The richness of the king's chamber was carried across the air, added to the amenity of the brow that Finnian made respectfully, seeking permission first.
"May I come in, Your Majesty?" he asked; his voice was just a bit resonant in the grand hallway.
"You may," came the reply; the king's voice was even, commanding.
He entered the tent, and his eyes met with the sight of the king, seated in front of him with the flair of a kingly manner. The king, stern and full of power, gestured to a bottle of dark liquor. In one smooth move, Finnian poured the spirit into two ornate cups, and its aroma mixed with the air of ancient times in the room.
The king took a cup for himself and bade Finnian with a nod to take a seat opposite him. "Sit here," he said with an open sweep of his arm, expensively appointed hand indicating an equally expensively appointed seat. "What, Your Majesty, am I summoned here to hear, then?" asked Finnian, his eyes smiling, for never a subject of the crown was he, not if he could help it.
"Is it about—" Finnian started to say, but the king cut him off with a stern "No."
"It is not what you're thinking," the king said with finality. "We have already discussed that matter, and you have my approval for it."
Surprise danced across Finnian's face. If not the matter of his bonding with Eleanora, then what pressing matter did this meeting pertain to? He stared into the king's face, trying to get a glimpse of anything, but the ruler's expression was inscrutable.
A heavy silence filled the air, a prelude to revelations untold until the king shattered the serenity with a question that delved deep into the annals of their history. "Do you know how I ascended as the Monarch?" he asked.
Finnian shook his head not knowing.
"By ending my father's reign," said the king, his eyes lifeless, as though the very deed had put out the fire in them. Finnian shrank, for never had he looked into such abysmal eyes.
"It was for that I summoned you," the monarch went on, his voice stepping down to a whisper that was an unstrung harp. "A Monarch God's powers are a legacy of blood and sacrifice; Chrono Shift: This power allows the user the ability to manipulate the flow of time. This can take various forms, like shifting oneself or others backward or forward in time, changing the rate of flow of time, or even something like a close time loop. A splendid power, it requires deft control lest the possessor meet consequences that might prove untoward a timeline; Aethershift: an otherworldly or superhuman power that allows its wielder to appear instantaneously from one side to the other side of an intervening space without making a visible advance through the intermediate space; Harmony Whisper This mystical ability allows the user to instill peace and balance in their surroundings. It is the power to calm conflicts, soothe troubled minds, and bring disparate forces into a state of equilibrium all by the mere sound of one's voice. Used to bring healing, meditation, and an aura of quiet to an otherwise agitated space; Omnilingualism is the supernatural ability to understand and speak any form of language—a power, that enables communication across any barrier of language or dialect. What a polyglot is to man, the omnilingual is to the universe. And most important of all, the Authority of Monarch and my authority as a proper god, that no one can deny my bidding no matter how against it they are—These I gleaned upon my father's demise."
He let the words sit, let them have their weight. "The Founding gods decree that one in our line alone shall have the benefit of these powers. To rise, a successor must the fall of his predecessor bring."
There was distinct palpability to the shock that washed over Finnian. "S-so, for Eleanora to rise, she would need to… need to kill you?" he said, the look on his face pure disbelief.
"Yes," the king replied, his voice firm but edged with sorrow.
"How will she… How can she fulfill such a fate?" Finnian's hands shook, his desperation akin to the heave of his quivering frame.
"That is why I have summoned you," the king replied with utmost gravity. "You must guide her, help her accept this grim reality. It is an ineluctable fate."
Finnian had no words, dumbfounded by the bigness of the task.
"As a father, I beg you to take care of her," he begged, his smile a fragile thing woven with vulnerability and melancholy. "You are her knight, her chosen. Please, care for her."
With that, he dismissed the king. "Go now; it grows late, and she will scold me if I detain you further."
Finnian left the king's chambers, and the heavy oak shut behind him, its resounding sound echoing like the finality of their conversation. In front of him stretched a torch-lit hall; the dancing flames of its fire sent shadows to dance around him, almost as if specters of his future now were dancing there.
He walked with a deliberate stride, each step weighted with the king's words. That Eleanora, his love, was bound by such an unkind and relentless fate lay upon his heart like a stone. Yet, as he approached her quarters, Finnian resolved to shield her from this burden, if only for a little while longer.
He paused at her door, collecting the pieces of his composure. With a light push, the door opened and let in Eleanora's figure against the window, her form bathed in the soft glow of the moon.
With nothing said, Finnian crossed the room and wrapped his arms around her from behind, pulling her into a protective embrace.
Eleanora turned within his arms, against him. Her eyes, with the reflection of the moon's rays, searched his for some sign of a storm brewing in his soul. "Finnian," she whispered as her hands rose to trace the lines of worry across his brow. "There is a shadow in your eyes tonight."
He smiled the tender curve of his lips, and in it held a bittersweet edge. "It's nothing," he lied, the words sounding smooth but laced with weight from unspoken truths.
In a moment of connection, her forehead touched his, speaking far more than any words. Finnian moved to cup her face, the stroking of her cheeks with his thumbs given with such reverence that sent a flutter to her heart. "You are the light in my darkness," he whispered.
The only answer from Eleanora was a soft sigh; her lips parted as if to speak, but instead, she closed the space between them. They stood there, wrapped in each other's arms.
As the world outside faded into insignificance, for now, they sought solace in holding each other.
Finnian rested his chin on the top of her head. "Stay with me tonight," Eleanora murmured, sounding vulnerable.
He nodded, and his mind was made. Tonight they would find comfort in each other's arms and attempt to forget the intricacies of their positions and the fate that lay before them. They fell onto the plush bed, still entwined in each other's arms, their hearts beating as one. Eleanora laid her head on his chest and listened as he breathed. They slumbered safely and serenely beside one another, their cares forgotten for a time.