by W. C. Jasper
It was the 16th day of the eighth month, which was in the middle of the pre-monsoon season. Jerudia, Devaar, Ketaar, Sitno, and Paang experienced six seasons in a year. The first two months of the year were the winters. The third and fourth months were spring. The fifth and sixth months were summer. The seventh and eighth months were pre-monsoon which gradually tamed the heat and humidity in the atmosphere. The next two months were the rainy monsoon. And the final two months of the year were autumn.
He had hardly slept the night before the first day of his new assignment. The earnest lad who took pleasure in dutifulness was as excited as a child receiving his most awaited present. He reported to the King’s Courts with his face glowing in excitement. He had arrived far earlier than his appointed reporting time and wore his armour and helm meant for guards in the Royal Palace with great pride. His bow and quiver hung on his back and his longsword on his waist. His soldier-like sincerity and earnestness were radiating on his face. The hall of the meeting was grandly high and certainly felt how a royal hall inside the Royal Palace ought to feel. But it was also elegant in its sobriety. For almost 15 minutes or so, he admired the beauty of the courts while struggling to pay his full mind to keeping watch as his job was. Muscles all over his body were wound tightly with tension due to his overstressed dutifulness and anxiety of the first day on the job. The only other three guards in the hall stood in perfect attention. Only four guards were allowed inside the hall during such meetings due to the sensitive nature of the information being discussed. As the tenth hour of the day approached, the meeting party started arriving one by one. And the first one, and far too early to arrive was Prince Jared.
Prince Jared was a handsome and charming man. And even though his handsomeness and beauty were nowhere close to his elder brother’s, he was the only man in Jerudia whom the women desired almost as much as the King. Both of them had physiques in the likeness of demigods, and yet the two were built vastly differently from each other. Prince Jared’s skin was the colour of golden-brown desert sand and had a dusky complexion that looked quite dark indoors, yet shone like golden sand in the sunlight. Unlike his brother’s smooth and flawless skin, Prince Jared’s skin was visibly imperfect. Despite the roughness and the imperfections in his skin, it had the spell to tantalize women. He had a humble and gorgeous beard, a vast forehead with a very deep widow’s peak, and the hint of a unibrow. His imperfectly stacked teeth that he inherited from his mother only added to his charm. His unusually long and curly eyelashes and big ears that complemented his face perfectly also went well with his dark and curly hair that hung well below his shoulders. His captivating, dark brown eyes like two smoky quartzes would have slowed down time for anyone who stared into it. They somehow carried colossal power and unyielding stubbornness; yet also disarming gentleness, tranquillity, and submissive humility at the same time. His body had the frame of royalty and at the same time was built like the most magnificent warrior on the planet. At 5 feet 8 inches, his stature was average for the land of Jerudia.
Thaymas had an uncanny visual gift that looked deeper into things than most people could see (things of the seen as well as the unseen realm). Thaymas was stationed inside the hall where the meeting would take place. He was positioned next to the main entrance at the left-hand side of the door. Another guard stood at the right-hand side of the door, and one guard each stood at both sides of the King’s throne. As Prince Jared was nearing the door, he could feel the air about him change even before the Prince’s shadow falling through the door that was facing the morning sun became visible. It was as if the air had suddenly become denser and charged with electricity and was restraining itself from exploding.
By the time Prince Jared arrived at the door, Thaymas’ mind was already on high alert, eagerly looking forward to what was essentially the first time he would be beholding the Prince. Prince Jared was a man who walked at a great pace most of the time. He walked with purpose and with a focused gait. When the Prince entered through the door, Thaymas’ exceptional eyes and mind were perceiving and processing information at an inhuman speed. The very first thing he sensed was the aura of pure, undiluted royalty. The second thing he sensed was a physical giant in an average-sized body. He could somehow sense the hidden physical strength five or six times greater than what could possibly be housed in a body that size. His mind was operating in such speeds that in that moment of less than a second, he had pondered already whether the Prince had some magic in his blood, or if it was the power of special potions, or if his own mind was shaken by the awe of being in the Royal Palace and was making him perceive that which did not even exist. As soon as the Prince entered the hall, by some instinct or just by chance, he turned to his left and stared right into Thaymas’ eyes. His face was inexpressive for the most part, but had a hint of solemnness. What the Prince had seen, Thaymas had no idea; but he noticed that the Prince’s gentle and deeply humble eyes had a sharpness that was so piercing that it made him put up the guards in his mind. Without the slightest break in the flow of his walk throughout this whole episode, the Prince turned his eyes back to his path and continued walking.
The third thing that Thaymas noticed now was that the Prince had great prowess of perception as well, he knew that the Prince had gleaned something about him and had tucked away the thought for further consideration later. The fourth thing he observed despite the garments and cloak that he wore was that the Prince had a physique and a walk that screamed royalty and warrior-prowess at the same time. His long, Katana-like sword, hanging by the left side of his waist seemed perfectly at home on him as if the weapon was crafted for him alone and could not be more becoming of him. The green hilt and sheath were decorated with intricate platinum designs and diamonds. And the platinum caps on the ends of the hilt and sheath were lined with small emeralds. The final thing that stayed with him for a long time was that the Prince was somehow suppressing and hiding something about the core of his existence or his identity. This mystery bothered him until the day he would learn the truth of this secret. In the one second that Thaymas got to glimpse him for, he had learned a great deal about the Prince, even things he himself knew not yet that he had already learned.
The Prince was dressed in royal blue with a garment so rich and regal that it exuded royalty. The platinum decorations and shiny silver-silk embroidery declared royalty; yet the attire was warrior-like, and ready for battle. Over that attire, he also wore a royal blue mantle with white silk insides. It had minute designs made of shiny silver-silk embroidery, platinum decorations, and an elegant hood. Two sizable, round, platinum collar studs sat on both clavicles, and his generalship pin hung on the left-hand side of his chest, befitting him perfectly. He walked over to the extremely long table in the centre and sat on the chair on the left side of the table that was closest to the King’s throne, resting his sheathed sword leaning against the table. He had carried with him a book and a sizable bag, which he now placed on the table. As soon as he took his seat; he opened the book, opened his big bag of food, and started downing chips in mouthful portions as he read his book.
For the next several minutes, as Thaymas observed him closely, not once did Prince Jared’s eyes stray from the book. Not even for a microsecond did his eyes ease off the book and neither did he show any mercy to the chips which were disappearing at a tremendous pace. As Thaymas stood attentively, pondering numerous thoughts about what the Prince might have perceived when he stared into his eyes, General Thayman arrived with his uncommonly and remarkably loud footsteps. His footsteps had given away his identity to Thaymas far before he had reached anywhere near the door.
This was not the first time Thaymas had to hide his relationship with his father. Ever since Thaymas joined the military about four months ago, General Thayman wanted the fact that he was his son to remain secret in order to avoid any undue favour for him in the military. He wanted Thaymas to earn his place in the military. As soon as General Thayman reached the door, Thaymas kept his face frozen, facing forward wi
th a locked gaze like that of a statue. General Thayman was in his physical prime even at the age of 84 years, which was extraordinary since the physical prime typically lasted till the late 70s. He was 5 feet 10 inches tall and built extraordinarily broad like a bison, and had an overwhelmingly powerful physical presence. His skin was dark like that of dark cocoa beans; and he had splendorous, greying dreadlocks hanging well below his shoulders. Despite his intimidating physical presence, his face was jocular and approachable, but could turn frightfully threatening in a single second if required.
General Thayman wore a black garment with intricate and lofty golden-silk embroidery as if such lofty artwork were reserved only for a legendary warrior. The distinguished rich fabric was becoming of a General and a Lord. Over the garment, he wore a black mantle with a crimson-silk inside and a large wyvern dragon sewn with golden-silk thread on the back. The mantle closed over the right breast with a thin gold chain that attached to a small golden pin below it. His generalship pin sat on the left breast of the mantle. His glorious, black and dark crimson traditional longsword (broader than most) with golden decorations and black shield decorated with dark crimson and gold designs rested on his back as usual. Yet he walked as if he were carrying nothing.
Walking towards Prince Jared, General Thayman greeted him, “Good Morning, Son. Your first time with the Council of Elders, eh! Should be interesting.” General Thayman had one of the most powerful and heavy voices, but he mostly spoke with a very friendly and cheerful tone. In particular, he always spoke to his nephew, Prince Jared, in a soft and affectionate tone. The Prince’s face lit up at once like a child meeting his father at the start of the day, but he corrected himself immediately and made his face blank again. He greeted him with a formal nod and spoke in a low register and a relatively blank tone, “Blessed to behold your face, Uncle.” He returned his eyes to his book and continued, “For a man as perceptive as you, I’m sure few things are uninteresting.” General Thayman chuckled in modest embarrassment, correcting his dreadlocks.
This was the first time Thaymas had heard Prince Jared’s voice. His deep, yet balanced voice was one of the fairest voices he had ever heard. It had a handsome and melodic charm to it and somehow carried the power of a strongman and the grace and gentleness of a mother. General Thayman took the seat exactly opposite to Prince Jared’s as he placed his longsword and shield on the ground without any audible sound. The table was far too wide for General Thayman to reach over and so he tapped twice on the table. Without taking his eyes off the book, Prince Jared pushed the bag of chips across the table and General Thayman proceeded to munch on the chips at a normal human pace as compared to the Prince who always devoured food as if the world were ending.
Without breaking away from his book, Prince Jared asked, “Did you really expect it to get past me, Uncle?”
With a soft, yet hearty laugh, General Thayman answered, “I knew it wouldn’t take you long, but already, huh? Well, it was bound to happen sometime. I am hoping I will receive a little less condemnation from our Queen now.”
General Thayman had a countenance that declared wisdom, and somehow, at the same time, oozed the mischief and playfulness of a child. He was a blinding light of charisma and charm whose very presence was therapeutic to the people around him.
Thaymas had guessed that he himself was the topic of their conversation but kept his face uninformed of the fact. General Thayman slid the bag of chips back to his nephew and sat back on his seat with his fingers interlocked on his lap, staring at and admiring his nephew reading his book as a father enjoys watching his children engage in their natural affairs.
Third to arrive was the King of Jerudia himself. In all other countries, the arrival of the king to any official gathering was announced with loud and lofty praises. But in the House of Rash-Yaph, and by extension in Jerudia, as much as possible, it was avoided. King Jeraash was 6 feet tall and so his shadow had informed Thaymas of his arrival at the same time that his aura had disturbed Thaymas. King Jeraash’s aura was the most commanding, most glorious, and had the biggest span of influence of any aura he had ever come across. The weight of his aura made him almost crack beneath it as the King drew near. He grinded his teeth ever so faintly, struggling to maintain his composure under its pressure.
As King Jeraash walked in the door and the bright golden sun rays splashed on the back of his head, Thaymas caught a glimpse of King Jeraash’s eyes that were a little darker than his brother’s. They were penetrating, wise, and roared of royalty and nobility. In a moment of absolute awe, Thaymas beheld the most handsome face he would witness in his lifetime. There was no doubt in his mind that the King’s loveliness and beauty far exceeded any other man.
King Jeraash walked with his face held high and perfectly still. His gait was fast-paced like the Prince’s and one could see that he always walked with a one-track mind. His countenance and gait themselves were becoming of a righteous ruler who transcended the very concept of justice that other rulers held to. His splendid cheekbones, perfect jawline, noble and beautiful countenance, and his majestic, wavy mane flowing below his shoulders formed the visage of handsomeness and royalty incarnate. His perfectly stacked teeth were like a wall of pearls set in place with perfect geometry. His thick, long, and curly eyelashes coupled with his prominent, thick, S-shaped eyebrows with razor-sharp edges seemed unfairly beautiful. His flawless and spotless skin, lighter than his younger brother’s, like light sand with a golden undertone that enticed women would also put any man in awe of its beauty. His glorious, lush, dark mane almost reaching the bottom end of his shoulder blades were lavishly lush and almost velvety, flowing like a graceful, wavy river. For the shortest moment, mesmerised by the King’s beauty, Thaymas was lost in admiration.
Soon enough, his unnaturally fast mind was back to reading the King. King Jeraash’s physique was said to be the ultimate human specimen and the embodiment of perfection: something sculpted to perfection personally by ‘Sathyam’ himself - Jerudia’s one true God. Thaymas’ exceptional eyes could somehow see despite the King’s attire that what he had heard was true indeed. The King wore a rich, dark scarlet red and white garment decorated with gold and golden-silk embroidery; one that would have been enough by itself to declare his majesty. On top of this garment, he also wore a dark scarlet red mantle made with an equally impressive fabric with the white silk insides. The mantle was also decorated with gold and golden-silk, and it was far humbler in design than anything a ruler in those days would have worn; and yet, far more majestic.
Thaymas sensed a physical strength almost identical to the Prince, and yet somehow more dominating and ox-like. He also sensed in the King’s aura, the fortitude and strength of walls that could protect the entire planet if called upon. He smelled just the smallest hint of a secret in his aura; but whether this secret was so well hidden by the King, or whether it was almost imperceptible because his secret had a natural camouflage in its existence, he couldn’t tell. One thing he was certain of was that the King was much better at hiding his secret than the Prince.
His identical twin swords that were similar to the modern-day Ninjatos were strapped to his back as always. They were similar in width to Prince Jared’s sword, but they were shorter in length and had barely discernible curves. Their red hilts and sheaths were decorated with golden designs and diamonds. One look at them, even with ordinary eyes would have been enough to recognise them to be a king’s weapon.
King Jeraash walked to his throne in the meeting hall and sat down with only an acknowledging nod to his uncle. From then, until the arrival of the rest of the party, Thaymas stood entirely mesmerised by the overwhelming power of the three people in the room. Until this day, he had never thought that such overwhelming and crushing power could exist; and it was absolutely astounding to him that there were two other men who were even stronger than his father. Soon enough the entire party had arrived except the third General. The Council of Elders consisted of four women and eight men; and although there w
as no such minimum age requirement, all current members of the Council of Elders were above the age of 105.
The meeting started exactly the moment that the nine bells meant for the dawn of the tenth hour of the day had finished tolling. King Jeraash commenced the meeting, “It appears the scariest General of the lot will not be joining us today.” A few faint chuckles flew over the room as he continued, “Let us begin.”
It was the first time that Thaymas had ever heard the King’s voice. His deep and richly handsome voice had the ability to command everyone’s attention at first contact - stoic, strong, and one so pure as a virgin waterfall’s call and as calm as a river asleep. Thaymas was astounded at hearing that there could be a General more intimidating than his father and the Prince; and even more so at seeing that no one in the meeting seemed to disagree with the statement. Thaymas could not see anyone’s face register any kind of response other than a few faint smiles. It was as if a mundane fact was stated.
