Kingdom of Dust
Her eyes flashed like twin candles, flickering in the torchlight.
“You are Reinald, son of Reimund, the King of Astria, and the one they call ‘God Slayer.’”
“Aye, that's me.”
The king wore glittering golden armor, and an ornate sword dangled from his hip. His silk cloak bore the royal sigil—a purple dragon with a falchion between its jaws. A golden crown studded with precious gems rested comfortably on his head. The guards behind him were similarly adorned, and together they made quite the spectacle.
“You come seeking immortality, yes?”
Reinald smiled, his chin held high.
“What would you offer in exchange?”
The king gestured to his guards, and one of them approached her carrying a small bronze statue.
“The false god of the Ephonites, Uzotl.”
“What use would I have for this?” Her pale face betrayed no emotion.
Surprised, Reinald waved the guard back.
“Immortality comes with a heavy price. Great sacrifice will be necessary.”
He thought for a moment, stroking his beard. “The queen is pregnant.”
“You offer your firstborn child?” Her gaze was piercing.
“Well, I can always make another,” Reinald said with a nervous chuckle. “Is it enough?”
She regarded him silently.
The king furrowed his brow. “If it's not enough, I—”
“Remove your crown,” she interrupted.
He hesitated, glancing back at his guards. Slowly, he lifted the symbol of authority from his dark curls and placed it at her feet.
“How is it that you can love this metal more than your own child?”
Reinald glared at her, defiant.
“If you truly wish to be immortal, renounce your claim to the throne. Give the crown to your brother.”
The room was filled with the king's thunderous laughter. “You cannot be serious.”
Silence.
One of the guards shifted uneasily. Reinald found himself reaching for his sword.
“You would raise your weapon against me?” Her tone froze him in place.
The guards exchanged anxious glances, suddenly very warm in their golden armor.
“Leave this place.”
She watched with an unchanging expression as King Reinald retrieved his crown and stormed out, his guards at his heels.
“Will he do it, mother?” A boy materialized beside her.
“No. They never have the stomach to do what must be done.” She let out something like a sigh. “One day the God Slayer's kingdom will return to dust. What use will his crown be then? Man is so easily consumed by his power and his wealth that he becomes blind to the most important thing in this fleeting world.”
“And what is the most important thing?” The child looked up at her.
She smiled wistfully and placed a slender hand on his head. “You will understand someday.”