Decisions

Lord Oganesson walked down the dimly lit corridor, lost in thought. His Highness the Crown Prince really does like having that Easterner around, doesn’t he? The stranger just showed up a few days ago, and His Highness acts like he’s found his long lost friend. In fact, I would venture to guess that it’s more than just-

He stopped himself as he approached the king’s private chamber. But who am I to judge? People have said worse things about me.

He knocked on the door. “Your Majesty?” he said in Heliglossan.

“You may come in,” came the reply.

Lord Oganesson unlocked the door and opened it slowly. He saw King Xenon standing before an altar in silence. The mosaic of the late queen loomed high on the wall between them. He quietly closed the door.

“Izel,” King Xenon said, his eyes still fixed on the altar. “Please answer this question as my advisor. How many days do we have before the Southern Region’s forces reach our city walls?”

Lord Oganesson looked down at the floor. “It is hard to say…”

King Xenon turned to face him. “You can be honest with me.”

“I spoke to the soldier from Umaraq,” Lord Oganesson said, looking up at the king. “He said it took him three days riding almost nonstop to get here. And that’s with him knowing exactly where to go and being familiar with the terrain. For an invading army who is unfamiliar with our land, assuming they are not invading any other cities along the way, I’d say a week, maybe even less.”

The king sighed loudly. Lord Oganesson looked downwards again. “I’m sorry I cannot bear more promising news.”

King Xenon turned back to the altar. He took a match from the tiny container on the ledge and struck it. Lighting the candles on the altar, he turned back to Lord Oganesson. “I suppose there is not much else we can do other than give offerings to the Goddess of Fire. If only the priestess were still here.” He blew out the match. “Of course, the fact that she is not here is my fault.”

Lord Oganesson looked at him sympathetically.

Turning back to face his advisor, King Xenon asked, “Izel, will you join me?”

“Yes, Xenon.”

Lord Oganesson walked over to the altar. The two then knelt before the statue of the goddess that stood at the center of the candles, bowed their heads, and closed their eyes.

“Goddess of Fire,” said King Xenon. “Please grant us hope in these trying times.”

Although there was no wind in the chamber, the candle flames flickered as if they were acknowledging the king’s words. After a moment of silence, the king stood up. Lord Oganesson followed suit.

“Xenon,” Lord Oganesson said. “Should we evacuate the people of Ishkhandar? You are the king. You need to be the one to give the order.”

King Xenon looked downward. “It is a thought that has troubled me for years, ever since I first learned of the prophecy.”

“But is it really set in stone? Isn’t there still a chance that things could turn out differently?”

The king sighed. “If I give the order to evacuate now, there will be widespread panic. The people will be defenseless if they are scattered outside Ishkhandar and run into the Southern Region forces. If we keep the people here, defended by our soldiers within our city walls, they can survive a little longer. We have granaries filled with food, qanats to channel water underground from the mountains, doctors to heal the sick and wounded. Enough to last months of a siege.”

“And what if our soldiers cannot hold off the invaders?” Lord Oganesson asked. His face was flushed and his eyes became watery. “Everyone will be trapped here. They’ll suffer the same fate as Umaraq and all the other cities.”

“Ishkhandar is our capital. If everyone abandons it, the whole empire is lost.” The king slowly walked along the wall until he was right under the mosaic of the late queen. He placed his forehead against the cold tiles. “Fate. It is both the kindest and cruelest thing.”

Lord Oganesson blinked a few times and exhaled. “Then no one is leaving?”

The king turned and looked at his advisor. “No. There is one person who must. And I need to speak with him right now.”