Fa'Teke Stories - Day of Fate

Day of Fate
A Fa’Teke Story

by Matthew Reed

King Eb’Tere sat in his personal chambers while L’Cey brushed at his royal robe. The reflection he was confronted with was not the normally self-possessed and proud image of a King but one of frown and worry worthy only of a weakling afraid to face his destiny. King Eb’Tere was anything but a weakling.

“Tell me L’Cey,” the King began, “Am I the only departing monarch to feel such a loss?”

L’Cey paused in her brushing to consider the question.

“No, not at all my King. Some go happily, glad to be rid of the responsibility and ready to rejoin their own lives, and some go with regret. Whether that regret is for things not accomplished, or for having to leave the luxury and power of office I cannot always say. But each handles it in their own way.”

“I have accomplished much in my reign. Yet I feel a sense of loss I cannot explain when I think of leaving here tomorrow.” the frown on his face grew deeper.

“My King, may I speak freely?”

“Of course L’Cey, you have been my closest friend over the last ten turns. You can tell me anything.”

“I have lived and worked in this castle for over fifty turns now. That means I have seen five monarchs come and go. I have cared for all of them in their own special way, but none have been as dear to my heart as you.”

L’Cey stepped around in front of the King and sat on the edge of his bed.

“Of those monarchs that I have served with, none has faced adversity and strife with half the courage, honesty and compassion that you have. When Duke Riverside’s son disappeared into the Mountains of D’Aath why you hopped onto your horse and raced off to be with him while the search continued. Any of the others would have sent a note of sympathy. When Ra’Skeen valley was threatening war on Port Ma’Tok you marched right into the middle of it without so much as a personal guard. When I think how easily we could have lost you that day I still shudder. But when you marched back out again peace prevailed and the two towns are still each others best friends.”

L’Cey paused and seemed to consider her feet for a moment.

“Last night I cried at the thought of losing you. I haven’t cried in years. I had to get up and fix some milk. I realized that as much as I loved you I was not crying so much for my loss as I was for Fa’Teke’s loss. You have been the best monarch we’ve had in over 500 turns, and I don’t say that lightly.”

King Eb’Tere smiled  at his dear friend and took her hand.

“Tonight, after the lottery has been drawn and the name sent out I will seek out your face among the crowd and I will smile just for you. Then tomorrow, I will gather my wits, and my things and I shall leave for Ra’Lam valley with the same sense of purpose as when I left there to come here. Thank you L’Cey for helping me find the light again.”

The King’s reflection had returned to that which he expected.

-------- 

“In all the history of Fa’Teke, not once has a Ba’Keel worshiper been chosen during the lottery. Not once. Not even when Ba’Keel worship was sanctioned. Always our numbers have been so small that our odds of being picked have been slim. What makes you think that it will be any different tonight Sa’Teel?”

“I don’t know, but somehow I ‘feel’ that it will be so. Let me ask you, Ja’Kim, have you noticed anything odd, or out of the ordinary about yourself lately?”

Ja’Kim had known Sa’Teel far too long to think this question anything less than serious so he considered it with all seriousness before replying.

“Not that I can put a finger on, but I have felt, I don’t know, stronger? Clearer of thought? That is the best I can say, why do you ask?”

Hesitancy rippled through Sa’Teel’s feature. Ever since she was captured and beaten almost to death Sa’Teel had been so much more introspective. Most thought it a side effect of the beating but Ja’Kim knew it to be more. Guilt was a heavy burden and Sa’Teel carried the death of her long-time friend Z’Ack around her neck like a priceless artifact. Never mind that he would have turned her into the King’s Guard. Never mind that she would have been put to sea for the crime of worshiping Ba’Keel. And never mind that his Ka’Rul find was larger than even he had suspected and would save the lives of many. The fact that he had to be dealt with was irrelevant. She had killed her friend and she did not take that responsibility lightly. It was one of the reasons Ja’Kim liked her so much.

“A week before our ceremony was found and I was beaten I had a dream about Z’Ack. In that dream he was wearing a Ka’Rul encrusted royal robe. He bent to speak to me and died in my lap. I awoke knowing that somehow I had killed him. I also knew that it was more than just a dream. It didn’t have the texture or feel of a dream. It was so much more vivid, and I could smell my surroundings in the dream. I’ve never done that before.”

“Dreams can be messengers of the future I think. I’ve never had one, but I know of others who claim to.”

“Well, last night I ‘dreamed’ again. I was standing before the Great Cauldron on Lottery night. Throngs of people cheering me on to draw the tile. I reached into the Cauldron and withdrew a single tile, in the dream the tile was dripping with blood, as I turned it over I saw that my name was on it.”

“And this dream had the same feel to it?”

“No actually, it was much stronger and more real than the one before it. I could hear the murmur of the crowd and actually make out individual conversations going on around me. I could feel the breeze as it pulled at my hair, and smell the torches burning behind me. So real.”

Sa’Teel certainly looked frightened of this dream. And if Sa’Teel was frightened then the rest of them should be terrified.

“It’s the bloody tile the worry’s me Ja’Kim. What could that mean? In Z’Ack’s dream the Ka’Rul robe was obviously in reference to his finding that Ka’Rul deposit, but I can’t put a meaning to the bloody tile.”

“Who knows, I think it best not to worry it. Let each day come as it may and deal with its adventures when it is time to deal with them.”

“Yes, I suppose you are right. But it troubles me still.”

-------

Ga’Lan, basked in the warmth of the mid-day sun pondering his own reality; as of two months ago his name had been placed in the Great Cauldron. Reality was that by the end of this night he might, possibly, just maybe be called to do his service for Fa’Teke. Imagine what a thrill, to be only 18 turns old and the chosen ruler of the entire world! Only twice in Fa’Teke’s history had such a young person been chosen.

Secretly, deep down inside Ga’Lan knew it was meant for him. The monarchy. Leadership. Power. After all Sorilla had bestowed on him a gift so great that others would bow down before him should he reveal it. Surely that gift had a purpose and a meaning. For Ga’Lan that purpose was to rule Fa’Teke, and not for ten years either. For life!

Ga’Lan had first become aware of his ‘gift’ shortly after his sixteenth turn. He had been climbing a large tree trying to retrieve his Taj’ ball when the limb he was standing on broke. Ordinarily a fall from such a height would have broken many bones at the least, even killed him if he landed wrong.

As he fell through the tree his fear took hold of him and he felt a warm glow of heat centered in his chest. As that glow had grown his fall had slowed. By the time he reached the ground his fall was so slow that he was able to turn himself around and land lightly on his feet.

He was totally amazed. And there had been no one to witness this miracle.  Somehow Ga’Lan had known to keep it to himself.

That Sorilla must have plans for him, to save his life that way.

Then not more than a cycle later his best friend, Ja’Ach had been mortally wounded during their Taj’ ball game. Most everyone nearby had heard the snap of his neck as he hit the ground but Ga’Lan had been the first to reach him.

As before his fear was palpable, but this time it was his fear for his friend.

When he reached Ja’Ach he fell to his knees and grabbed him by the shoulders. Instantly, in his brain, he saw the fracture in Ja’Ach’s neck. Certain of his death Ga’Lan began to weep.

That’s when the heat began in his chest. Before his eyes his hands began to glow a very subtle red. By the time the rest of the team reached him Ga’Lan was panting from exertion and Ja’Ach was sitting up with a puzzled grin on his face, as if he was wondering how he had gotten there.

He was fine. No fracture, not even a bruise. Everyone else just assumed that his fall had not been as bad as it had looked and praised Sorilla that he had not been injured.

Ga’Lan knew the truth. He had healed him.

Over the last few years Ga’Lan had been experimenting with his new found gift and learned how to use it at will. The gift to protect and heal could only come from Sorilla. And it would only come with a purpose.

As a cloud lazily swam across the face of the sun Ga’Lan smiled and tried to imagine how it would feel to have the crown placed upon his head.

-------

The preparations for the Lottery were done. All was ready and the crowd was gathering. Within hours of the drawing every village and town in Fa’Teke would know the name of the new monarch. It would travel across the continent at the speed of light.

King Eb’Tere gathered his robe about him, straightened his crown and gazed out at the gathering throng. There was no more exciting time on Fa’Teke than the Lottery. This was the only time where every village and town felt a part of the whole. The knowledge that with the passing hand of fate their lives could be forever changed.

The King remembered the last lottery well. He had made the journey from his home town so that he could witness the coronation of a new monarch. So that he could say he was there when so and so was chosen to fulfil their service. The anticipation that night had been almost unbearable. Never once had he considered that his name might be drawn. He was a simple farmer and had harbored no desire to rule.

The time came and King Ra’Foil stepped forward, gave a short speech about his time as King and then to a great fanfare plunged his hand into the cauldron drawing forth a single tile.

Each person on Fa’Teke knew what that tile looked and felt like. At their 18^th turning they were responsible for preparing their own tile and sending it on to the Palace. It was a great ceremony that each child looked forward to with a passion. It was a right of passage so to speak. The coming of adult hood and responsibility.

When King Ra’Foil read the name out loud Eb’Tere had cheered along with the rest of the throng. As the crowd died down again the King had said, “And now let the word spread across this great land of ours, let Eb’Tere come forward and accept his service in all honor and with all speed!”

Once again the crowd cheered and began stomping their feet in tandem.  Eb’Tere had cheered and stomped along with them. Whoever this Eb’Tere was he was sure to be a great King!

Slowly reality began to settle in. His clapping slowed and stopped. His Stomping stopped also. He stared out at the Palace with a blank look on his face.

Someone nearby took him by the shoulder and asked, “Are you well friend? You look sick.”

“Tell me, what name did he call?”

“Why Eb’Tere, weren’t you listening. Whoever he is I would love to see the look on his face when he hears the news. I imagine it to be a lot like the look on your face right now. Wait a minute, what is your name?”

“Eb’Tere.” he had replied.

The stranger began to smile wildly and began grabbing anyone withing reach and pointing Eb’Tere out. “Its him! Look everyone! Its him! He’s right here!”

Within moments he had been patted and kissed by women and pushed up to the front of the crowd right below the Great Cauldron. King Ra’Foil had looked down on him and asked his name.                         

The rest was a blur. As is the custom of Fa’Teke once the chosen one has reached the Palace the coronation must be completed within a day. By the end of the next day he had been crowned King and was spending his first night in the Royal Palace.

The passing years had been good ones, no doubt. But it was time to move on. To go back home and pick up his old life. To once again feel the ground yield beneath his plow. Gathering his strength and his poise the King stepped out onto the stage before the Great Cauldron and raised his arms as the crowd cheered.

“Today I say goodbye to the life of royalty. Today I say goodbye to my duty. Today we will choose the future of Fa’Teke. The past ten years have been good ones both for me and for Fa’Teke as a whole. And I stand before you now with the certain knowledge that Sorilla will guide my hand and choose a King or Queen worthy of service to Fa’Teke. As you all know by now I’m not one given to lengthy speeches, so on with it I say!”

The crowd roared its approval at his short speech and began to stomp in unison.

Gathering his sleeve the King plunged his hand into the Great Cauldron and with a silent prayer to Sorilla grasped a single tile in his fist.

The End