Red's CD Project Story 2: Part 18 – Song of time

Note: All I can say is that I keep peeling back the onion here and finding new layers. What I like is that the characters are starting to take this story over. It makes it easier to write that way.


Disc 1
Track 18 – Sad Statue – System of a Down

“You and me will all go down in history”

When Ewam was a very young boy, his father had come to his room late one night to kiss him goodnight. Rudan Perde stopped inside the door, slumping between the light of the hallway and shadows of Ewam’s dark room. His father was tired, worn thin by ruling a kingdom that stretched so vast that it demanded more than any one man could handle. Yet every night he visited his sons, kissing their foreheads and setting wards against any possible childhood spooks. In many ways, the duties of fatherhood came much more naturally to him than those of a king.

“What is it like to be king?” Ewam had asked throwing back his covers. He had been a boy that did anything to avoid being forced to bed. That had been another difference between him and Eden. When Eden was told to sleep, he went to bed, closed his eyes and drifted off. Ewam, on the other hand, skirted to the kitchens for a snack, and once caught, his mother tugged him back to his room by his ear. When his father came, he asked questions and demanded stories.

That night Rudan took a candle, lighting it from a torch in the hallway, and sat upon the edge of the bed. His father had wide shoulders and thick arms to go with jarring features, but Ewam always thought the man had the warmest eyes. No matter how much trouble he caused, he felt safe when his father’s eyes were upon him.

“Son,” he paused, a sparkle touched his eyes. “It’s like being told to go to bed a thousand times a day.”

Ewam stuck his tongue out knowing his father was teasing, but he didn’t say anymore. Once he got over being goofed with, he realized that his father was also being serious.

“That’s awful,” Ewam said. “I’d never want that.”

“Oh, I know that son,” Rudan Perde tickled his son’s stomach. “You can’t handle it once a day.”

After several minutes of jovial wrestling that climaxed in a hug, Rudan Perde brought his son to his knee and met his eyes.

“I want you to listen to me well now,” he brushed the hair from Ewam’s eyes. “Being king is the hardest thing you’ll ever do. There’ll be many days where you won’t feel like going on. It’ll be like your chained to a great stone that’ll you’ll be asked to drag back and forth all day long. But, my son, it’s all worth it.”

“Why,” Ewam asked, for the seeds of his insecurity compared to Eden were already laid?

“Because every so often, you sit upon that great throne in that old hall and hear the song.”

“What song?”

“The song of time, my son. It’ll ring in your ear. You’ll hear the voices of the great heroes and pick them out, one by one. You’ll hear my voice just as I hear my father’s. That big throne will be tuned to that because your actions and decrees right then are going to shape the world around you. Then you’ll know.”

“What?”

“That you’re king and one day you’re voice will join them.”

His father’s eyes were full of happiness as he began to hum and Ewam wished to stay in that moment forever. Before long though, a servant was whisking him away to address one problem or another. Ewam spent the rest of the night trying to hear that song.

“I’ve been waiting ever since,” Ewam thought he whispered, but Eden glared over at him. The man named Banik was still kneeling on the floor. Ewam heard a song now, but it didn’t sound joyous or upbeat. It certainly was not a tune he wanted to sing along with.

It occurred to him that Eden was waiting for him to say something, which broke their unspoken agreement of how to handle most audiences. It was Eden that asked the right questions or gave the correct orders. It was just that Banik’s offer of the lands of Nocnil was not something either had ever considered.

“There’s more to this,” Ewam could feel something tingling at the edge of his senses. How could one man bring down a kingdom? Even if it were some demon, it did not seem impossible, it was impossible. Ewam knew that there people that roamed even in Satar that sulked in the forests and hid in the hills. They wore black cloaks and covered their faces. They had never opposed the rule of the Perde line and, for the most part, the line had done little to oppose them. “What sort of a force does he have?”

Banik hesitated. The trouble with two kings being in the room was that it made it hard for most people to know which king to address, but this man had made his choice. He met Ewam’s gaze.

“There are the Dinar,” the man stood for the first time leaving the ancient sword on the floor. It looked like a corpse left like that. A nerve stirred in Ewam’s heart to reach out for it

“How many?”

“There were less than a thousand when they took Noce.” Banik started to pace, finally taking note of his surroundings.

“One man and a thousand, you say,” Ewam stood from his throne. This was becoming a farce. “I don’t know what fools you take us for. You expect us to believe so few took the oldest kingdom in the world. Either you are a liar or Nocnil grew soft.”

“I am no liar,” anger swelled in the man’s voice.

“Then how? How could so few take a village, much less a city, much less a kingdom?”

Ewam was down the stairs in the man’s face before Eden could even move. He ignored the sword and the smell. Ewam wanted answers.

“We could not fight them.”

“Could not or would not?”

“Could not. They were shielded in a way no man would fire an arrow or raise a sword. They paraded down our streets, decimated our royal guard, one man at a time and nary a sword was raised.”

“I don’t understand this,” Ewam turned back to meet Eden’s gaze. “Brother, it does not add up.” The last he said in their twin language.

“I know,” Eden answered under the same guise.

“It was the women, our women,” Banik’s voice took on a whole new level of shame. “They walked beside the Dinar and clung to the demon. It was some sort of spell. The women were drawn to him. They still are. I’ve passed hundreds on the road here.”

The blood left Eden’s face, leaving him pale and shaken. He slumped back down unto the throne rubbing at his forehead. Ewam felt his own knees weaken.

“What of them once the city was taken?” Eden croaked out the words. Ewam closed his eyes hoping that his ears would shut it the same matter.

“It’s a fate you don’t want to know,” Banik said.

“What of them!” Eden’s voice was a roar. Ewam took a step away from his brother and felt his heel touched the sword on the ground. Something stirred for only a moment within him. He was sure that Banik took more than two steps away.

“He mates with them, all of them,” Banik said. “I caught a glimpse when retrieving that.” Banik pointed to the sword. “His spawn are grotesque, blood drinking mongrels. I ran two through with the sword and was chased for some time by others. I hid in the Sorna a week before returning to the road here.

“Lords, I believe he can mate hundreds if not thousands a day. His force now may already be too much for the world of men.”

Ewam’s gaze never left Eden’s face. There were tears welling up in the man’s eyes. This explained everything from the disappearance of their sister to the nightmares that both Evandra and Kendra were suffering. A great evil was loose on the world. Eden was frozen in his throne.

“Leave us Banik,” Ewam ordered. “Our servants will show you a place to bathe and bring you new clothes. We will send riders out. Salama is not the only one that can gather an army.”

Ewam bent down and picked up the sword. He ran his hand along the curve of the blade. There was a great chorus sounding in Ewam’s head. He picked out one very familiar, soothing voice. Eden’s eyes were wide watching him.