Kings of Echoes - A Dream SMP Story

I

A throne of gold and emeralds would never disappoint a commoner. The sight of it was always overwhelming, making people sob with wonder. 

Something different could be said of the occupant. They never dressed as formally as past generations, and their appearance was... unsettling. Their majesty did look like a human being: luscious brown hair, light skin, and every other thing a human could have. The only hint of their royal status was the rainbow-encrusted crown and cape. The only exception was their eyes. The milk white holes bore into the souls of subjects, a frightening sight to behold. It frightened anyone who took a single glance at them, a blank stare.

Eret wouldn't give a single thought to their eyes. They didn't care about the opinions of the townspeople. They ignored all accusations from paranoid priests. Indeed, their Highness was resilient. But of course, that did not mean they disregarded them. 

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Eret spun a silver spoon on the arm of their throne, dripping excess tea onto beautiful velvet. A bored expression hung on their bright skin. They tapped their foot impatiently on the red carpet before them, observing the morning shadows of castle falcons outside. But before a thought could be processed into their head, a servant scurried into the room with a small platter. Eret brightened. 

"Yelena!" they exclaimed. "So good to see you! I haven't in a while, huh? Well, perhaps you can stay for a chat, have some tea with me, watch the commanders train the recruits-"

"Your teaspoon, your Highness," muttered Yelena meekly, extending the platter to Eret. Her feet shuffled uneasily at the foot of the throne.

Eret sighed. "Of course... thank you, Yelena." They placed the teaspoon on the platter. "But perhaps-"

Yelena was already hurrying away.

Eret watched her vanish behind the threshold of an entry corridor. Secretly, they wished she would walk back through. Or anyone to walk back through. Eret didn't care, as long as they had company. Company was hard to come by by the likes of them.

They stood up from the throne and walked to entrance of the castle, the throne glittering behind them. Sun flooded their eyes, their hand cover seemingly useless. The stairs and platform leading to the throne room was white stone, a railing running along the side. The castle front was wondrous: small pavilions were scattered among the field, gardens with beds of roses and tulips bloomed in the spring air. Rivers of color snaked through the grass, collecting into multiple ponds. Eret gazed upon it proudly for a moment. The land was all theirs.

Then the feeling faded away. Their subjects cowered before them, raised suspicions of their nature, and barely wanted to make contact with them. Eret's cape, encrusted with multicolored jewels, billowed behind them. What was the point of having an entire kingdom, but the citizens were basically statues? What purpose did training serve if nothing was to be conquered? These thoughts flooded Eret's head constantly, their answers unknown. 

They close their eyes and dreamt. A world where all answers were available, where everyone knew who Eret truly was. But alas, dreams do not always come true.

Raspy cawing filled the air. Eret gazed up into the sky, still blinded by the sun. Suddenly, a sleek bird dove out of the clouds, its large wings extended. The bird tucked its wings and dove towards the castle lawn. Spreading them again, the bird perched on the stone railing before Eret. It chirped happily, familiarizing itself with them. 

Eret peered at the neck of the bird with interest. It carried a leather strap around it with a charm shaped like a totem. The totem was a bright gold, an emerald settled in the center and on its eyes. On the leather strap, odd symbols were engraved. Eret read the symbols before murmuring, "In the end, there is a last hope."

Eret considered this for a moment before grinning. They removed the totem from the bird and flipped it, revealing more symbols inscribed onto the backside. Again, Eret read, "Osprey. Zephyr. Property of FG."

Suddenly, the emeralds of the totem glowed. Zephyr, who was preening his feathers, squawked in alarm and jumped back on the railing. A voice boomed, "Be prepared, old friend. My landing may not be nice." 

Exasperated with their old friend's tricks, Eret allowed Zephyr to perch on their arm and stepped back into the threshold.