Ages Unending_Dusk Into Dawn

by William Fewox

  “My king,” she said formally.

  Matthias stopped in his tracks. “Why do you call me king?”

  Gwen frowned in confusion. “Everyone’s talking about it. The Son of the Prophet should be king.”

  The warrior shook his head. “But Floriana is queen.”

  Gwen’s face darkened. “Why should she be? Her crown was passed down by the usurper. She has no claim.”

  Matthias stared at her, then turned. “I have to go find her. Now.”

  The warrior’s companions were gathered just inside the city’s main church, all thoroughly exhausted from the battle. As Matthias pressed into the cool and calm interior, he stopped. He had never been inside the church before, with its high stone walls and graceful arches. At the foot of the altar was an effigy of a familiar, Jaoren face, and Matthias realized he was standing at the foot of his mother’s grave.

  “Brother,” Alfred stood, clapping him on the back. “We were just talking about you. Everyone wants a piece of you now.”

  “The Ardri will be more than thrilled to have Fosporia as Phas Fratan, now. Any nation that can stand up to its own mad king and the Hegemon of Qingren on the same day is a nation Theragos wants on its side,” Derogynes declared.

  “It was, indeed, an honor to fight alongside you,” Ambrosus declared. “I shall pass along my own report to my general, and I’m certain that he will be impressed, to further weigh Theragos’ opinion in your favor.”

  Derogynes chuckled, patting his son’s shoulder. “We might just make a politician out of you yet.”

  “Afraid I still haven’t the stomach for it, Father.”

  Matthias grinned softly, but said nothing as he moved to his mother’s grave. The effigy was a good likeness, capturing her soft features. His friends watched him, unsure of what to do. Alfred was the first to draw near.

  “You know, Matthias, I think my reign has come to an end,” the lean man said.

  The warrior furrowed his brow, tearing his eyes away from his mother’s grave. “What?”

  Alfred shrugged. “Being High King doesn’t have the appeal it once had. I think I’ll step down. I actually miss studying and practicing a religion.” He glanced meaningfully to the rising sun made of beaten gold hanging at the back of the church. “It would be nice to venerate a god in a fine building like this instead of a cave.”

  “So that’s how Alfred Gunnarson’s story ends? Becoming a priest?” Matthias asked with a small grin.

  “Oh, priest? No,” the young man scoffed, waving the idea off. “I’ve heard talk of this thing called celibacy that priests are supposed to keep, and I just don’t think that’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make. But, who knows? Maybe there’s another king in this room who requires my services.” He patted Matthias on the back. “Take all the time you need in here, brother. I’m going to go get drunk and see what Fosporian women make of a High King while I still hold the crown. There are certain privileges to the position, you know.”

  Matthias grinned softly, patting his shoulder as Alfred limped away. Song Wei approached him next. “Your mother was a beautiful woman,” she said, nodding to the effigy. “You wonder what she would think of you.”

  “Stefan told me she would have loved me,” Matthias muttered.

  “My sisters and I cannot speak to the dead, but I think, in truth, Suyi would have been jealous.” The priestess smiled. “From what I know of her, she was loving, but she had a rebellious streak to her. I think she always wanted to, what is the phrase, knock the Hegemon down a peg?”

  The warrior nodded. “Will you honor Bai Feng, like you did the victims of Cyril’s attack?”

  Song Wei nodded. “Of course. Though, I wonder if it would be appropriate for a priestess of Shinai to perform the service. The good ambassador was curious of your faith, even admiring. He may have fallen into it.”

  Matthias grinned. “I won’t leave things to chance. If Mother Mei and Father Xian are expecting him, I wouldn’t want to confuse things.”

  For the first time, Song Wei laughed. “My own curiosity has been sated, you should know. You are a good man, Matthias. Fosporia will prosper if her people follow your example.”

  “You speak as if I’m already king.” Matthias shook his head. “I don’t even know if it’s something I deserve.”

  “There’s a part of you that wants it.” Song Wei smiled mysteriously. “But, perhaps this time, I shall leave you to figure it out for yourself.”

  Soon, the only ones left in the church were Magnus, Floriana, and Matthias. The three drifted together, realizing Fosporia’s future mostly fell to them.

  “Someone has to be on the throne,” Magnus sighed. “We must put things back in order for people to just go back to their ordinary lives. What Hierophants remain are turning to me for answers.”

  “Are you offering up your own name, Magnus?” Floriana asked warily.

  The mage scoffed. “Hardly. I don’t exactly cut a noble figure.” He gestured to his round face. “This is not a face that belongs on the back of coins. No, I think it is time to put a definitive split between the Church and the Crown. The Hierophants and priests should not also be the nation’s political leaders, that led to no good. We will do what Stefan wanted us to do; provide for the needy and guard the souls and virtues of all. You two can sort out the politics.”

  “Thanks,” Matthias said dryly.

  Floriana gingerly lifted the crown from her head, looking to Matthias. “Father raised me from birth to wear this. Now that I have it, the people hate me for it.”

  “You were not at fault for anything Cyril did,” Matthias shot back, shoving the gold circlet back to her. “I know you. You want this, and you were trained for this. I won’t take it from you; I tried taking another’s crown once before.”

  “They only know what they saw, and they saw me abandon you and the Prophet. It will take years for them to accept the truth,” Floriana countered, putting the crown down between them. “They want the Son of the Prophet. They want the man who defied the Hegemon.”

  “And they need the woman that would do anything for her people, that knows their ways and knows how to govern them.” Matthias reached out to push the crown back towards Floriana, just as she moved to do the opposite. The great warrior chuckled in spite of himself. “We’ll rule together, then.”

  “What?”

  “We share it. We’ll be king and queen, together,” Matthias said, confused as to why his f riends were suddenly looking at him so strangely. It seemed like the best compromise to him.

  “You don’t know how kings and queens work, do you, Matthias?” Floriana asked with a teasing smile.

  “Should we tell him, or let him figure it out on his own?” Magnus asked wryly.

  “What? What’s the matter with it?” Matthias asked, flustered as Floriana leaned in for a kiss. “I thought it was a good idea.”

  Floriana batted her eyes at Matthias, squeezing his hand. “It’s one that’s growing on me, certainly. I may even agree to it.”

  It took a moment longer for Matthias to put the pieces together, but when he realized what he had asked of Floriana, he didn’t withdraw the offer. And after a moment more of teasing, Floriana accepted. Word spread quickly through Stefanurbem, and soon, the people gathered to welcome their new king and queen.

  In the days to come, Magnus blessed the union in the Creator’s sight, and Fosporia looked to the future. As Cyril had declared, the Age of Ash had seen its final dusk, and as Stefan foretold, now humanity and all the world stood at the dawn of a new era: the Age of Prophets.

 

 

 
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