Emperor of Legendia

Twenty days later, they all reached Legendia. As per the tradition, a king should not be buried until two months. The bodies are applied with a special coating and wrapped in linen assuring the body does not undergo decay. Marco ordered Crevol’s body to be buried along with the king too. Meanwhile, the captives were sent to the prison. Trials were carried on every single one of them. Their families were called and judgements were imposed on them. Some were set free on long term social service. Most of them were imprisoned for a finite period with a promise to set them free if proved to be of better behaviour and fit for the community. Once freed, they would be assigned various tasks to carry out and serve the Legendians under Marco’s order. They would be given a choice later, to return to their mother lands or reside in any of the Legendian territories. They probably would chose Hul and Elgenim as they preferred living isolated from rest of the world. However, this would also fulfil the much needed labour for greater development of Hul and Elgenim.

Marco rested on his mother’s lap. She ran her fingers through his silky hair and soothed his forehead. Sitting besides the small pool shaped like a diamond, Marco gazed up at his mother. She smiled back at him. Marco felt the cold water flowing through his hand drenched in the pool, “Ma...”, he said.

“Yes, love?”

“Do you want to go back to Irasy?”

His mother glanced down the vast hallway of the Great Castle. They were resting by a pool of fresh drinking water built in the hallway. “You have given me more than I ever asked for. I shall never urge you for more.”

“You never asked for anything, mother. Also, you must not ponder on petite things that I provide you. My life time service for you, will nothing be compared to what you did for me... Moreover, you are the great forgotten Queen Eulbethra of Irasy.”, Marco smiled with a tilt in his head.

She bowed her head as a thanks giving and raised a finger, “But one small mistake... I am the great mother Eulbethra of the Great Emperor Marco of Legendia.”

Marco chuckled, “That was such a pathetic line, ma.”

Eulbethra laughed and cupped her hands and drank some water from the pool. The huge door suddenly stormed open and a guard dashed in towards Marco. “Apology... your highness! But you must see this!”

It was quite late at night when Marco followed the guard out to the entrance of the Great Castle. His black cape followed behind his tight fitted and cushion padded black royal suit. Shortly, Eulbethra emerged from behind. Bewildered, Marco dropped his arms and gaped at the sky.

Huge eagles and hawks along with a flock of birds Marco never saw before, veiled the sky above the Great Castle in circles. Huge black crow like birds perched on the pointed fences of the front yard across the entrance. The unknown species of bird descended on the cavernous archway above the oaken doors. They looked like a group of flying horses that held a striking resemblance to an eagle. The inner courtyard was soon filled tiny wild cats all over the perimeter. They jumped in through the high fence like it was a piece of cake for them. The guards at the towers aimed for the cats but Marco raised his hand and motioned them to stay still. Marco saw something shoot down the middle of the full moon. In a flicker, a beast landed down five yards in front of Marco and dust gushed up sideways. Grey eyes glistened in the moonlight. Though Marco was not losing his wit, his heart was still racing. Marco tore his eyes towards the sky one last time to see the birds scattered and perched at the four towers of the Castle. He turned back to the black tiger, long as Grozzald, only a bit shorter. Marco gave a nervous smile and bowed low.

“I am Moog, the ruler and keeper of the Grol Gardens. Are you the current king of Legendia?”, the black tiger said. Its voice was heavy and man like. There was strength in his voice befitting a commander of all animals.

Marco quickly nodded in amusement, “Marco Hymes. I am pleased to meet you.”

“We have assembled here to bid a worthy farewell to the great wizard William Zimon. He was a great friend and a person I could always rely on.”, Moog growled, “May I have the honour to give a last glance to his resting excellence.”

“Sure.”

Marco told Moog that he was kept in the royal mortuary at the castle’s end. The guards were ordered to bring out Zimon with care and place him in the courtyard. He was concealed in a silver coffin on top of which was engraved in golden letters, ‘ZIMON WILLIAM, SIXTH EMPEROR OF LEGENDIA’. The sides of the coffin were artistically lined with blue sapphire embedded at the top and bottom, creating two parallel lines of jewels. Marco explained that the lid could not be opened now as the body was covered in linen completely.

“I apologize for arriving at night.”, Moog said to Marco, “The day light would have caught too much of attention.”

“It’s fine. Tomorrow is the final ceremony and the burial so you chose the right time.”

Moog glanced at Zimon, then looked in the sky and let out a mighty roar, so loud that it was heard at the Gates of Legendia. The eagles and hawks suddenly flapped in motion and circled above the coffin. Their claws opened and down fell multi coloured flowers of Grol Gardens. The petals shone as they fell over the coffin. Soon, all the cats neared up around the coffin and purred in a melodious manner. Marco felt Goosebumps when they purred in unison, like an enchantment, like a low hum in a whisper. Moog then fluttered its large wings and stood on its hind legs. With a soft thud it landed its front feet on the ground. When the ritual was over, Moog approached Marco and said, “May I have the privilege to take Zulfain back with me?”

The question came by surprise to Marco. He never thought he would have to return Zulfain. “Oh,”, Marco stammered, “...well, I request you to lend him to me for a few more days. I have some unfinished business with him.”

“Then take your time, Master Marco. We must leave now.”, Moog turned around and roared again.

Marco bowed to the majestic beast. Then, Moog shot up just like Zulfain does and darted past everything, followed by the flying creatures, on which were crouched the wild cats. Marco stood there for long as he saw the last creature disappearing into the sky like a twinkling of a star.

Next day, was the day of burial. Two coffins of Zimon and Crevol, lay sided by side in the Great Hall. Marco’s throne was replaced by these coffins. Meshed up with thousands of coloured sheets of clothes, the ceiling was decorated above these coffins. The multi coloured clothes came falling down in loops of spiral shapes, stopping just above each of the coffins. Marco stood on the threshold of the stage besides Peter. People kept on pouring in the hall in a long queue to have a closer glimpse of the coffins. Bunch of flowers kept on filling the table set behind the coffins. Not far from the coffins, Marco’s mother was seated right opposite to Marco with two guards besides her. She was almost on the verge of breaking into tears. Peter elbowed to Marco and pointed at the queue. Peter’s sister, Julie Lim along with Emma Homy entered the hall. Dressed in black gown, they proceeded towards the coffins and laid the flowers on the table. Julie then walked up to Eulbethra to console her. Marco was caught off guard when he suddenly found himself facing Emma. Peter cleared his throat, “I’ll see you in a moment.”, and left.

Emma gave a pity smile. “It’s alright.”, Marco said and she gazed down at her feet. Her beauty was spectacular. It was just the right beauty Marco could ever dream of. Marco adored her green eyes the most. The hair that fell from the front and rested on her cheek was splendid in every aspect. Her presence lightened up Marco.

“It’s so soothing to my heart... to see you standing here... victorious.”, she said and bent her head in respect.

“Your prayers took care of me Emma.”, Marco replied with a smile.

“Am I... bothering you... I mean,”, Emma blushed, “...interrupting your work or something?”

“No, no... not at all.”, Marco snorted, “Well... apart from standing here all day long... if that’s what you call work.”

“Okay...”, she lazily tapped her foot, “Maybe I must go for now...”

“Yeah...”

Emma turned around and started to head towards the doorway when Marco shouted out of impulse. “Emma?” She flung her head around. A few old men and women sitting on nearby chairs were startled by Marco’s sudden loud voice.

“Sorry...”, Marco mouthed.

“Yes?”, Emma said.

“I’m too busy this evening... but, can I probably see you at sunset for a short while?”

Emma blushed more. She merely nodded gazing at her feet.

“At the pool of River Keto?”, Marco asked.

Some more silent nods followed.

Marco watched her slim tall figure walk out the hall wondering if he made it pretty obvious that he was asking her out. Just as he saw Marvelo approaching from the corner, a very old couple, fragile and weak, arrived on a chair mounted on wooden wheels. The chairs were pushed by two men each donning a turban and ankle length loose white robes. They stopped near the stage, then grabbed the couple by their arms and helped them stand up. They climbed the stairs with caution and very slowly, with the men supporting them by their sides. They directly approached the either sides of Zimon’s coffin. Marco saw that they started weeping bitterly as they passed their hands through the coffin. The weeping old woman bent across and kissed the lid of the coffin and she remained there for what seemed like forever. Marco felt very curious at this situation as nobody had wept as them this day for Zimon. Marco called for Richard, the chief supervisor of public internal affairs.

“Your highness has summoned for me?”, Richard said.

“Tell me, do you know them...those old couple on the stage?”

“Oh...yes ofcourse, your highness. They are the parents of late Crypus Crevol.”

“Mr. Crevol...?”, Marco repeated surprisingly, “But they seem to mourn for Lord Zimon more. They haven’t checked for their son yet.”

“My Lord, Lord Zimon’s loss is a loss to everyone. Moreover, Lord Zimon used to visit them quite often and bonded extremely close to them.”

“Hmm...”.

It was soon the time of burial for the great Emperor of Legendia. The burial took place at the backyard of the castle itself. All the previous kings and queens of Legendia were buried in this graveyard. Marco felt that Crevol had an equal right to be buried at the same place. Many counsellors had a quarrel over Marco’s decisions but he ignored their plee. “They were like brothers.”, he had said.

Olgreg Hymes and Lady Fiera were also present at the funeral. Olgreg was enlightening Marco with the outside news. “People speak foul of Zimon in the north.”, he had said to Marco. He was least interested about it. Olgreg told how the Northern Province held a meeting of magicians to judge Legendia’s faith in terms of relationships and trade with foreign countries. They deemed Zimon to be involved with the Dark Lord for years, fearing their societies must be under spell cast by Zimon. Some of his friends opposed the committee but they were pressurized to back off by the higher levels. “Fairly, they are jealous of Legendia’s victory.”, Olgreg had said to Marco at the breakfast. “Engeria and Gobbut are still high on their pride; unwilling to accept their involvement in the war. I advise you to crush their army once you’ve settled.”

Marco assured Olgreg that he already had something on his mind. An old saint prayed the final verses and asked Marco for the proceedings. Marco stared at the coffin for long and then nodded silently. A beautiful tombstone was erected by the grave with Zimon’s full name, designation and period of his life etched on it. The casket lids were opened and both the coffins descended into the grave side by side. Marco didn’t blink an eye until the casket was sealed. Their graves were covered with a long so called royal coffin dress. It was a superstition that the cloth ensures peace to the soul. The crowd dispersed and so did Olgreg and Fiera. “Please do visit Irasy often. It’s your home.”, Fiera said to Eulbethra. They hugged each other heartily. The graveyard was empty now except Marco who stood there staring at the etched words; WILLIAM ZIMON...

The silence of his grave sank in Marco’s heart and he felt Zimon was smiling at him from beneath the earth. A hand touched Marco’s shoulder. It was Peter.

“My friend... come... there’s work to be done.”