?! Th-that's impossible..." Julian says.

"Our masters, the clairvoyants, foresaw a Heilen and the Forsaken. The 'Prophecy' starts with you, Noah Ecclesiastes."

"N-noah?" Julian exclaims, his eyes widening in fear as his gaze s.h.i.+fted to the king. "Noah! Y-you're!"

Noah smirked, as Julian's staff pressed on his left chest, the clockhand slowly slipping off from the IX, switching to I.

"What is happening?" The king thundered. "JULIAN ORTFALCON!"

"Your Majesty, calm down..."

The king's sapphire eyes glared with an arctic freeze. His blue eyes were as cold as ice.

"How impudent." He says with a calm tremor on his voice. "That child learned to create his own plans."