There's always a point in time where the tension rope has finally been pulled too tight. I knew it was bound to happen eventually, but I'm not sure my mother expected it. And I didn't either in the way it broke.
With each day passing my mother became grieved in an unknown issue that I couldn't begin to fathom could be her cause of distress.
She would lock herself in the throne room, ignoring the training for the day. This would lead to me spending my entire days with Emmony and dealing with Atlas.
I found it satisfying when I spent time with Emmony- a minor part of that due to my mother's objections with our friendship- but mostly due to the fact that Emmony was the only who understood me, whatever mood I was in. I could confine in her what I couldn't even with myself. She always had a thoughtful solution to my many problems; always calm and patient.
Which was the reason why I bought my recent issues to her, in hopes of guidance.
We sat in the stables- our new, favorite place to hideaway- caring to our steeds.
"I'm not too concerned about her, honestly, but it irritates me when she neglects her duties in training me." I said.
Emmony responded from the next stall. "Perhaps she's falling ill."
"Doubtful. She seems more pressured than usual, but I see no increase in her work."
"Have you asked her?"
I gave a dry laugh. "Of course, but she doesn't feel the need to tell me. But who am I for her to tell me such pressing matters?"
Even though I couldn't see her I could tell she was staring at me with a disapproving expression as told by her tone.
"You're her son. Her only child and family."
"Tell her that."
I had put away the brush and picked up a sharp tool to scrap the bottom of Atlas' feet with.
"I simply want to know the reason behind her madness."
"She has a complex way of doing things, perhaps this just another example."
"You're telling me nothing new." I said.
We met eyes for a second as I stood up to move to the other side of the horse. She was frowning, but I didn't say anything else. After about a minute she spoke up.
"You seem to be a bit irritated yourself."
I sighed. "I don't mean to complain, but I'm getting tired of playing these games."
"I understand. I think both of you are getting tired of playing the game."
She was staring at me as I stood up to look at her with questioning eyes.
"You don't understand, she has created this game, therefore she controls it. Or at least she believes she does."
"Xalale, you're missing the point."
"What point?"
"She's your mother. You used to be so close to her, but now you've pulled away. You're both blind to the mistakes you've made."
As much as Emmony understood, there was so much more that she couldn't comprehend. She had never known the feeling of being rejected by so many people- people that should have cared but didn't. There was so much naivety in her, it upset me deeply.
"I've made no mistakes that invoke the division that she made."
With that, I collected my tools and was ready to storm out of the stables, but Emmony- always faster- blocked me at the stall.
"I place no blame on you, I never had."
"Your words tell otherwise." I said curtly, trying to get past her.
She held firm and looked me straight in the eyes, which was a custom when she was saying something genuine.
"I mean no harm in my words. I really don't. I just want to know you're happy."
Her voice was low, but it spoke volume.
"Why do you care so much about the state of my contentment?"
Her eyes shimmered in the light as she looked at me, her usual smile on her face.
"Because I care about you, Xalale. I know that you have trouble believing that now, but it's the truth. I've always cared about you and I always will, regardless of what you may think."
It was impossible for the anger to remain upon seeing and hearing her statement. I could trust her to be there even when I was full of doubt- this was what drew me to her.
We studied each other in silence for a second before she leaned forward, closing the space between us.
I had never shared an intimate moment with anyone before, but there was no one I would have rather shared it with than Emmony.
We were both breathless once we pulled back, and she backed away seeming slightly ashamed, but I quickly captured her in another breathless moment. She didn't back down again- she was reassured.
As we held each other, everything confusing made sense, my problems didn't matter, my responsibilities weren't important, the only thing important to me was Emmony. The way she felt, the way she smiled behind the kiss, the way she held me. The most amazing part was the thought that the only thing important to her was me.

The sky wasn't visible that night. The moon was clothed by thick clouds, light barely bright enough to shine through. I spent that night lingering around the palace, which was unusual for me to do. But my mind was an endless storm of thoughts and my room wasn't big enough to contain my pacing.
I thought about my obligations as a prince- as the future king- I thought about Emmony and how deeply we cared for one another, then I thought about my mother. I thought of all the wrong she'd done to me, all the mistakes she has made.
Who was I going to become?
My thoughts were interrupted by noise coming from the end of the hall, in the throne room. Tempted to leave, I decided against it and silently headed towards the throne room. I stopped at the doors that stood ajar, holding my breath and listening.
A few moments pass and I started to believe that I must have imagined the noise coming from the room. But just as I was about to walk away, I heard a sharp snap followed by a frustrated cry.
Pushing the door open just slightly, I peered in.
In the middle of the room my mother stood surrounded by a circle of sharp ice. She appeared greatly agitated, running her hands through her hair. This was a side of her that she never showed- frustration.
She was muttering to herself so low that even straining, I couldn't hear. She struck out again, hurling an icy chard near the windows. The ice was jagged and broken, something I had never seen her powers be- they were always used so gracefully and elegantly.
Crying out in anguish she paced like a wild animal. I could finally hear what she was saying, but didn't understand the reason behind her distress.
"How could I let this happen. This cannot be the fate I was destined with, no, there simply must be another way."
Striking again, this time closer to the door, I shrunk back, but returned closer again.
"All my work, all of it! In vain! I have built a fool's kingdom."
It was shocking to see her in such a state of frustration and desperation. This must be what she's been so stressed about.
"This kingdom will fall in his hands. My kingdom under his reign!" She lamented. "There must be another way, I could- I must-"
By now I realized she was talking about me. How I would destroy the kingdom if she wasn't here. This caused all the bitter resent to return to me all at once.
"How to stop this fateful occurrence, I have searched through every book, every ancient scroll, requested sorcer-"
Her abrupt pause caused me to return my attention to the door. She stood there, not pacing anymore, simply thinking, lost in her thoughts. I had to strain again to hear what she said next.
"Unless...I could..."
She seemed to have trouble deciding what to do, torn between something.
"He would be- my kingdom wouldn't fall, but it would have no ruler...I could..."
I watched her as she finally shook her head and resumed pacing.
"No, no, I couldn't. But then how?"
I watched and listened to her woes until I felt I had heard enough.
Silently pulling away, I hurried back to my room where I could reflect on what I just witnessed. It would probably be best if I didn't bring it up with her tomorrow.
The only thing certain that I could understand from that was that it pertained to me running the kingdom. She clearly believes I couldn't rule it successfully, which infuriated me, but also confused me. Why was she so anger about that and why has it been on her mind for so long? Did she believe I would steal her crown?
Pacing my room didn't help my mind fully comprehend what she was talking about. I decided to let the issue be. If she wanted to worry herself over foolish beliefs then that was her choice, I wasn't going to stay up and try to find reason with it.
I nearly forgot about the incident until the morning came and I met my mother in the throne room. I was greeted by a frozen throne room covered in much ice.
"What are you doing in here?"
She walked in with a scowl on her face and malice hidden in her voice.
"Coming to find you." I responded calmly. "What happened here?"
"None of your concern." She breezed past me to her throne.
"Are you upset at something mother?"
She gave me a stone cold glare, but strangely that melted away and was replaced by her usual unreadable expression.
"No, dear, nothing at all."
"I should leave." I said turning to go.
"No."
The quickness of it is what stopped me, I looked back at her. She sighed and rubbed her temples.
"Bring out some wine please." She instructed to a nearby guard.
I crossed my arms, suspicious of her strange behavior. She didn't seem to notice my suspicion, though. Instead, she turned her head to stare out the window, but what she said was directed at me.
"I remember being told a fable when I was younger. I found it rather strange back then, but now...now in my mature state I find it to be a wonderful source of wisdom."
She paused as a servant came in to pour some wine. She accepted the drink- as did I- but her gaze was still focused on the window.
"The fable was this: there was a raven who worked hard everyday to provide for himself. This raven had seen the troubles life held and knew if he wanted a better life he would have to work tirelessly to obtain that life. So over the months and years, he sacrificed his time, his energy, his hope all into making a better life for himself. Eventually the bird reached this haven he desired so badly. All his hard work paid off, but he knew he had to keep his wits about him, because as fast as he built this life, it could be swept away even faster."
Her gaze broke away from the window to her cup, where she glanced down at the wine before taking a sip. I usually enjoyed a good drink myself, but today I just held my cup. After her drink she continued, this time looking down at her chalice.
"Then one day a certain crow came by. The crow saw the wonderful life the raven had made for himself and wanted that as well. The raven knew this and told the crow he could show him how to build a life like his. The raven had an open heart, so everyday he would teach the young crow his ways, trusting him more and more."
She stood up, placing her chalice aside, and stepped down from her throne towards me.
"One day, the raven left for a long voyage and left the crow in charge of his possessions. He trusted the crow and had no worries. A few weeks passed and the bird returned. But he was met with nothing to come home to. All his possessions he had stored up throughout the years were all vanished; nothing was left. Shocked and confused, the raven went to his trusted friend, the crow, to discover what had happened. When he asked the crow where all his treasures were, the crow said, 'Your treasures I have not for they are all gone.' The raven could not believe what he was hearing. His trusted friend had betrayed him, selling all his possessions just to obtain a better life for himself- the easy way. That day the raven left sorrowful, now knowing that his faith had been misplaced."
We stood face-to-face, her eyes boring into mine. She was trying to intimate me, but in a different, more subtle way.
"As I said, I found the story to be strange when I was younger, but now I understand it."
Not responding or looking away, I bit my tongue and waited for her to get to the point.
"I don't want to end up a fool, dear, but I'm afraid I will eventually turn out like the raven."
At that point I didn't respond nor did I do anything other than walk away calmly, but inside, my soul was ablaze. I hated her, it was fact I had been suppressing for a long time- she knew and I knew.
I was at the door when she called out to me.
"A king never walks away from the truth."
My temper finally got the better of me. I threw the chalice aside, spilling its contents like watery blood. My hand on the door, I turned around to address her, venom laced in my voice.
"Hypocritical bitch."
It was a choice of words I never would've chosen for any occasion other than that.
She didn't didn't have a chance to respond or react before I stormed out the room. My thoughts were unorganized and I knew I had to get my temper under control.
"She will never be right about me, never."
Suddenly, a familiar, ominous feeling overcame me causing my anger to disperse. It was back again after I had forgotten about it for so long.
The shaking of my hands, my head beginning to throb, pain beginning to spread throughout my body.
I rushed into the nearest room and barricaded myself.
The release wasn't as bad- it never was- as the pain that followed after. It had been so long, though, that the pain felt excruciating as if I had never experienced it before.
"Control. I need to be in control."
As I sat there, still trembling from the force of the release, my mind went back to what my mother had told me before.
"A king never lets his emotions get the better of him."
Well she was right about one thing- I needed to control my emotions or else everything was going to spiral out of control.