¤ Controversy

‘Yes, that is a good idea.’ King Kranz muses, a thoughtful finger trailing along the arm of his chair.

‘Thank you, your Majesty.’ Verchiel inclines his electric green head slightly. ‘I was fearful that your Majesty might find my suggestion too bizarre.’

‘You know I always welcome suggestions from my Advisors. Besides, some of my Court would agree that my own ideas of government alone are bizarre beyond fairy comprehension.’ The King smiles ironically. ‘Something that ought to be worrying, if even my own people cannot comprehend me, do you not think so?’

‘You have not let that stop you in making wise decisions, your Majesty.’ Verchiel says, carefully keeping his face blank. All he feels is contempt for this mortal-loving old fool, but unfortunately, this old fool is also his King and Uncle, and the largest obstacle in Verchiel’s quest for ultimate power.

Kranz starts to brood. ‘And make decisions, I must now. Sorra’s death was most unexpected.’ Death never is expected, in the world of immortals. The fairies live day to day to day, secure in their eternity and haughty in their power. And when the rare death occurs, it rouses ripples across the fairy world as the fairies are forced to realise and remember that the great leveller awaits for all. Whether in the form of fatal violence, or terminal disease, death will come to claim them all sooner or later.

Verchiel murmurs the appropriate responses and condolences, before saying again. ‘The Court cannot do without a War Advisor for long, your Majesty. Another rogue agent like Maldrich might strike again, and we cannot be without proper defences. With two Advisor positions vacant, Orbis will be doubly vulnerable. I advise your Majesty to make your decision as swiftly as possible.’

‘Yes. The other empty Advisor chair has been left so for too long.’ Kranz’s deep voice is pensive.

‘It was most regrettable that my fellow Advisor would plot such treachery, your Majesty. I should have been more alert.’

‘There was no neglect on your part, Verchiel.’ The King assures his nephew, but there is a slight sorrow in his forest green eyes. ‘I had not thought her to be capable of treason either.’

There is a short pause. ‘However, your suggestion to have two Advisor candidates drawn from the Academy… I am afraid I will have to tell you that I do not find it feasible.’

‘Your Majesty?’ Verchiel’s emerald eyes widen slightly, as if surprised at this sudden turn of the conversation. ‘Your Majesty, if you fear the Court’s disapproval, I am sure that they can be persuaded. It is easy to see that such a move would not only inject the ranks of Advisor with much needed young blood, but also…’ He trails off at the hand the King holds up.

‘That is not what I am worried about.’ Kranz laughs, his pure golden wings shaking as he does so. ‘I have not managed to not achieve such disapproval ever since my coronation. However, it might be simply too much for the Court to accept such a drastic change all at one go. It would be best if we seek candidates for a War Advisor first.’

‘Still, your Majesty-‘

‘Nephew, I am not done,’ Kranz gives Verchiel a quelling look. Verchiel quickly murmurs an apology, aware that he has gone too far. But nothing prepares him for what Kranz would say next.

‘My Court cannot be expected to accept the drastic change without too much of an outcry, especially since I am thinking that the position of Advisor should not be only opened to our fairy youths.’

What in Ossyria is that fool monarch talking about? It takes all that Verchiel has to keep the shock from his face, but his long years as a courtier allow him to keep his expressionless mask firmly in place. ‘I am afraid I do not understand you, your Majesty.’

‘Surely not, Verchiel.’ Kranz raises an eyebrow. ‘I believe it is time that we further strengthen our relationship with our mortal counterparts, and as you have so kindly pointed out, there is need for fresh blood in my Court. And what better ways to achieve both at one time than to allow a mortal student the chance to be appointed as Advisor?’

Verchiel is quick to rebut. ‘Your Majesty, the position of Advisor has always been occupied by those of fairy blood. The previous unconventional appointment did not end up well, and the Court still remembers it. A decision like that would create a controversy that I fear might be too much for your Majesty to handle.’ Verchiel keeps unspoken the fact that the uproar might also prove too much for himself to handle. He has many supporters in Kranz’s court, he had made sure of it, but most of them are conservative fairy lords and ladies.

What would they think if he allowed Kranz to pass such an absurd decree?

‘I am used to controversy, nephew. Do you think your Royal uncle deaf to what my courtiers whisper in my Court?’ The King’s green eyes are no longer jovial. Verchiel could feel them staring at him, and in one fleeting moment, he feels a very unfamiliar feeling uncoil in his belly and only recognises it as fear after it disappears.

He wonders if Kranz has somehow detected his schemes; no doubt his Royal uncle has his suspicions (who in the fairy Court never holds suspicions?), but he is safe as long as the King knows of no details.

‘As Headmaster, you will aid me in organising trials that will pick out the best students from the Academy as candidates. Let there be fair competition between our fairy youths and the mortal students. Of course, I am to make the final decision on who to appoint as Advisor.’ The King continues mildly, but his green eyes never leave his nephew’s.

‘Of course, your Majesty.’ Verchiel’s voice is a polite, subservient monotone. It continues to be so for the small remainder of the conversation, and Verchiel quickly excuses himself from the King’s presence. As he sweeps out of the room, the guard standing outside the door caught sight of the expression of icy cold fury on the fairy lord’s face and hurries move out of his way.

The brooding Verchiel pays no attention to him. His plan was to present his suggestion for both empty Advisor positions to be filled by Academy students, a suggestion that sounded ridiculous even to Verchiel, such that the King will feel compelled to make and accept his own suggestion of a lesser settlement of having just one of the positions thus filled.

He could then manoeuvre it such that Sorra’s son would receive the appointment, as he had promised the boy; once that hot-headed youth becomes War Advisor, the path for Maldrich and his nightmare army will be clear, and Verchiel’s schemes will succeed at last.

Yet now! There are still ways to make this work in his favour, he knows, but why did the old fool have to keep making things so complicated?

The time when he would be rid of Kranz could not come too quickly.

The light from the window fades on the second scene.

She sat under the window now, feeling very tired. She had felt the anger and hatred that the fairy lord in the window had kept under admirably ruthless control, and it exhausted her. How could anyone maintain such intense emotions for so long? But the anger and the hatred had felt so natural, nestling at the front of her head like a snake coiled to strike.

Her head was heavy. She still could not make sense of what she saw, all she knew was that a scheme was going on to destroy that place called El Nath. The nagging sensation that called from beyond the dark space started to tug at her again, like an urgent summons. It was so strong that she had gotten to her feet and started to take a few steps before realising that she did not know where to go. The soft voices in the wind screeched in maddening laughter at her confusion, singing in crazed delight, who’s lost, who’s lost, who’s anywhere?!

She could not even give voice to her frustration. True, she no longer wondered why she could only keep on appearing here, but she was starting to wonder if she could get out of this place. She had a feeling that it will take only a few more visits to this dark place before she was reduced to one of the insane voices that taunted her now.

And where was the Soul, the one that had called itself Silver? It seemed to be able to leave the place at will; perhaps it could help her? She missed its soothing presence, the rock-steady security that it provided in the madness of the wind that filled her small world.

But just as she finished that thought, the tingling feeling of herself disintegrating signalled the end of her fleeting moment of consciousness. She let it spread up her hands and feet, glad for the escape from the demented laughter that now pressed against her hearing like a prickly cushion. Her last thoughts were, incongruously, about the amount of food a hundred Werewolves would need for a ten-day march, before the dark velvet of nothingness smothered her again.

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Another long and tedious chapter. The sort you skip when you read a novel.
I need to revamp the way the fairies speak. >.>

I just got back my scripts for four subjects, one after another. While I haven’t failed anything yet (In fact, I passed Chemistry, for the first time this year XD), I’m not exactly on a “straight-A’s” roll either. And Major MAJOR exams are on the 2nd of November. Which means I have to settle down to study really really soon. Sighs. How it hurts when RL bites.

Enough of my random rambling, as if my chapter wasn’t boring enough. Who wants chocolate cream swirl cookies! ^^