Kings of Echoes - A Dream SMP Story

XV - A Fool's Interlude

Life had begun to go by at a steady pace. They would wake up alone, unknowing of the hours they'd have to waste. They would meander around and have an occasional talk with Emiror. They would visit the library, scanning through books without knowing a single thing about what they were about. Sometimes he'd catch them tending to their wounds. Then they'd return to their room and fall asleep as if nothing was wrong with them at all.

At least, that was the routine that Foolish memorized.

He always woke up before Eret and left them in the room. He'd go out and take a swim in a river running through the forest. He too would go to the library, but always remained out of sight. He practiced his powers throughout the day, lifting water into his hands and watching it turn and shift. He spent his hours alone most of the time. Running into either of the royal siblings was a treat, and he'd spend what he could with them.

Avoiding Eret was hard. At times, he wanted to dump water on the young monarch's head and laugh as they startled awake. He wanted to run up to them in the library and show them the new book they found. He wanted to report any discoveries about their powers to them.

But he couldn't, and he didn't. He felt guilty, but he held his pride high like a trophy. Trying to make advances on their friendship would be like accepting defeat. And he wouldn't accept defeat on such a low level. He was a demigod of the oceans and the skies, and right now a storm brewed. It climbed higher and higher until it clouded his sense of forgiveness and understanding. He wanted to be right.

Well, until the third night.

The next morning, Foolish remembered it as if it was a photograph. Caught in the moment, pressed into his head.

Eret woke up screaming. They held their head, shooting up from their pillow. Sweat beaded their neck and face as they held their blanket close. They shivered and breathed like they'd drowned.

He had confronted them about it. They dismissed it, waving their hand and telling him to go back to sleep. He submitted, but not without sending one more foul word their way.

Then they started yelling again. They bit at each other, two lions that fought for dominance. He called them reckless. They called him entitled. They went on with their back-and-forth until Foolish forgot why he wanted to feel concerned. They attacked and snarled as if they were never friends in the first place.

And then Eret clawed and scratched until blood drew.

Because I'm such a bad king, right?

Foolish couldn't remember his exact words from the first night they fought. He did remember, however, saying that.

He thought they wouldn't remember his words. If not, then he hoped they would ignore it. After all, he was a drunken mess and they were a lost runaway. The words spat between each other shouldn't have meant a single thing.

But it did. They might have left each other numb and bloody, but Foolish was the one who left a scar. A noticeable one, at least.

It hurt him more than it should have. For once, his guilt shadowed his pride.

And that's why he sat across from King Calix, a steak and a wine in front of him. Chefs' efforts echoed from the kitchen. They spilled small appetizers and platters onto the table, flooding it with food. The golden beams of the dining hall glittered over each plate. The gentle chime of the chandelier set a calming atmosphere to the hall, much unlike the storm in his head. The large window wall overlooking the kingdom sparkled, the citizens hard at work. Fairies zipped across the sky in iridescent patterns, their cheeks flushed with mirth and joy.