"If Roman is still alive, then that changes everything and...." One elder started saying,
"...that also explains that issue!" Another completed the statement as if they were thinking of the same thing. The two had not spoken out loud, but the room’s high ceilings reverted to their voices long after they had stopped talking.
The room hushed up as their minds were drawn to that issue at that time.
Prince Roman, first of his name as he was usually addressed, was a bright young man who had just up and disappeared off the face of their land. He was an amiable young Fae who had a fun part in his life. It was so much that most of these same council members at that did not like that about him.
They believed a royal should always remain proper and adhere to etiquette; however, as much as Roman epitomised the definition of an efficient Fae, he was also a rascal through and through... a hot-headed one at that. Nevertheless, he was a lovable rogue. He struck the perfect balance between duty and fun, to the extent that he attracted a great many enemies.
Roman was a designated Prince, who was next in line to the Fae throne. He was the true heir, and true heirs did not just disappear off the face of the realm. This was a bizarre phenomenon that had remained unsolved for all time. No one knew what had happened to that true and mighty Fae... or the right term would be, whoever knew what had happened to Roman was not speaking about it!
Roman had only reached a prime year of thirty years before disappearing. In Fae age, he was still barely an adult, which was what the people wanted closure about.
"... but we cannot sense him anywhere.... If Prince Roman is alive, we should be able to sense him, right? However, even Prince Syla is not able to sense him. None of the royal cousins are able to sense him. That should tell us that he is really dead!"
"Are you all forgetting that the bookkeeper, Brain, did mention that he had some sort of proof that may show that Roman is still alive?"
A few whispers went around as none of them had truly believed what that man had said that day in front of the Princes. So, they continued the conversation as if they had not heard the last comment.
"But if he is dead, then who or what did our tracker meet back on the human land?"
"What is going on here?" A strong voice boomed.
Everyone in the room stood up and bowed at the waist in respect. They knew what would happen if they did not acknowledge the current and most powerful Fae in the whole land, Prince Syla.
Syla’s son, Simon, pushed him in his makeshift chair into the centre of the room. Syla still had use for his legs, but it was just that he could not support himself on his own weight for long periods of time. However, if anyone thought that this was grounds enough to launch an attack on Syla, then they had invariably signed their own death warrant.
There was raw, unfettered power that ran through Syla.
Nonetheless, this did not change the shocking incident that had happened years ago, about five years after Prince Roman’s disappearance.
That day ended up being the day that had gone down in the Fae land history for all the reasons that they never would have thought of.
That day in question brought mixed reactions to all the elders and Faes. Most of them did not really like Syla that much. However, as a royal, Syla commanded a lot of respect, and he was known for his immense strength as a warrior. It was just that despite Syla’s achievements, he had lived in his brother Roman’s shadow all of his life.
There were no parents to hand over the crown from as both their parents had passed in an unfortunate accident. In the then coronation room, that day, a lot of whispers went around.
"I hope we are doing the right thing now...."
"What else can we do? The throne has been unoccupied for years now since Prince Roman just up and left, never to be seen again..."
"But do we have to coronate Prince Syla?" one whispered, looking left and right to ensure they were truly alone and had no external ears.
"What else do you propose? Prince Syla is next in line to the throne and must be coronated. We leave ourselves vulnerable if we do not enthrone a king!"
"What you say is true, but...."
"No buts! We just have no option!"
"I understand what you say, but there is a reason. Our ancestors stipulated that the apparent heir must be buried before another is enthroned. What are we going to do about this when we have no ’body’ remains from Roman to ensure that he is properly buried according to custom before we put his brother on?"
They all knew this, and that was part of the reason they had been stalling the new enthronement, but five years was enough for them.
"It cannot be helped. We have already agreed to the enthronement of Prince Syla by a quorum vote."
One elder who had been silent from the onset said, "It was a quorum, but you can see that our citizens are not on board with this. You can go ahead in your wisdom and do this but do not say that we did not warn you on this.
We will all be bystanders in what you do. There is a saying that: ’Advice does not make a man change his ways except experience!’ I hope that whatever experience you get from this is educative enough for you."
The oldest Elders amongst them who were also the ones who had voted in favour of the coronation, smirked as if thinking,
’A young and newly accepted elder thinks that he can advise us who have served on this council even before his birth!’
The young elders bowed and stepped aside, indicating their stance.
The older ones swept past them and into the main hall, which was used for important occasions like the coronation. The place had already been grandly decorated in anticipation of this. Every corner of the room was glistening with gold and other precious minerals.
It was beautiful and held in awe by all who were privileged enough to witness this.
For the rest who could not be there, a giant water-viewing portal had been set up so they could view it from wherever they were. It shone in the skies and showed in real-time what was happening in the coronation room.
Because of the grand nature of the occasion, no expense was spared on the set-up.
Prince Syla walked up a long carpet that had been set up for him. He took slow, meticulous steps towards what he knew was his birthright.
He held a staff, showing his power. Syla also had on their signature tight breeches; a fur stole was around his shoulders which signified his manliness. It was custom that this stole was made up from the fur of an animal killed by the wearer.
Syla wore that of a rare fox and from the looks of it, it was one of the deadliest foxes that was very difficult to kill. This brought gasps from all around as their eyes shone in acknowledgement.
’Our new king lives up to his name!’
To the side, his beautiful main wife, concubines, and sons and daughters watched on with pride.
"Is Prince Syla not going to take the test?" Someone whispered.
"I don’t think so..., well, it doesn’t seem like he wants to, though, as he walked right up to the throne."
The test referred to a series of tasks that a true king would go true in order to be accepted by all, but Syla, as the only ’viable’ heir at the time, chose to skip them. Even though this brought a lot of dissatisfaction, the elders had nothing to say about it! Prince Syla had almost made himself a tyrant even before he had been fully enthroned!
"... but, that should not be right!"
"Shhhhh..... stop saying that things are not right! What can you do about it? Do you want to be executed?"
Near the top of the stairs that housed the throne, stood an elder in all smiles and welcomed his next king.
Two soldiers on either side marched up and placed a padded kneeling board in front of Prince Syla. As the two blended back into the crowd, another elder helped Syla kneel down in front of the throne.
The place hushed up as the ceremony started.
The elder who was kneeling cleared his throat and switched to their native dialect that was hardly heard,
"We’re gathered here to offer our support, strength, and mind as our new king braces the throne successfully...."
Syla bowed as the elder continued ranting for the better part of an hour while the king knelt! Prince Syla knew that bursting out in anger would do him no good, especially with all of his subjects watching, but he gritted his teeth and vowed to make sure that the elder was put in his place.
’Finally! Just a few more rituals and then the throne is mine!’ Prince Syla thought with a cold glint in his eyes.
Little did he know that he would never get to sit on the Fae throne that was right in front of him. The throne that he had envied for all his life just because of one incident!
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