Generations of kings had gone before him and their reigns had passed flawlessly. His would be the same, but he wished it weren’t so.

Pyram,

    Take Eofyn to the town faire today. Sunlight would be good for him.

                                                                               Thank you,

                                                                                    Arisan

That would do. He sighed and went back to his thoughts. There were things to be done and only a few months in which to accomplish them. It wasn’t enough time, but then again, it never would be.

The Pure Fyre was an instinct for him now. Ever since his father had passed it on to him, he’d developed his bond with the Pure Fyre on his own, as would Eofyn when the time came for him to take the throne of Gelyfed. The gift had served him well; informing him through the age-old wisdom of his ancestors in Bryta which crops should be planted when, which medicines would cure which illnesses, whether or not the whole land of Curnen was secure and as it should be. But he’d managed to take it the necessary step further, as the times had called for.

The Pure Fyre was not just a gift of instinctual wisdom, it was the right to a connection to the wisdom and experience of those who came before him, but no one had experienced what he felt was coming. New circumstances called for new techniques. So he had asked the dwellers of Bryta for something suitable and they had delivered. The lines of communication on a more tangible plane were now open to him and he could use them to address matters of a broader spectrum of concerns, namely King Afor of Gaernod.

That man was an interesting creature, and the vibrations of Curnen had begun to buzz with the tensions of his jealousy. It had escalated to the point of concern, and that meant that it was time for Arisan to address it before Afor’s tantrum got out of hand, yet again.

There was a knock at the door.

“Come in.”

Griselde looked pale. Apparently, Pyram had been successful again. Arisan kept his proud smile to himself.

“Your Majesty, I apologize.”

“You’re looking a bit weary today, Griselde. Why don’t you find some time to for yourself this afternoon?”

Griselde smiled at the floor and let out a single, airy laugh. “Your Majesty, that boy has done it again. He’s taken the prince outside of the castle.”

“So I’d assumed. But it’s a lovely day, Griselde. I’m sure they’ll be fine.”

“My apologies, sir, but it is my job to know where the prince is and be sure of his safety at all times. I will not feel at ease until I find him. I’ve only come to apologize and promise you that I will make sure he’s found as soon as possible.”

She pressured herself too much, no matter how often Arisan tried to reassure her. Her crystal was barely gleaming a warning, but why she didn’t listen to it he’d never know. The children— now young men—would be fine. They’d been doing this to her for years. Her graying hair reflected that. Arisan had never meant to stress her so when he’d first asked Pyram to escape the castle with Eofyn, but the outings were good for his son and Griselde couldn’t see that reason regardless of who tried showing it to her.

“I trust in your abilities, Griselde, as should you. If they are to be found, there is no one more qualified to find them than you are.”

Griselde smiled sheepishly at that, her head sinking between her shoulders at the flattery. With a quiet nod, she quickly backed out of the room, no doubt losing that happy face the minute the door was sealed to replace it with one of a more determined nature. Pyram would have a lot on his plate when she caught up to him.

But the woes of today would be nothing to toil over tomorrow. That was one of Gelyfed’s true gifts. The Fyre provided means, but the people had heart, and room enough in their hearts for swift forgiveness.

The people of Gelyfed were precious to him, and he had to protect them.

He left his room to seek out the cool morning air at the front of the castle. There, with a clearer mind, he could attend to his heavy task.

The glass door of the throne room opened for him with little complaint, swinging freely as if in prelude to the wonderful sounds of the thriving, bustling city. He stepped forward to join the only companion in Gelyfed who could understand his troubles, but this friend had no voice with which to share advice. Swelgan, the imposing stone dragon, sat quiet and still as he had for every age of time before this day. He could listen, but this dragon would only respond with swift action at a time that Arisan was not eager to see.

But it was coming. And there was only one thing he could do.

He took a deep breath and focused, delving into his mind to extend his reach beyond his city and to the one he needed to speak to most.

The door opened and shut loudly behind him.

“Your Highness, I do apologize,” Darian said as he came up behind Arisan.

The king sighed to himself and turned to face his friend. “What can I help you with, Darian?”

“Sir, I just needed to inform you, that Griselde has gone out into the town to look for Pyram and Eofyn. Though, I’m assuming their outing is at your request. I did try to delay her, but she was…rather motivated.”

Arisan and Darian both smiled at that.

“Thank you, Darian. I was aware. I had spoken with her just before she left, but I appreciate your efforts. Eofyn needs to know his people, and Pyram is just the man to teach him. I’m sure Pyram will avoid Griselde for as long as possible. He’s quite good at that.”

There was a moment of silence before Arisan asked the question that had become even more crucial of late. “How are they, Darian?”

This question was common. Darian looked at his king and then out to the city. He instinctively reached for the crystal around his neck, waiting for the news that it would give.

“The lights will be as bright as ever tonight, Your Majesty. All is well.” His tone was calm, but his eyes meant to be subtle in their questioning sideways glance. They were not, but Arisan couldn’t give him any more information. Not until he was sure of it himself.

Instead of an explanation, Arisan simply thanked Darian, and the request for solitude was understood. Darian left the way he had come.

With the lights of his people in mind, Arisan hung his head. Somewhere out there his son was learning. The people were safe, and they knew it.

Oh, but they were wrong.

Again he sank into the depths of his own mind, looking for the voices that awaited him there. Time and time again they’d guided him to the best decisions for his people, and so now, even though he dreaded their suggested course of action more than ever before, he couldn’t deny that it was the wisest choice.

They met him there, in his heart, and they gave him waves of comfort to still his nerves. This was right.

The connection was made. Arisan was no longer thinking only to himself and to the souls that guided him, but another had joined the company.

“Afor.”

The grudging response was almost immediate. Afor’s words rang in his head like a shout in a cave, echoing and pushing down on him with the bitterness of a thousand ages.

“Afor, the time is coming soon.”

He could hear the eagerness in Afor’s response as it rang in his mind.

“I know you’ve been planning for this day. I know I can’t stop you, and I know it will be only a matter of time before you hear…” Arisan paused. There was no need to speak of that now. He steadied himself with a breath and continued before Afor could question him further. “I only ask that you show mercy to my son.”

The response was not what Arisan had hoped for, but it was exactly what he’d expected. A fool, Afor had called him, well perhaps he was, but matters were no longer his to control.

He reached a hand out for support and found the sturdy foundation of the dragon statue to his side. He looked up, into the eyes of the statue. In his mind those eyes shifted to him, filled with nothing and everything. They judged him and comforted him. They scolded and encouraged. But nothing could prevent what was coming, and therefore Arisan’s fear would never be settled. This dragon was stirring, and he knew that its twin must be too. In Gaernod. He closed his eyes to focus on Darian’s words only a few minutes ago. “All is well.”

Yes, it was. Today, all was well. He breathed again, cast his eyes to the city, and saw that his son was returning. Pyram held Eofyn in front of him while Eofyn held his left eye and laughed. Griselde followed them both, seething with anger. So there had been a fight. Well, that was not exactly what Arisan had hoped for when he’d instructed Pyram to take Eofyn into town, but his son appeared to be well enough. There was a smile twitching at the corner of Eofyn’s mouth, struggling to hide itself from Griselde.

All was well.

Today.

For now…