Chapter Seventy-Six – For The Future

Demeka and Sinley weren't sure if they were supposed to bow. Though he was a powerful figure, Duron was a different class of sovereign. Their hearts raced as he sat upon his throne and listened to their story with great interest.

Although, Jerimoth and Wanderer were willing to accompany the couple through the underground tunnels, as soon as they found themselves surrounded and at the gangster's mercy, the jaded former Knight's concern spiked. Duron's children circled them like a hungry pack awaiting the command to capture them and collect a reward from the White Knights.

Wanderer's head twitched whenever she heard the hiss of an unsheathed blade or the crackle of someone playing with fire. ''Do they at least look friendlier than they sound?'' she asked.

''I should keep my lips sealed,'' Jerimoth grumbled and fixed his gaze back onto the innkeepers as they finished disclosing their plan.

Duron leaned back into his skeletal seat and threaded his fingers together. Every movement he made, no matter how slow or deliberate, sent an unseen tremor reverberating throughout the liar. He didn't say a word as a faint smile grew underneath his tusks as he hummed a quiet tune to himself.

Too anxious to wait for a response, Demeka stepped forward. ''The King is still in the castle. The only way to get inside without being caught is through the tunnels.''

Sinley nodded. ''We are aware that these tunnels belong to you, so that's why we came to you first. We did not want to impose or make you feel threatened...''

All of the gangsters threw their heads back in a fit of laughter. They launched one heckle after the other at the innkeepers. The couple latched their hands together, powerless to stop the abuse weighing down on them as they thought of their daughter to keep hope alive. However, Duron remained silent in the midst the berating chorus and his smile faded. With one glare, he muzzled his children and they bowed their heads apologetically.

''There is a hidden world beneath the one you call home,'' Duron said. ''The one who controls these tunnels will hold more power in this country than any king could hope to possess behind castle walls. Over the years, many have tried to conquer my world. Yet, not a single soul, has come to ask for my permission to walk in my domain.''

Demeka gulped. ''You saved us once before. We did not want to disrespect your home.''

With a wide grin, Duron glanced at Jerimoth. ''You could learn from these two.''

''I know,'' Jerimoth replied, lowering his gaze to the ground.

Duron released a booming laugh. ''I never thought I'd live to say the day Sir Jerimoth Siwel would forgo his pride. What has the world come to?''

Jerimoth's face twisted in frustration. ''Do we have your permission?''

''Aye,'' Duron crooked his head to the side, guiding their eyes to a slanted tunnel in the distance. ''Follow the path until you're welcomed by the smell of fine meat and wine. At a certain point, you will see the foundation of the castle. I am almost tempted to journey with you and see where the King has been hiding.''

''We could use your help,'' Demeka said.

''I am honoured that you would think of me as an alley. But, my son is already assisting your daughter and the Princess with their own quest. I will not risk any more of my children. This is where we part ways.''

Afraid of pushing their luck too far, the couple graciously bowed to the gangster.

Demeka and Sinley hurried towards the tunnel. Following closely behind them, Jerimoth and Wanderer helped each other to move. Darkness engulfed them as they disappeared down the shadowy passageway with only a crude fire torch to brighten their path. As soon as they disappeared into the unknown, the gangsters clustered around Duron.

''Father, why have you taken such a liking to this family?'' one of them inquired.

Duron smiled. ''The best way to understand a person is to see how far they are willing to go for family. People like them are who I admire most in this world.''

~X~

Their cautious steps echoed off the subterranean walls. Striding as quickly as they could down the route, Demeka and Sinley recoiled every time a shadow moved. Insects crawled out of the earth to greet them before disappearing out of sight.

''How does Ailith do this?'' Demeka questioned.

Sinley gave her a shaky smile. ''When we see her again, we'll ask.''

''If she's not already dead,'' Jerimoth mumbled from behind. Before the couple could even glare at him, he raised his hand tentatively. ''Force of habit.''

A sigh slipped out of Wanderer. ''The thought of death keeps you shackled down. If you're not careful, you'll find yourself buried before your grave has been dug.''

Jerimoth shrugged as he hobbled along. ''The thing that scares me most is not the knowledge that I don't have long to go. It's that I don't know how much time I have left.''

Demeka stopped and turned to face him. ''Then don't shorten the time you have left. Make every moment count. You still have friends in this world that care for you. We may not last forever, but the memories we hold do. We carry them with us into the next world. When that day comes, don't destroy the memories you wish to keep because you'll never get them back.''

He didn't say a word. He didn't even look at her. It wasn't needed though, as Demeka could see his face soften and the colour in his eyes slowly return. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed his hold on Wanderer strengthen.

''You want to know why your daughter is the way she is?'' he finally asked.

''Why's that?''

''Because she had you for a mother.'' He turned to her and rolled his eyes once he caught her beaming at him. ''Gods, you even have the same smile.''

The sudden echo of hurrying footsteps dragged Demeka's attention away from Jerimoth. She saw Sinley coming into view, panting heavily. ''I think I've found it.'' He gasped.

They quickly followed him and turned a corner, coming upon a large chamber with several stone pillars lined up and holding the ceiling. The damp smell that had latched itself onto them since the start of their venture disappeared as they stood below the bricked cover.

''This has to be it,'' Demeka said, turning to face Wanderer. ''Can you get us through?''

''Perhaps.''

Demeka arched her brow. ''Perhaps?''

''It's been so long since I've had to phase another person through objects with me. I might be out of practice.''

The innkeepers exchanged a concerned glance with each other. Sinley licked his lips nervously. ''What would happen to us if we don't pass through?''

Jerimoth cleared his throat. ''Do you know what a fossil is?''

''Yes...''

''Have you ever wanted to be one?''

Sinley's face paled. ''I can't say that I have.''

Demeka lifted her head, gazing at their best shot of entering the castle. She exhaled and balled her fists to stop her arms from shaking. ''We didn't come this far to turn back now.''

They huddled together for Wanderer to wrap her arms around their shoulders. They looked to Jerimoth as he crouched down on his leg. The rock beneath his foot slowly cracked. He would need to put a decent amount of strength into this leap to carry them all. If Wanderer's magic failed, it would result in a bone-crushing crash. Demeka and Sinley closed their eyes and pressed their foreheads together as they waited for the fateful moment.

''Now!'' Jerimoth called and vaulted towards the ceiling.

Demeka and Sinley felt a weightless as they resisted the temptation to open their eyes. A numbing sensation enveloped them for a fleeting moment. After a sudden jolt, they stopped moving. Looking around, the innkeepers were lost in a trance, captivated by the marble columns and enchanting decor of the castle hallways.

Wasting no time, Jerimoth guided them down a hallway for cover, moving away from the faint specks of aura he could feel flickering from the White Knights that stalked the corridors in the distance.

''I'll be your eyes,'' he whispered to Wanderer.

As they careened through the hallways, Jerimoth offered vague descriptions of their surroundings, helping to jog Wanderer's memories. She steered them through doors, walls and stairwells, skirting around the patrolling guards without making a sound. Within one of the chambers, dozens of White Knights feasted on the foods that had been delivered past the borders meant for the citizens.

Before long, they came upon a dark and narrow passageway that even Jerimoth didn't recognise. Encouraged by their blind guide to continue, they passed through the endless maze of dust and cobwebs, always wary of any more surprises.

Just as they were beginning to question if they were still in the castle, they passed through a one last stone wall and stopped instantly. Their jaws dropped as they were left in awe.

Wanderer snickered. ''Judging by those gasps, it sounds like we made it.''

Lustrous braziers hanging from the walls wrapped the room in a warm radiance, with large mirrors on the oblique ceiling dancing in the light. Beneath the weak flames, dilapidated portraits dotted the walls, too worn for the figures of interest to be seen. A moulded fountain sat atop an elevated platform in the centre of the room. Dry pieces of it had broken off. The grand scale couldn't be understated, despite its ebbing majesty.

Jerimoth raised his arm to stop the others from moving. He lifted a finger to his lips and then gestured to the fountain.

A large hand came up from behind. After a failed attempt to grip the architecture, a body came into view and dropped to the ground. Pained coughing echoed throughout the room. Jerimoth's eyes widened as he recognised the body instantly.

They dashed around the fountain and found Kiros lying on the ground, wheezing and trembling. Though he could still tower over many, his cheeks had hollowed and the skin under his eyes was terribly wrinkled. The elegant robe protecting his modesty had rotted, clinging to his shrivelled body. On the floor beside him rested a broken crown.

''Your Majesty,'' Jerimoth scooped his arm underneath the monarch's body and helped him so that he could sit up with his back resting against the fountain.

''Jerimoth?'' Kiros said hoarsely, unable to say another word without coughing violently.

As quickly as he could, Sinley reached for a small pouch hanging from his belt and retrieved a flask of water. Careful not to touch him, he gently pressed it against the King's parched lips. Happy to accept the offering, Kiros gulped down the full contents of the flask, panting heavily as he did so. Wanderer reached out and placed her hand against his chest, feeling it shakily rise and fall.

Kiros stared at each of them, barely able to keep his eyes open. ''How did you find me?''

Wanderer bowed. ''The fault is mine, Your Majesty.''

''Through your fault, I am forever indebted to you.'' He replied, giving her a weak grin.

''Gods,'' Jerimoth gasped. ''Have you been here this whole time? How have you survived?''

Fighting against the pain, Kiros turned his head to look around at the secret room. The light from the fire poured onto his pallid face, sending a ghastly chill down the backs of everyone who could see him. ''My father never found this place, even as he burnt the kingdom of Kreavdon to the ground.''

Jerimoth flinched. ''You knew?''

''Sadly, it is an atrocity I can confirm was committed by my father. He told me so himself.''

''But, when Kardas said-,''

''If I opposed the king, he would see fit to execute me!'' Kiros barked, startling them with his tone and his revelation. ''Not even his own blood was safe from his wrath. While I didn't know the full scale of his barbarism history, I knew that if not stopped, he would write the future in the blood of his victims. Darice and I had to find another way.''

Wanderer lifted her head. ''The Queen?''

Kiros nodded. The anger in his eyes faded. ''She had earned enough of my father's trust to find a seat on the council. I became aware of her plans to kill the King and tried to stop her. There was part of me that didn't want to believe I was the son of a monster. But, I was fooling myself. Darice helped me to understand that. We vowed to do whatever it took to remove Niru from the throne. We...became close. We tried not to. But, not loving her was an impossibility.''

Looking around the room once more, Sinley smiled. ''This is where you fell in love.''

''Darice brought me here. It was here she told me of her mission to kill my father. It was here we shared our first kiss, and when she told me she was carrying our child.''

''Your Majesty,'' Jerimoth said. ''What really happened to King Niru?''

''We poisoned him.''

The room was cast in silence. Jerimoth stared at Kiros as if he didn't recognise him.

''It was painless,'' Kiros sighed. ''That was the least I could offer him. We asked the healers to tell everyone my father passed in his sleep from a weak heart and blood infection. Then, the Gods punished my actions by taking Darice. She died from a heart attack months later.''

Demeka cupped her hand over her mouth. ''I'm so sorry.''

Kiros grabbed Jerimoth's collar and pulled him closer. Tears glazed his eyes. ''You want to know how I survived? It's because I refuse to die in a place where my dearest memories reside. I refuse to die without giving my daughter one last smile to comfort her!''

As he sobbed, Sinley gave the King a reassuring smile. ''That's why we came to find you. Your daughter has a plan.''

''Nassandra? Is she safe?'' Kiros questioned. His renewed sense of hope was put on hold as he furrowed his brow at Sinley and Demeka. ''Who are you?''

''You might know our daughter, Ailith?'' Demeka replied, kneeling next to her husband. ''They escaped the lockdown. They're heading to Fylian to bring help.''

Kiros sat back, looking over the couple's shoulders and staring at the wall as if he could see the outside world and its horizon. The thought of his daughter fighting her way to Fylian etched a proud smiled on his face. However, his dignified demeanour faltered. ''She doesn't know. What would she think of me if she knew what I allowed?''

''Let's not worry about that now,'' Demeka said. ''We need to focus on getting you out of here. We can bring you to our inn and-,''

Kiros shook his head. ''You should just leave me. I left this Kingdom to die. Even with my father gone, I was powerless to make a difference. Nassandra is the future. I'm only a relic. The people of my kingdom deserve better.''

''Then be better!''

All eyes turned to Jerimoth after his sudden outburst.

He stood up and offered a hand to the dismayed monarch. ''We may only have one life, but that doesn't mean we should waste it because of mistakes in our past. If you truly care about the future, then you can make the effort to create a better future for yourself as well as your daughter's. Who knows how long we have left in this world? So, make every moment count. Be the King your country wants! Be the father your daughter needs! If I want to fight for my second chance, I expect the same of you...Your Majesty!''

Kiros's teary eyes locked onto Jerimoth's hand. Plagued with uncertainty, he slowly started to turn away. For a split second, he paused and thought of Nassandra again. Remembering the doubt and fear that lingered over her, he was reminded of her efforts to become a great Queen, just like her mother. Their love still thrived and it would continue as long as he kept fighting.

With a strong grip, he accepted Jerimoth's hand.

A/N: Hello guys, girls and everyone else. I hope that you are all well and keeping safe during this time. I'm sorry for the wait with new chapters. I am now no longer needed to go into work, so I'll be home until things calm down and I'm hoping that means I can get some more writing done. In the meantime, keep on reading and I hope that you enjoy what is to come next. Thank you all and take care.