"Elder. The winds get colder and the ground hardens. The animals retreat and the lakes freeze. Please, I beg you. What must I do, to secure our people's future." The muscular bowed his head, his voice pleading to the old man who looked like a withered tree.
His eyes white without colour opened as he stared deep into the man's soul. The black paint on his eyes created a white abyss for onlookers captivating the man. Despite his blindness, his movements were accurate, lighting a green herb on fire, the smoke filling the tent. The man's vision went blurry breaking him from his hypnosis soon seeing double. The world spun with the elder reaching his hands out to grab the man.
His bony fingers felt like they pierced through his skull, his word entering directly through them. "The north." With a deep breath, he placed his forehead on the man, "Cross the great lake and find the land promised."
"Itssss jussst leggend." His words slowly become drawn out The elder burnt more herbs this time purple.
"The heroes of pass have seen it. The golden fields, the hordes of animals, lakes that don't freeze." Undestirbured by the smoke he spoke. His voice dry. "Imagine it. A glimpse at the God's vision." Buring a third blue herb, he lit a fire in front of the man.
His eyes which had been spinning focused on the fire. Seconds went by with nothing. Before he could speak the elder spoke. "Your heart wavers. Believe in what the Gods show. Golden fields, hordes of animals, unfrozen lakes."
The elder repeated the words numerous times as his words started to come from numerous directions. The man stared into the fire unblinking. Visions of endless fields with a herd of horses running on it appeared. His eyes filled with tears as he watched the vision change. A lake with hundreds of people drinking from it.
His body swayed before falling backwards. The pictures on the tent ceiling moved. Drawings of people sailing boats across the great lake. Warriors fighting great beasts and winning. The Gods accepting the offerings of man. Finally, his eyes landed on a handprint. It pulled itself out of the tent and floated in front of him. Its index finger pointed at him before tuning into the direction of the Great Lake.
"The Gods have blessed me. North it is." Gone were his slurring words. Closing his eyes the man collapsed into a deep sleep, his dreams filled with old tales of heroes and warriors, himself amongst them.
Alfred paced back and forth. Now 18 he thought he would get better at controlling his nerves yet he found himself unable to. Inside the room, Isra's screams could be heard. He nervously bit his finger, unsure of what to do. He had never been a father, and the weight on his shoulder grew heavier with every passing moment.
Chris stood by his side watching the young man. He wanted to comfort him but didn't know where to start. He had never had a child let alone a wife. The midwife inside yelled words of encouragement and orders at Isra as the screams intensified.
"Ahhhhh." With one final scream, the sound of a baby's piercing cries could be heard. A few seconds passed with Isra's panicked voice coming through the door. "No no no no no. What's wrong with him?"
"Wait here?" Alfred ordered Chris as he charged into the room. He could hear the panic in his wife's voice and knew something had gone wrong. Looking at the boy in her hands he could tell instantly that something wasn't right. Its legs bent and broken in numerous directions.
Alfred felt his mind go blank; the noise slowly drowned into a buzzing sound. His eyes unable to separate from his child. Reaching out he took the baby. Looking down at its crying face, he could tell its pain. Tears welled up as he felt his heartbreak.
The thought of killing it and putting it out of its misery entered as quickly as it left. He knew he would never be able to do it. He hated himself for even thinking about it but the world they were in was hard for healthy people to survive.
Staring at its crying face his quiet yet firm voice spread through the room. "Edward." With a soft smile, he looked at his son. His black hair and blue eyes were the perfect blend of the two. His skin more white than brown making him look tanned. Alfred knew his son would grow to be handsome.
Isra looked at Alfred with tears in her eyes. Looking back at her his deep blue eyes shook as he knelt next to her placing the baby in the midwife's hands. "He's Edward." He tried to keep it together but the shaking in his voice broke Isra who began to cry.
Lying on his bed the Sultan gasped for air. His sons and advisors stood beside his bed. No words left his mouth only the heavy breathing of a dying man. He had been of perfect health for so long that no one doubted it was a poisoning. All looked at one another unable to trust each other, wondering who the next to suffer the same fate would be.
Opening his heavy eyes he looked at his family. Through pure willpower, he spoke. "Na...sr... he.... is..... heir....Har" His words were quiet and weak and although he wished to continue he fell asleep. Despite that, the tension in the room erupted. All the brothers looked at Nasr like he stole the throne whilst the man in question smiled as if he achieved a great victory.
The decision was a shock to all as it broke tradition established since the Sulatnate's establishment, passing over the eldest child. Everyone could only think the decision had been made due to Nasr's close proximity to the Sultane for the year since he first fell ill, becoming the defacto ruler in his place. Yet it also made him the prime suspect.
Nasr walked forward and crouched beside his father. "Thank you, father. Your trust and judgment are not wrong in this." Standing up and turning around he looked at them all with the eyes of a snake, walking past, his followers quickly trailing behind.
Harun, the eldest, looked down at his father with empty eyes, unable to believe what had just been said. He knew there was more to that sentence but with his father asleep now it meant nothing. He cursed the tradition that had always been more ceremonial than used in practice, only existing to solidify the eldest son's place or choose a replacement if they were unfit to rule for any reason. It had cost him his birthright.
Taking one last look at his father he knew that if he did nothing that would be him. Scrunching his face and turning he pushed passed his brothers. Their mocking faces of being the first in history to be sidelined for no good reason, built on his anger. Looking at Nasr's back in the distance he knew it was something that couldn't stand.