Guest Post: Family Meeting


(Here’s a guest post from friend Ashley Lewis enjoy)

Family Meeting

by: Ashley Lewis

 

 

The event that touched the souls of many within the kingdom brought the mourning, devastation and many speculations towards what goes on in the halls of a strong and powerful bloodline that ruled over the lands of the Lamian people. Through strength in numbers the Lamians have grown to be the most powerful in their lands but with this known fact came the lies and the humiliation that knocked at their doorstep. The death of the Queen plagued the lands. People were outraged for answers. Was it murdering or was it suicide? Did the queen experience a sadness that eventually overwhelmed her to dig out the hidden courage within to plunge to her death from the highest point of her room? Many could not answer without drowning into more questions.

Her children that she left behind, did they mean nothing? Behind she left her daughter and son, twins at the age of ten. Both had mourned differently. For the daughter, she questioned as the people did and she also blamed. She pointed her fingers towards the new addition to the family. Someone she was expected to call little brother but he didn’t share the similarities as her family did, however, her father swore on the deceased king that once stood proudly as a respectful king, that the white-haired child was surely his blood. The queen held no position to question her king if this were true, even if the child did not deliver from her wound.

The son had mourned his fallen mother by staying silent about how he felt. Within the bitterness and insensitivity was pouring from his reflection whenever his sister acknowledged his lack of remorse for what news was spreading from village to growing empires. And here they all sat. A struggling father and king without his queen. A mourning princess that sought revenge on the mole that was included in their family and a prince that silently bathed into the melody of his father’s music flowing from his fingers over the keys of the piano.

The youngest prince who was also referred to as the mole in their family had resided in the common halls with his nurse to speak personally about his feelings over the situation without the unwelcomed backlashed from his vile sister he too had trouble referring to as a sister. Flymith was the princess name. She sat on the red velvet Victorian couch with her brother. A goblet resting on her lap and half cup full of blood from one of the slaves they had executed after she falsely accused the slave of attempting to rape her. One could only imagine what a king did to that slave, unimaginable. Her brother, prince Faelin studied his father’s rapid fingers stabbing at the keys furiously. It was difficult for him to not comment on what he was watching.

“You show anger over sadness, father. Why show irritation? We’ve done all you’ve asked. The people took weeks to properly bury her where she belonged even as her body began to rot and smell of death and worms rested in her sockets from where her eyes once rested.”

Flymith gasped and clenched her goblet uncomfortably. Her brother could be very detailed and horrid at times. It was just her luck in that splitting image that her mind would courageously gather up the picture perfectly within her thoughts. Her father paused from his son’s description.

“That woman was your mother. Why must you lack respect?”

“I only demonstrate what I am taught.” He responded. “The people want answer yet we can give them nothing. Sister has rallied up her personal crowd to blame Elaroy,” Elaroy was the mole. The half prince finally was given a name. “Will you marry the mother he has come from? Will she be queen and will I have to call her mother too?”

This turned Flymith’s emotionless expression into a twisted, outraged look. “I will NOT call another woman my mother under any circumstance. That mole was the cause of all this. I just know it. Mother leap due to sadness and silenced over what duties and principles of what a queen can do. She took it to her grave because she never was given the chance to speak her voice on what she couldn’t understand. Father,” she sighed. The golden goblet was place on the coffee table perfectly aligned before her brother and herself. “Why did you hold this from mother so long? When in your life did you ever have the chance to mate with another, lower class wench and create that stain that you’ve placed onto this family.”

The once beautiful keys were screaming when fingers slammed over the notes with rage. The king looked to his daughter. She fell silent. His eyes turned to look to his son. The prince was smiling over his reaction. “You know nothing. The both of you know nothing.”

Faelin lifted his rested head from the palm of his hand. “Then share with us so we can. We’re your children, we have the right to know.”

“How should I know these things? Do you know why your mother took her life? I know not if it’s because I decided as an honest and respectful king as I aim to be, such as my father was, if Elaroy is the reason for my wife taking her life because she couldn’t accept a child that is not hers. Call him what you will but he is your brother. He carries my blood, your blood, our blood. He can feast on those for strength and power such as you do. We are monsters who rule. We will tell the people what we think they must hear and leave it at that. As I did at her funeral. “

There was a chill in the room after hearing that. This was enough to force Flymith from her comfortable spot. She didn’t need to hear more from her father. The acceptance would be on her part but she wouldn’t participate if she didn’t need to. On the other hand, she didn’t personally know how her twin felt about this. He didn’t really seem to have any emotion towards Elaroy or his mother’s death. This left her to believe that deep down he had accepted both and that angered her. She stormed from the room slamming the giant doors shut and leaving a son with his father, alone.

Faelin reached for the goblet to drink the rest of the half full cup of blood. The bland taste caused for the young prince to feature a sour display. King Turk stood to make his way towards the wet windows near the balcony. The tears from the heavens were mourning the loss of the queen and the battle of lights flickered in the sky to show their way of welcoming her home. He placed his hand onto the cold glass. The outline of his prints stained the moist frame. How he missed her and how deeply he felt responsible for the tragic pain he brought onto her and the family.

“Truth is, son, I believed I was cursed and with that curse came Elaroy. I can’t remember too much from the times I left the kingdom with my men for chances to meet with smaller empires and creating alliances face to face with their leaders. I just knew that Elaroy was mine when I saw him. Sometimes you just know like those tales you fancy about the king who ruled everything but met his demise by the hands of an angel.” He turned away from the outside to look at his son. “It was an angel, wasn’t it or was it a demon that took the kings life?”

The prince gathered the story in his mind before bravely answering his father’s question. “You can say a demon but the king befriended the angel who had watched him die and with it came the fallen lands which is the very soil we taint with our wars, differences and power. It may be nothing more but a frightening fairy tale to some but every tale comes from truth. Somewhere in that story speaks truth. If we did not have that story then we wouldn’t have our gods or purposes.”

The king had smiled. “You are too smart for your age. Your sister too. Sometimes I wonder how I am blessed with such intelligent children. I miss your mother.” He finally admitted how he felt. Prince Faelin dropped his gaze before standing the same way his sister did but to approach his father standing by the window. Beautifully the kingdom stretched far and wide. The display looked like homes and businesses covered in the lights of giant fireflies. He continued. “There will be a day when you’ll be king and everything I’ve done, you’ll understand. Your sister will understand too.”

“What of Elaroy?” Faelin questioned. He wanted to know the fate of the one he called brother.

“Elaroy will set his own path but for now you think about you and your sister. I don’t want what has happened to my queen, happen to your sister. Make sure you always keep your sister close to you. You both are special. The both of you are all I have left.” To exclude Elaroy from that list finally made Faelin question the real purpose of his father’s relationship with him and the duties he would soon possess.

 

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