Hey guys, I've just joined the writing club of my university, (the club is called Artifexus), and took the liberty to introduce all the members to the glorious site of CYS. So expect a few new members in the coming days or so.
Well, tonight we had an event that was called 'write the night', where a bunch of people come together in a group and form like groups of two, three and four(depending on one's preference) they sit together and based on a prompt given at the start one of them starts writing, while the others chill out and waste time. Forty-five minutes later, another person from the group continues from where the first left off, all the while not knowing what the first person wrote. This goes on and on, from 10 pm to 4.30 am. Also, at 1.30, a compulsory twist is added which has to be included in your story. Of course, coffee is a must if you intend to survive!
This is the result of me and my other partner participating in this:
Prompt: For the taste of the elixir, is this the price you’ll have to pay?
(Twist:20 years have passed)
The human mind is a strange, weird wonder,
It works in ways more mysterious, than even nature,
But, like everything in this universe,
Flaws, it will show in this verse…
Some say it’s a primal instinct,
A never-ending chase that’s pure instinct,
For happiness, bliss, jubilance,
And sadness, death, pestilence…
Some say it’s a chase for dopamine,
Some say it’s just happy hormones,
Some simply name it as an elixir,
Of power, joy and hope.
But little do these minds know, that they,
Are doomed to an endless circle,
Of sadness, strife and despise,
With an utter lack of respite,
But they keep pursuing this elixir of dreams,
Until they are ash, of their own beings…
The familiar trots and neighs of horses galloping was heard echoing in your ears, as you were constantly hitting the reins back and forth. The clanking of the mail you adorn on your torso was muffled by the heavy cuirass tightly bound over it. Wind was passing through your visor, almost threatening to slice your eyes in two with the sheer force; however these were superficial concerns at the time that you couldn’t waste a moment dwelling on. As the horses neigh in complaint to your rough riding, you say a silent prayer of forgiveness to the almighty to forgive you for your brutal treatment; but it could not be helped…
The king, is missing.
“Hurry up! We can’t spare a moments breath to waste, we have to be at the capital before dawn!” You shout behind at your son, and the posse of twenty men-at-arms riding right behind him.
“I’m on it father, but I’m afraid my poor mare cant spare another breath on these ill beaten roads,” said your son.
“Heck! At the speed we’re going, we should’ve shoed our horses with golden hooves rather than iron!” added a haughty soldier behind.
“Mind your words around his liege, Stibor,” says another, “Yeah, you could be put in the pillory for a week for that.”
“Bah! Respect in front of the king’s royal hetman? I’m sure he could have me brutally butchered by the executioner and have me served to the feral dogs for supper!”
Upon hearing this, your son immediately comes to a screeching halt, causing his steed to neigh wildly in protest. He gets off his horse, and walks towards Stibor; his spurs hitting the ground. Without a word, he approaches him and pushes him off his horse to land hard on the pebbled ground beneath. He then draws his sword and-
“Son!” You shout, “what in the lord’s name do you think you’re doing?!”
“This man here dared to defile your position father! Did you forget? In absence of the king, you’re the word of law in these lands, if an example is set, then all these barbaric mongrels will learn to follow the law!”
Though its true that you’re in charge of the rule in absence of his liege lord, the king, this goes against your moral code of conduct.
“The law will have no value if it is against God’s will! The lord promotes compassion and mercy mong his children and we, as rulers should never forget the code of the bible! The enigma that-“
Your son abruptly cuts you off, and just sheaths his sword while approaching his horse, “You’re just too naïve for this world father,” is all he says.
At times, you wonder what the fate of this fiefdom will be when your son eventually takes up your place. But you’ve wasted enough time already in this distraction, and now isn’t the time to dwell on such thoughts
The rest of the ride passes silently until you reach the capital.
The huge imposing gates of the capital, with their intricate architecture never ceases to amaze you. The iron spikes lined on the door, threaten to impale any invading cavalry on the spot. However the gates now are open before you reach them, the guards at the watchtower likely noticed your approach. You and your posse make a beeline for the palace, without spending much time looking at the tradesfolk and peasants milling about their early morning chores.
The castle itself is a modest structure, with a respectable moat upon which a drawbridge is lowered for your arrival. You’re immediately ushered without a word, by the king’s royal advisor to his bedroom. The place where he was last seen before going missing.
“Keep in mind that word of this should not spread out the palace walls, or there’ll be anarchy hetman; I believe gossip has already began astrew with the arrival of your posse.”
“I bought as little men as I could, like you asked sir,” you say reluctantly.
“You clearly didn’t get the message, but lets not fret on these matters, the king was last seen in his bedroom, spending a little…break with a few…friends.”
“I can assume that these were…female friends?,”
So, you know where the king was last seen. You are disappointed as always upon his decisions, how he allows random ‘friends’ to come near him inspite of knowing the position he holds. But, the king being the king however does this same thing over and over again. You rush up to king’s bedroom in search of clue. As you reach there you find the door open and the bed is still untidy indicating the happening of intimate things between the king and his ‘friends’ and you know whosoever kidnapped your king was smart enough to clean the mess. You roam around in the room, when you cross the king’s dressing room and your eyes go to the broken thrown glass of red wine. “Ah this drug addict. Someday he will have to pay for his desires,” you say picking up that glass. You smell the glass
”Belladonna, oh dear lord,” you say shocked and confused.
“Those beauties sure did have enough brains to outsmart our king” you say when you hear footsteps approaching you.
“Who’s there?”, you ask.
‘‘Its me dad”, your son replies.
“Ah, come here fast, I think I know who kidnapped him”.
As your son come near you, you show him the glass. “Dad, we should find the girls” your son say. You go downstairs keeping that glass under your arms, hiding it from everyone and you rush to the guards. As per your order, every guard of the palace comes for the interrogation session.
“Nobody is ready to tell the truth,” you say out of disappointment.
“They will. Lets just interrogate only the ones on duty that night,” suggests your son.
You send all the guards out except for the ones on duty that night.
“Now, will you tell me where the beauties disappear after that night or should I beat the shit out of you all”, you say out of rage.
“We don’t know sir. They left as usual in the morning through the front doors” reply the guards.
After hours of interrogation, you still don’t get any clue and you let go all the guards.
“This can’t happen. There must be someone who saw the king leaving the palace and I know he wasn’t alone. He was unconscious. He was poisoned. But who would do that?” sadness takes over your whole body.
But, its only when you decide to go to Williams, the head of all guards and the most trusted person of the king, when you see someone approaching you. Its one of those many guards who came to you and enlightened you with the needed truth.
“We were bribed.”
Shaken and confused, you grab his collar,
”Who was it?! How could you all even agree?”
“I don’t know. Williams ordered us and each one of us was given a huge amount. There was a letter. Yes there was a later. It came to Williams”, says the scared guard.
You run to the entry gate in search of Williams. You see him there, right there, smiling and waving at you, you wonder how can someone be happy after doing such cruel act.
“Treasoner! How could you do this with your king?” you scream at him.
“Because that was the wise thing to do” replies Williams.
You are confused by this, and before you ask anything Williams speaks
“Nobody knows Silver Crown better than you do. Yes I got a letter from Silver Crown who blackmailed to kill all my guards if I don’t let their men in. I can’t let my guards lose their lives.” You knew Williams was unaware of the fact that those were not the men of silver crown but the Mercenaries.
“Its too late to search any clue right now. Its night already, and the guards are tired. We will do this tomorrow,” says Williams. You reach home, finding your son sitting anxious and worried. He handed you a letter.
“What’s this? A letter from the Holy Roman Emperor threatening to dethrone the king?”
Your son smirked and said,”No, though I believe that day isn’t that far off.”
“When did you learn to read and write anyway? Planning to join the monastery?”
“Oh father, you and your ‘creative’ jests, this is why I never get drunk with you,” he continues,” though, allow me to be your personal scribe for this occasion,”
Passing through mud and swamp, and vipers and nests;
you’ll find your final goal, below, the treetop that rests…
“Where did you get this from?,” you ask.
“Williams, that tenderfoot came down and just handed this to me without saying a word. He also happened to mention something about meeting someone hiding a silver crown under a bloody cloak or something…probably just drunken babbling.”
You never took Williams to be much of a poet, but if the silver crown really is behind this, this is a serious matter indeed.
The silver crown, some believe them to be nothing but a myth mothers tell their toddlers to scare them to sleep. Others, like Williams, are paranoid of them. They’re believed to be an underground organisation of cutthroats, brigands and assassins spread across the whole Christendom; every major assassination, crime, robbery is believed to be somehow linked with them. You were never one to believe such rumours, but having no other leads, this is your one and only option.
“Well, I can’t believe I’m saying this,” you say, “we’re going to have to go after the silver crown.”
“Who knows, father, there could always be the possibility,” your son says, “ though even if we were to assume these mystical cutthroats do exist, and we follow this dubious riddle…”
“I know, its obviously an ambush,” you say, “either that, or Williams is making up a fairy tale, if it’s the latter then we can just beat the truth out of him,” you continue ,”however, if it’s the former…”
“Then, we’ll be heading into the proverbial lion’s den.”
“No, we’ll be attempting to put our hand inside the lions mouth, sleeping in his den,” you say, ”now lets figure out where this den is.”
Well, mud and swamp, obviously refers to the swamplands to the south of the capital just a six hours ride away. A vipers nest, though…you aren’t aware of any vipers in the swamps down south, however they’re infamous for being filled to the brim with brigands and bandits. Maybe the nest refers to their main encampment?
“We’ll need a lot of men for sure if we mean to storm the major encampment,” your son says,
“You could leave a skeleton crew in my command here, and head out with most of the men.”
“Yeah, I guess we have no choice; just don’t murder anyone in cold blood this time,” you say.
“I didn’t ki- “but you cut him off.
“Let’s just move on.”
Below the treetop that rests? A fallen tree? God only knows how many of those there are in that humongous swampland. But maybe you might run across something that could seem indistinguishable enough near the camp?
“You’ll have to make haste, there’s no time to lose, the people need their king back Hetman!” says the advisor, after he had abruptly vanished and has just as abruptly reappeared.
“Yes, I know, I’ll head out,” you say.
So you gather most of the men of the castle and head out in the south in the direction of the swamps, passing through the rolling hills, and river banks populated with charcoal burners, eventually into the mucky green slime of the swamp waters. Your steed protests, but you move on regardless. The heat of the swamp makes it difficult to breath through your cuirass; maybe you shouldn’t have adorned plate armour after all.
However, as your horses slow down to a trot you are ambushed on both sides by a barrage of arrows that instantly hit your horse, causing you to fall face first into the deep swampy lands. You were taken by surprise, you were set up for this trap. William, set you up for this trap.
You’re mostly helpless, as your posse suffers the same fate, some even drown in the swamp waters, unable to get back up due to the sheer weight of their armour. Mucky water seeps through your visor and threatens to drown you in your helmet, but by a miracle you muster enough strength to stand back up.
You’ve lost a lot of men, but you no less bark out orders and formations and soon the few twenty men-at-arms and you, manage to keep a defensive position.
The archers, having spent their arrows, draw their shortswords and shields and approach you. They clearly outnumber you three-to-one. This is going to be one hell of a fight.
They charge forward, recklessly, but you were ready for this, and your men at your order form a two man column and like a spear, charge forward in disciplined steps. These ragtag band of brigands is no match for your well trained soldiers, and everyone in your way is hacked down instantly. You break free from them surrounding you, and head as fast as possible to the capital—sadly empty handed.
“We failed this time” you say, disappointed.
Your heart isn’t somewhere convinced by the fact that the silver crown is responsible behind but you know anything can happen so you move. You don’t give up and keep searching for clues. Your mind wanders. While you testify the facts you have collected in king’s palace about that night, your guards have finally been able to track down the girls.
“We found them along the countryside, drunk and tripping” guards report. “Seems like some people had grand celebration after kidnapping our king”, you say sarcastically.
You take under interrogation and that’s when you got to know that these girls were bribed by the mercenaries but the question still remains the same- why do they suddenly attack our king when they know for now they have no profit to make in our kingdom. While you are busy solving these questions in your mind, you come across a shocking evidence- a knife with blood on it. It’s a huge evidence. It is a huge one. The blood stain on the knife leaves you crestfallen, you know your king is in much more danger than you thought he would be. You check every inch of knife when your eyes go to the date written on it, on its surface. In our kingdom, the purchase date is mentioned in the knives but this time it was different. It was a code that was hard to decode.
“What a smart guy, I really appreciate his efforts,” you say. You knew you need to track down the seller to decode it but how will you among thousands of knife sellers and with almost same designs. But you give the knife to the soldiers anyway, and ask them to go to each and every shop and ask about it. While the soldiers are gone, your mind is stuck in some other quest. While all of this is happening, you see a letter suspiciously placed in one of the saddlebags of your horse.
“Sir,
We know it was you and your troop who came to our area to shoot us down. You are suspicious about the fact that we are responsible for your king’s disappearance but let me clear one thing, we have no intentions of disturbing your peace and have no hands in your king’s disappearance.”
This shocked you. You feel blood rush through your veins, anger and confusion surrounds your mind. But , you are getting some facts cleared now. You know now, if the mercenaries were not sent by the silver crown then there must be someone else. You rethink all the events. The girls coming to the palace, the king getting drunk, the girls helping the mercenaries enter through the back gate or the jump the walls, the mercenaries kidnapping the king, the girls leaving the palace in the morning. All the facts are confusing but you know there is someone, very trusted who was present between the two events- the girls letting the men in and the men leaving because its hard to take that fat man out of the palace by jumping walls. You take all the guards under interrogation again and this time you have the girls too. You realise your son has left your side.
“He must have gone home, was probably tired,” you say and continue asking them about the night.
None of them speak. They are not ready to answer. While the interrogation is going on, your soldiers enter with the seller who sold that knife to that mastermind. “Tell me about his appearance” you ask. “He was tall, dark, had blue eyes and a scar on his left cheek” replies the seller. “Scar on his left cheek”, you reply, shook and destroyed. You know who he is. You know now who is the one. You rush to your home only to see an empty house and by empty you meant the money, horses, heirlooms, everything has been stolen. You look around for him and you send the guards to track him down but nothing happened. He has disappeared.
“I never thought my own son would do that, I want to confront him, I want to punish him. I want to know. I want the answers. Now I know where did he go. He must have seen the knife seller. He is a mastermind” you say.
Few days pass and you still haven’t got any clue about the king or your son. Your heart doesn’t want to believe that its your son. All the facts are twisted. You are confused. You want to change the truth. You keep searching, looking around for your son, alas this search turns futile too. He seemed to have vanished from the face of the earth without leaving a single trace.
With the king still missing, and nobody to govern the fiefdom, you being the royal hetman were obligated to take his liege lord’s place. At first, you still try and search for your son and the king, but soon the affairs of the state become a much more pressing concern and overtime you leave everything related to that incident behind. Over the next months, the kingdom is brought to some resemblance of stability, and the discontent among the masses is momentarily quelled. Following the years, you manage to undo the destruction of the economy caused by the past king’s neglect, diplomatic relations are established with neighbours, border issues solved, unnecessary wars averted, and trade boomed. In the next few decades, following the kingdom’s steady rise of fame under your leadership, there was a huge influx of settlers who you happily appointed to plots of land in the wilderness, cleared out for agriculture. They provided a steady income to the state in the form of half-yearly taxes.
Twenty years later…
You’re in the throne room, in front of a council of representatives of the people, for the annual meeting. You began this custom since you were appointed the head of state, in order to get invaluable insight from the masses. Each group of individuals; farmers, teachers, lawyers, elect a single representative who attends the meeting and provides the needs of that particular group.
“We need more safety procedure for the workers,” says the representative of the builders, “twelve good men were lost due to a recent accident caused solely due to neglect.”
“There’s a dire need of more dairy cows for the farms,” says the farmer’s representative, “we can hardly keep up with the demand.”
The meeting goes on without any untoward problems, each issue is addressed and promises are made. By the end of the meeting, dawn is already upon you.
“Today was a productive day, my liege,” says the advisor.
“I’m not your liege,” you reply.
“Oh I know, but in my humblest opinion, I feel you really are more fit for one than your unfortunate predecessor.”
“Are you implying the king of this fiefdom is dead? That is treason.”
“I’m not implying anything, sir. I’m just merely stating the facts out for you. It’s been almost two decades since the disappearance of our king; anyone could reasonably assume him to be dead, or worse, murdered.”
“And why would you come to such a radical conclusion, if I may ask?”
“I think you, of all people, should know the answer to that. After all, the murderer is one of your own bloo-“
You instantly get up, and draw your sword, pointing its tip with one hand right at the advisors throat ,”say another word, and I’ll chop your fucking tongue off.”
Undeterred, the advisor continues, ”my lord, I understand your rage and anger at this sacrilege committed; but instead of wasting your effort and rage at me, your humble servant, I would advise you to use it to find the truth,” he says, with a smirk, ”if you ever manage to, that is.”
You sheathe, your sword with anger and say, “Get out of my sight!”
Then you’re left alone, to contemplate.
Was my son really the killer? Would he really commit such treason? What kind of a father am I if I couldn’t solve the strife of my own kin?
You sit back down, holding your head in your hands. This question has been driving you insane for the last twenty years now, and even though the kingdom proves to be a good distraction, it is nothing but momentary. But you know, without a doubt, that your son murdered the king.
Was this sweet elixir of power, really worth the price you’ll eventually pay in the fires of hell, son? What are you planning? Why did you do it? Why did you run away?
Questions, questions, questions…
Little did you know that those questions were going to be answered to you sooner rather than later…
You walk back to your bed chamber, and stare at yourself in the mirror. The person who greets you is a man with a greying beard and silvery hair. You wonder how your son grew up to look.
The next morning, like a regular morning, you go to the throne room, when your messenger comes in. You can sense some danger. You know this is a signal, ”Greetings my lord, I’m afraid I’m the torch-bearer of bad news to you today. Our sentries have observed a huge army numbering in the thousands heading towards the city walls. Their family house banners reveal that they’re most likely an alliance; a coalition of your ‘former’ allies.”
It takes you a moment to register the massive scale of this situation, how, why, the questions are unimportant now. You know that this is your sons doing. Those shady meetings, too good to be true trade deals, armistices signed, backstabbing, everything you’ve done in these past twenty years, your son was always one step ahead of you. While you were under the assumption that you could finally broker peace in these lands, you were wrong. Nobody wants peace, only power. War and power.
“How long?” you as in a ghostly voice.
“Not more than an hour, my liege,” says the messenger.
“God’s Blood! Quickly! Sound the alarm! Gather everyone into the fort and close the goddamn gate! Get the archers on the wall, and set up the catapults and trebuchets!”
You quickly bark out orders, as your advisor gets to work and soon as all the villagers are abruptly gathered in the centre of the castle courtyard, you observe their extremely cramped conditions, as you quickly go into the war room to discuss strategy with your commanders.
“They slightly outnumber us, but we have a huge strategic advantage.”
“I don’t think they’ll come without a trick up their sleeve though.”
“Fair point, we should be prepared for anything, this is after all a coalition of seven kingdoms.”
“How in the world could someone manage to even form this alliance?”
“That isn’t important, focus! Now look, the best strategy they could apply is forming a shield wall and rushing against the city walls as fast as possible to avoid the artillery. Then they could attempt to scale the wall with ladders and such.”
“They could easily breach the walls with their own catapult, we have to absolutely make sure we fire ours first, and destroy it. The archers and helpers should be able to deal with those that try to scale the walls.”
“If the wall is lost, then the palace walls could be protected by the trebuchet. Though the enemy could attempt to return fire, those civilians in the courtyard have to be ushered inside and the moat closed off.”
“Yes, and assign at least three to four hundred men-at-arms in their place, in case the gate gives in.”
“My lord, if things get out of hand there’s always the secret exit to ensure the safety.”
“Let’s hope that’s not required,” you say.
The huge army, stands just shyly out of bow range. You wonder if there is going to be an attempt at parley, as is customary according to etiquette, but no, the war horn blows and the enemy charges. Your catapult is the first line of defence, it manages to deal heavy damage; but not before the enemy responds in kind and unleashes a huge boulder straight at the wall, which caves right through it. The enemy cavalry rushes at the opening, but with quick thinking, you bring the trebuchet from the castle at the hole and fire through it; surprising the enemy and catching them off guard. Your helpers pour boiling hot oil at the soldiers attempting to scale the wall. They fall screaming, but a few manage to get up and this results to a skirmish at the walls. Eventually you’re forced to fall back to the palace walls.
The enemy constantly pursue as you retreat, however the drawbridge is able to close just in time, causing a few enemy riders to fall in the moat, from where they’re picked off by archers. However, the enemy army still outnumbers you, and by using a battering ram, they manage to break through the gates. Your men-at-arms are ready for them though, as a bloody and gruelling battle ensues and you’re caught in the thick of it.
You find yourself in a situation, you’re cut off from your personal guard for a moment, as a flanking force of four enemy soldiers attempt to corner you. One of them rushes at you, but you manage to bring up your sword just overhead at the nick of the time and riposte the tip straight through his throat. However, it’s momentarily stuck, and in that moment, two of the soldiers hack at you simultaneously. You bring the sword and body stuck to it, between one of them, but the other slashes your arm, however it’s just a flesh wound. You push the sword through the body and through the guts of both, the already dead soldier, and the alive one behind it. Then you quickly dislodge your sword, and turn to strike the remaining soldi-
You stop.
You see a familiar face. He doesn’t stop until he comes near you and as he was close, you knew it was him “It really is you,”, you drop your sword refusing to fight him.
“I have longed for this moment since past two decades. I have longed for you, to get all the answers”, you say, crying and breaking down.
“Father, I never liked people disrespecting you and I always wanted you to be the king so that after you, I can continue to rule the throne. I knew with him on the throne, this was not possible. This was the reason why I accompanied you to all your meetings even in those exclusive meetings. That night, I bribed those mercenaries and the girls to go drug the king so that we can kidnap him. I distracted the guards which made the entry and exit of mercenaries and the king easy and soon, I gave all of them enough money to escape but you being you, tracked down everyone. But father, I am your son. I could never afford to get caught by you, so I ran far away and made my own army to attack your kingdom and take up the throne from you. You have to die too. This throne is mine. A mastermind like me deserves to be here,” said your son.
You are shocked and broken. It’s hard for you to believe. You get numb by his words. “How could you do-” and before you complete your sentence, Williams stabs your son and your son falls down, on your lap.
“It’s hard for me to believe that my son could do anything like that. Today karma killed you. You paid for your sins” you cry.
“Save me, father. I can’t let go of this throne.”
“I can’t. its your destiny. For the taste of your elixir, this is the price you needed to pay- your bloody life. For fame and power, you killed the king. You took away his life to get your elixir. Now to get it for me, you have to sacrifice this life at least” you reply, sad yet bold.
“You can’t do this to me”, your son cried.
“I am doing this. But, what happened to the king. Where did he go?” you ask.
“He’s there where the treasure of the kingdom is hidden,” saying this, your son breathed his last.
Soon the battle and bloodshed is over. The scene, is one of utter carnage and destruction, though you, have come out victorious. Dismembered corpses litter around and the decayed stench of the dead is everywhere in the atmosphere, as ravens come down to feed on the fallen.
War…war never changes…
“We have found our lost king!” you declare.
This leaves everyone wondering where did you find the king.
You know, the treasure is hidden under the king’s throne. You know you will find it under it. As you remove the carpet, you find the door, leading to a trunk and as you open the trunk you see it. Your king’s skeleton. Its been years and you never realised that he was being hidden here. He was killed by you son and dumped here.
“He hid the body when we all left to find the clue in the kingdom of silver crown. Somehow, I feel proud today” you say as you take a sigh of relief.
Everyone paid a price to finally taste the elixir. For the king, lust and desire was his elixir and he had to pay for that with his life. For my son, it was power and he had to pay for that with death as well. Sometimes I just wonder, why we as humans run behind things we cannot obtain, why do we have this never-ending desire to obtain what we need, but even if we do we’re never satisfied? Why are we trapped in this vicious circle of lust and greed? Why?
Well, little does it matter why, in the end, the only thing we can do is hopefully gain a modicum of control over this desire before it consumes us.
Some questions in this universe, are best left unanswered…
