Tales of Hate

Lady Maget, or Mag, barely ease her bed of her straight-shaped body—bathing, dressing, and feeding, done in the bed by her four servants: it became a culture since the past two years she fell ill. Although, she comes out in rare occasions to attend to matters that strictly involved her.

In the evening, the same day King Edd held the council meeting: she sat on her bed, leaning against the headboard, and coughing badly as her husband and son knocked and came in. She did not ask them straight what had happened at the council because it was of irrelevance: she already knew by the men's nonconforming facial expressions, the disappointment her daughter passed through, despite of her warning to Edd. However, she had dreamt again, which was the men's main intent for coming by; they been told about the Queen's sudden scream and incessant dry cough afterward.

"Another nightmare," Edd enquired and concerned, as he came to sit beside Mag, finding her left hand to hold, "how do you feel?" He found Mag's hand, massaging it tenderly at the wrist region.

She had given a blank stare on Edd, when he inadvertently mentioned nightmare; thus didn't respond to him but channeled herself to Drek whom was coldly irritated, and standing away in folded arms, sort of withdrawn; which she fell depressed with the view that her ailment caused her son to shy away from her: unlike her Drek. She turned to her husband and saw how ruined he was—seeming dumb and in dire need of an apology from her. 'Perhaps, because she had ignored him.' she judged inwardly, turning back to her son, "I'm sorry about my unpleasant smell, my dear."

"It is not about the smell, mother," Drek stuttered but softly, "what Alen faced in there, was undeserving, mother!" His words were shaky and loud, as he frowned at his father, subtly.

"It deserves!" Edd raged, twisting back his head to face Drek, still seated, "as your King, and not as your father, one more word from you. You'll rule the nations, eyeless."

"I'm sorry, father," Drek apologized as he began to sob lowly. Edd did not mind; instead, he was trying to subdue his anger.

"You don't have to be harsh," Mag muttered to Edd, raising her right arm to Drek, "darling, come sit."

Drek did not hesitate because he really wanted his mother, but could not say it right in Edd's presence. All the same, he cuddled Mag dearly as he avoided his father's distasteful look on him. "The smell is not reducing?"

Mag felt bad about the discomfort, but worse about the dying light of hope, concerning the cure. Notwithstanding, she cheered up in order not to kill her son's hope, "I smell, yes. I do not decay, that is another good thing about the ailment. I will be fine. The High Priest is on his way here," she combed with her fingers, Drek's curly blonde hair as she sent across a smile of despair to Edd.

Edd returned a depressed smile, too, while being antagonized by his failed capability to save his wife. He had betrayed his daughter, and soon to betray his wife in the hands of death. Now, his only hope, Drek, could not stand for himself, rather chose to remain a child forever, in the bosom of his mother.

"Mother, I'm 24, you know." Drek hinted, still resting on his mother, "I want to be strong," as if he read his father's thought, "but not for the throne. I jus—"

Edd aggressed upon him immediately. The hit came as a blink that Mag did not succeed shielding it. Instead, she resorts to console her weeping son with the feeling of intense disgust towards Edd whom felt sorry of his action right away. "I'm sorry," he apologized, trying to touch his wife and son.

"Don't you," Mag restricted calmly. "Where is my daughter?"

"No news yet," Edd articulated poorly, still in desire to touch them. "I promise. She'll be back with them."

"It's okay, son," she patted Drek whom had sniffled, literally ignoring her husband.

Edd endured that by warding it off as he rummaged his mind on what to say in order to buy his wife's attention. "About your night..." he paused, realizing his mistake, "your vision."

"Yes, about that," she dried her son's face, "everything came clear this time. Drek is Hin. You are Agon. I am Hin's mother. Then, another woman appeared in a shadow form, standing there, and without doing anything to save Hin. She just stood there, and watched us cry." Her words came out frightened. Her eyes bulged out in overwhelming fear as she wrapped tight her son.

"It could be Alen," Edd added, and afraid, too.

"I fear. That is why I warned you not to ever hurt her feeling. Now, she is nowhere near. What if she has joined the outcasts,'' she groaned and coughed. "You don't listen!"

"You know the tradition!" Edd boasted.

"Of course, I do know the tradition you've broken many times!" she bawled.

"This is different!"

"Tradition is tradition!" she blubbered, drying her face and pulling herself together. "You've ruined your daughter's life. You have ruined us. I hope the woman doesn't turn out to be her."

Edd been dumbfounded: he lowered his face in shame while Drek raised himself to speak: "Alen is harmless. I know her."

"Yes, my baby. She is," Mag supported to please him. "Don't ever mistrust her, okay? No matter what, she is your sister."

Drek affirmed, resting back her head.

"What do we do?" Edd inquired, dryly.

"To find Alen," Drek opined.

"You heard your son," Mag cleared, uncertainly. "Where is the High Priest?"

"I don't —"

"Don't bother," the High Priest, Milo, interfered suddenly, making himself visible from the south wall of the room, "No. No. No questions." He shunned them as he had noticed how shocked they were about his unusual entrance. "I examined the last samples. I found out the problem to your rotten smell but clean body, Milady. It's food poisoning."

His result left the family completely befuddled. "How?" Mag managed to speak.

"Who is your chef?" Milo asked, staring earnestly at her while standing from where he had appeared.

"Ira," she pointed out, breaking into her confusion.

"Son, go on. Assemble all the chefs to the courtyard. Now," Edd impatiently commanded as Drek hastened. Few minutes later, the three set off to the courtyard where the chefs were already assembled, all anxious. Drek, along with his two guards came closer to station King Edd and Lady Maget by standing beside both, as the chefs turned towards them and greeted uniformly.

"Ira!" Milo called, and Ira hurriedly came out. "Who are you? Do you have an evil within, to poison your queen?"

"I swear. I do not," she stammered, wanting to cry but ceased when five guards came in, disrupting the court. One of them excused, going straight to Drek. He whispered to him, and handed over a piece of torn cloth to him. After a minute of low talk, the guard stepped back as Drek took the piece to Edd, which he ordered his son to comb the entire villages and outside boundaries for Alen. So said, Derek left the courtyard with the guards that came in, leaving his other two guards to be in check. Then the priest continued, getting all attention back.

"She had lied," first chef uttered.

"Not true," Ira blurted, as her eyelids could not hold up tears.

"Few hours ago, in the kitchen, we all were there when you acted insane; raising your voice to whatever that invisibly surrounded you," second chef added, with absolute certainty.

"Mos, you lie!" Ira spluttered, falling on her knees.

"I never believed it, too, Ira. I trust you. Tell me that those are just allegations?" Mag voiced after a long silence.

"Milady, they are. Because. I am guilty. Not her," third chef, Peet, defended as murmurs from the other chefs filtered the courtyard.

"Enough!" Edd instructed as he oddly looked at Milo, "Milo. Please. Walk five steps back," Milo humbly did as Edd walked up to Peet, patted him on the right shoulder and went back to his former stand, "cheap cleverness, and cheap coincidence," he held his queen by the hand, "Guards. Arrest Ira, Peet, and the High Priest. And lead the others out."