Kite - Chapter 8: Etched in Stone

Death. Sweet, sweet death. Its siren call sang to me, tried to draw me in during the final days of my short reign as it did to the suffering and the impoverished. There seemed to be no hope. The streets of my city were empty, the stalls and shops with their wares, closed. A fine layer of dust had gathered on the once-gleaming pavement and one step outside made me regret it immediately. Being immortal didn’t mean a lungful of dust wouldn’t send me coughing.

It took the better part of a month before I was convinced filling my lungs with dust wouldn’t do much good for my kingdom. I was often confined to my quarters, trying to think up a way to turn the tables of chance, but to no avail. Even my study was gathering dust, whatever remained of the palace’s servants were either sleeping in their quarters or idly chatting about the days of glory that had passed.

Even the weather was dreary. Rain didn’t come, nor did any wind, but the sky was overcast for most of the time. I was beginning to feel gloomy as well, so it came as a surprise when a soldier burst into my room, panting and said “It.. miracle.. they.. solution! They.. seek.. audience.. king!”



“Catch your breath, soldier, tell me what this miracle and audience you speak of is about” I said, barely able to contain my own excitement. I had made out enough of what he had said to have an idea of what was going on. I hoped against all hope that the solution had indeed been found.

“Yes your majesty” replied the soldier, quickly running out of breath again. “They’ve found a solution to our ‘predicament’ and wish to present it to you my liege. They request an audience at once” he continued with a small smile, catching the apparent irony in the request.

“They request an audience, yet expect it at once…” I trailed off, amused. “That sounds more like an order, as if they were exploiting my weakening grip over the kindred. If I am to start regaining my authority, I better start now. Lead me to these ‘miracle workers’ but make sure to do it slowly” I continued, unable to contain the grin on my face. The soldier was smiling too and his eyes carried a sparkle that I had not seen in some time, they had a glimmer of hope in them. Hope that a gruesome primal need was about to be satiated.

The soldier, who I hadn’t noticed had sank to his knees in courtesy rose to his feet and pushed open the door. The walk down the hall was the most uncomfortable one I’ve had in years. Servants were peeking from the corners at the two of us. If there was one thing I knew about palaces, it was that news spread like wildfire in the servants’ quarters.

As the soldier opened the doors to the audience chamber, a strange mix of anxiety, concern and happiness rose in my gut. Just before I crossed the threshold, another feeling came into the mix. It was a feeling of wrongness and my hair stood as I realized that I had not seen the soldier’s face. Nor did I remember any soldiers on palace ground. It wiped the smile off my face and when I saw the four who requested audience. They wore heavy cloaks, yet the pendants they wore signalled exactly who they were. They were the most influential people in the factions. Two from each.

“What trickery is this?” I demanded. A heavy force pulled me in and shut the door behind me. The soldier’s armor crumpled down to the ground, empty save for white sand. “I demand that you explain!”

As one, the four threw back their hoods, and I felt my jaw clamp shut. Their hair was bleached whiter than snow and their eyes were lit with an insane fire, reddish and bloodshot. Their faces, even their arms were gray, pebbled and flaky. Their faces looked as though they were etched in stone.