To Claim A Crown Book One: The Half-Blood King (Complete)

2.

Raurlin pushes the door open and steps onto the gravel. There's a short pathway leading to the enormous wooden front door. Raurlin and Jackson walk briskly to the front door and as Raurlin raises his hand to knock the door swings open. Lyjil stands at the entrance with his arm crossed and a clipboard tight against his chest. He looks from Raurlin to Jackson and sighs exasperated.

"Well are you going to come in or just stand there like you actually missed me?"

Raurlin takes a step forward and Jackson quickly grabs his arm. Lyjil rolls his eyes and walks into the foyer of the building muttering, "what, are we about to hug? Foolish boy."

The grip around Raurlins arm tightens then loosens completely. Jackson taps Raurlin on the back as to usher him into the foyer. Raurlin exhales his nose flaring then walks after Lyjil to a small reception area. There's a new receptionist typing away at a computer. She has large wispy hair cascading around her head and neck. She looks up at Raurlin and Jackson with an easy smile.

"His Majesty is ready for them."

Lyjil rests against the counter behind which the receptionist is sitting and responds "thank you, Jaime." Lyjil pulls a cell phone out his pocket and begins scrolling through it, uninterested. He points to a set of elevators and Raurlin and Jackson walk towards them. Jackson reaches forward and presses the upward facing arrow. The doors open with a ding.

They step into the elevator and the doors shut. The elevator slowly starts moving upward. There's a camera on the top right hand corner pointed directly at them. Raurlin glances up at the camera then looks back at the door. He turns slightly to where Jackson is standing.

"I swear one day I'm going to fling his bony body right into that ridiculous door."

Jackson laughs, "I would pay to see you try. Do you even know how old he is? He's prehistoric."

Despite his efforts not to, Raurlin cracks a small smile and as he does the doors slide open with a loud 'ding'. The smile is immediately replaced with a straight face. The doors open to a large office with an expansive array of windows taking up the majority of the wall to the right. There's a bear skin rug with the head attached and facing elevator doors. The carpet leads to a large mahogany table where an even larger man sits on an office chair.

The king leans back in his chair, his fingers intertwined over his belly. From behind his spectacles he watches as his guests walk into his office. He runs a finger over his knuckles and remains silent. Jackson is the first out of the elevator. He steps onto the middle of the rug and bows low. "Your Majesty."

The king nods at him and he straightens. Raurlin steps to beside Jackson and with a slow nod of his head says "Stellan." The king returns the nod and motions to two chairs in front of the desk. Raurlin and Jackson sit.

"Gentlemen. Firstly thank you for gracing me with your presence. It seems you two have become quite unreachable. Now tell me, why do you think, as a species, we cling to our tradition? Raurlin?"

Raurlin shrugs and says nothing.

"Because, gentlemen, that is how we maintain balance. What do you think would happen if I were to decide today I no longer want to be King? Jackson?"

"Chaos" Jackson responds.

"Exactly!" The king rises out of his chair he towers over Raurlin and Jackson, a long braid hanging down his spine. He rubs at his impressive pitch black beard. The beard is speckled with grey hair. The king continues "we need hierarchy because hierarchy breeds order. We might not be living through the Great War anymore but gentlemen every day as a species we fight a war. An endless war. A war with each other, other species, ourselves. A war with nature."

Raurlin shifts in his chair.

"What is it Raurlin? Speak up!"

"We're at war, constantly, and with nature, because we're not natural. Our existence isn't-"

"It isn't natural by human order? By order of some other species? You will never again utter such words in my presence Raurlin."

Raurlin slumps in his chair knowing his words are close to treason. He often struggled with the concept of his existence. His father always scolded him about it. And after his father, Stellan did. Before he was king and even now during his reign.

"I know you have internalised the struggle with accepting who you are. I'm sorry for snapping at you. How is your father, Raurlin?" The king sits back down in his chair.

"I don't know, your majesty. We're not exactly on speaking terms."

The king strokes his beard again, "you need to see him. I understand the Illness has progressed. He won't be of sound mind for much longer. I didn't summon you here to push you to claim the throne as is your right, Raurlin, please go and visit your father. I will give you a fortnight before I make an order."

An uneasy feeling creeps through Raurlins being.

"How long does he have?"

The king takes his glasses off and rubs his eyes.

"A month, Raurlin. I'm sorry."

Jacksn leans over and places a hand gently on Raurlin's shoulder. Raurlin's head drops slightly. The king once again rises out of his chair. He walks around the table and stands beside Raurlin. Raurlin stands up and Stellan embraces him in a big hug. Raurlin fails at holding a sob in.

The Illness, set in place by ancient magick, was aimed at creating balance for the vampire race. The Illness first attacks the body. First it comes in small waves, causing ticks, shakes, joint pain and weakness. In extreme cases the victim to the Illness would lose their eyesight or hearing. The Illness in its final stage attacks the mind and cognitive function, first the dementia then the delirium sets in. In most cases the victim to the Illness had to be put down because they oftentimes attacked others but in extreme cases would severely hurt themselves.

Stellan releases Raurlin, his large hands clasping his upper arms. Stellan looks deep into Raurlin's eyes. The hazel eyes with the golden halo are misty and intense. Stellan leans forward, his forehead touching Raurlin's briefly, a sign of brotherhood and respect. Jackson stands up and takes a step back, floored at the gesture.

"I know he isn't an easy man Raur, and I wish I could have done more in your youth. But now please go and see him, make peace with your past and with him. The Gods won't accept him if he has unfinished earthly business. Don't prevent his entrance to the Great After." Stellan releases Raurlin and points to the elevator, "please give me a moment alone with Jackson."

Raurlin makes for the lift a large lump sitting tightly in his throat. He wanted to hate his father for as long as he could remember but he never could, and now knowing where the Illness will take him Raurlin feels rage, a burning rage, and complete helplessness.

The king waits for the elevator to ding on the ground floor before he sits back down in his chair. Jackson remains standing a sense of urgency and helplessness devouring him all at one go. He tries to steady his breathing.

"Keep a close eye on him Jax. There's something different about him."

"He's father is dying, your majesty of course he's different."

The king strokes his beard almost amused by the response.

"Brothers in arms. Don't tell me you've grown so close you can't tell that he smells different. I smelt it the second you drove in. Things are going to make a drastic turn soon. Be present Jax. Oh and please by the Gods, you may call me Stellan. You did too once at a stage."