3 Arc 1: Part 3

Historica: Democracy is a fool's game to the big three. The strongest warriors are often the chosen kings on the continent Valoria, whereas Brontos elects intellects, and Anfana elects only queens by relation to their kingdom's founding princesses.

"He's already a better knight than I was at that age," Ranun said. He was with his wife, Calace, looking out a glass window from the third floor of their four story mansion. Aeryn was in the backyard that stretched five acres of green grass. Another acre a lake that reflected the blue sky above. "Twelve years ago, you held Stonehold with him still in your stomach. Four years after that, we moved in here."

"Aeryn hasn't grown up with the bloody wars like we did," she said. "But he's training like he is preparing for one."

Her son was swinging his steel sword in the air. The sword had been dullen on both sides as a precaution. His calves had lines of bruises from when he was younger and couldn't control the sword. Aeryn's control of his sword has improved dramatically in only two weeks of wielding the blade. A natural fighter.

"Soon, I'll enlist a knight, or one of my agents to train him," said the king. Ranun's hand reached over to meet hers on the sill. "Or if you'd like, you could teach him. After all, his first battles were your last."

"I was but a leader, and not a knight. I never held a sword outside of raising one in the air to inspire."

"Lady Stone is what they called you," he smiled. "But that name does not match your beauty."

"Is that so?" she blushed.

Ranun's face shifted to sadness. "I need to tell you something, Calace." His hand squeezed hers. "I visited the hospital for my yearly checkup yesterday. I didn't have the heart to tell you after I got back, but it's-"

"But what?" she asked. Her expression of nostalgia shifted to worry.

He lifted his shirt to reveal a stab wound. A red naturally sealed line. Surrounding it, a purple black that spread in a three inch radius. "This wound from Bouma, ten years ago," he said. "It was the first war wound I've ever had. I thought it would kill me then, but apparently it would kill me now."

She tried to stay strong. "How would from that long ago kill you now?"

"The blade was dipped in a curse. It activated a few months ago, but thought not much of it. Apparently, my fate was sealed the moment the blade pierced my skin."

"No," her strength broke. She shed a tear. "How… how long?"

"The doctor fears I could die as soon as next week, or as late as twenty years, depending on certain factors."

Calace without moving her squeezed hand, twisted her body to hug Ranun. Tears flew down her face. "No!" she cried again. "You can't die on us."

"As long as I avoid strenuous combat, the doctor said I could live all the way until my fifties." Ranun said. He let go of her hand and wrapped his arms around Calace to comfort her. "I plan on cherishing every moment with you guys, I promise I'll live to see Aeryn train his own son to wield a sword." Aeryn was still swinging wildly in the air, playing knight. His laughter and smile oblivious to the pain above.

"You are the king," Calace said. "You can't avoid combat for twenty years."

"The country loves me, even my enemies' countries love me," he insisted. "I'll be king as long as the people still believe in me. Besides, it's no secret to the higher ups that I'm not the strongest warrior in Soucrest. I'll tell Symond of my situation, and he will assist me in every way he can."

Calace's heart stung. Her love for the king only matched the love for Aeryn. Ranun's love stretched further. The entire kingdom of Soucrest was his family. From the noblemen, to the poor. Every Soucrestian life had value in his heart. That's why he started the civil war. To protect the ones he loved from the tyrant king that only had his own selfish interests at heart. To Ranun, he would never love another woman like Calace, another son like Aeryn, or another kingdom like Soucrest. His patriotism would be the death of him. Calace knew the answer. But asked anyway.

"Why don't you give up your crown?" she asked. "Retire to live the rest of your life with us."

"My kingship is what's keeping this country out of war." he said. His voice was in pain.

He was a king, but he still felt like a patriotic knight who fought for what was right. He remembered the wars before his own. The forced recruitment of him and his brother. The battles that only protected the morals he didn't believe in. He then remembered his knight father, who when he wasn't already busy enough fighting for King Nolan, had better things to do than to talk to his own sons. He hated his father, the king, and now himself. He was afraid of leaving behind his country that depended on him, whether in death or his own personal desire to retire.

Nothing frightened him more than what would happen to his own family after he died. Would Aeryn die in a war, or become a future king. Would Calace die alone, or remarry to another man. His jealous still reigned strong in Ranun. The thought of another man touching Calace boiled the blood in his veins. But, on the other side of his heart, he only wanted her to be happy, and even after his death, if he could stop her from remarrying, he would not.

"I can't promise I'll retire as king," said Ranun. His head pulled from atop hers and moved down to where his nose touched the bridge of hers. "But I promise I'll make this world a better place before I go."

A moment of silence struck. Somehow, the sadness turned into a slight happiness. Calace thought it was time.

"Let's try again," she suggested. "Let's have another baby."

"Aeryn was a miracle. He was one of eight who made it to this world," he said. "Are you sure you want to go through this again? It almost destroyed us."

"I want a daughter before you go," she said. "A boy and a girl, like we always dreamed."

"If this is what you want," his mouth smiled as his eyes showed worry. "I'll help."

"It's what I desire," she said. Now smiling bright. "And you sort of have to help."

Aeryn swung his sword hard and accidentally let go of his grip. The sword flung over and smashed a large bust on the stone patio behind him. He ran to retreat his sword. Worried if anyone caught him, he looked around. Then he looked up and saw his parents in the window engaged in a passionate kiss.