Years

Fulcher watched the numerous guards around the staircase as they lowered their shields and blades away from their chests. All eyes were trained at the top of the stairs as a man walked into view. He wore flowing gold robes, accented with red scales. His body was covered in what looked like golden tattoos, his shaven head adorned with a small crown styled to look like the sun. He smiled as he began to walk down the grand steps.

“So soon you return to us, your pilgrimage is complete?” he asked. The Chronomancer nodded his head, pulling back his hood to show his face to The King.

“Indeed, indeed. I learned much wandering the wastes, speaking with its people, observing its beasts. The sands sung to me clearer than ever before,” he responded. The King clapped as he lowered himself to the fifth step from the bottom, stopping there so as to remain taller than everyone.

“Very good, very good,” he said, “and I see you have brought me guests. I had not anticipated further contact from The North…” Fulcher and Schon got out of the wagon, helping Vardia down as each of them bowed their heads toTthe King.

“Your Highness, they come from The Northlands seeking aid in halting their tyrant Lord and seeking to re-establishing connection between our kingdoms. Our ancient peace,” the robed man explained. The King's eyes swept across the three of them, staring intently at the wagon.

“And who is he that does not draw his eyes upon me?” he demanded. “Who is he that thinks himself better than The Kings of Man?” Akaj sat up, grunting as he leaned forward on the wagon.

“The Prince of Flame!” he responded. “So good to see you again, Mnguni. And in your own birth time too!”

“Flameweaver,” The King said, lowering himself to the second step. “What business do you have in my lands? You should have announced your coming so we could have prepared a feast.” Akaj waved his hand, motioning towards Fulcher.

“I am actually just a guide on this adventure. It's his tale that I think you should listen to, not mine,” Akaj responded with a grin. The King looked at Fulcher dismissively at first, but lowered himself to the first step.

“Any who draw the aid of The Flameweaver is someone worth listening to at least. You said you came seeking aid against a Tyrant King?”

“My father-” Fulcher said.

“He enslaves our people, cuts off our Kingdom, and admonishes our sacred duties!” The King interrupted. “I am aware of Cruel King Dilyniant. I am aware at least in passing of you, Prince Fulcher. Your reputation proceeds you, and it speaks ill of the man I am looking at now. You would take your father's place?”

“I would,” Fulcher began, “and I would want to re-establish trade, reinstate The Scribes of the Librarum, and stop the trade of slaves in my Kingdom altogether.” The King glanced over at Akaj, who shrugged.

“The boy dreams. It is good, no?” Akaj offered. The King looked back at Fulcher.

“Even if you speak true that you do not share your father’s ideals, is that enough? Do you share your father's strength? Do you share your father's conviction? Can you rule your Kingdom correctly? Or will you just be overthrown by his inevitable successor? If I am to lend my soldiers, my people, and my faith to your cause I must know for certain that you hold the capabilities of a true King. Not just some pretender aiming for the throne,” The King said, his tone irritated.

“But I could help your people, and-” Fulcher began.

“An alliance with The North is a luxury!” The King interrupted again. “It is not necessary for our survival. As nice as it is to exchange the cultures of our peoples, we have seen what the alliances with your kingdoms have brought us in the past! If the desert did not separate our lands, your father would already be sending troops to our walls.” Fulcher’s lip twitched in frustration. He closed his eyes for a moment and calmed himself.

“You’re right. So, how do I prove myself to be strong enough? How do I earn your favor?” he asked. The King looked him over with newfound curiosity.

“You will complete our right of strength and spirit. You will bring forth a thunder lizard. If you can do such a thing, then I know The Gods will have blessed you with their favor. Should you fail and die, so too would my people have died if I had promised you aid," he said. Fulcher felt a rush of warm wind behind him, peering over his shoulder. He saw swirling sands that gave way to a glistening golden portal. On the other side he could see a small village in a thick jungle. He turned back to look at The King.

“What, like… you want me to tame a dinosaur? I don’t really know anything about doing that, why not instead we just–” Fulcher was caught in the middle of his words as The King's sandal collided with his chest. He was sent stumbling and fell backwards through the portal. As he hit the ground on the other side the swirling sands began to tumble and close around themselves before Schon or Vardia could get inside. Before the portal fully closed though the leaping form of Arrow made it through, landing next to Fulcher with a huff and licking his face. Fulcher leaned over and immediately threw up for the second time that day. Something about this time travel magic just didn't sit well with his stomach.

“You were right,” the voice of The King said from behind him. “He does not travel well at all.” Fulcher turned around to find The King standing behind him with The Chronomancer who had found them in the desert.

“What? But you were on the other side?” Fulcher said as he wiped the vomit from his mouth. The King smiled down at him.

“Let us see if you have the thunder in your heart.”


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Author's Note!
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Heya readers! Thanks so much for enjoying Necessary Patricide.
While I've kept up with the weekly schedule of five chapters every Sunday so far, I'll be taking a break for this week (8/18 - 8/24) in order to attend a concert at Radio City Music Hall in New York City next weekend!
Expect the story of Fulcher & Friends to resume in full on August 31st, with 5 fresh chapters!
See you there!