Ageless

Chapter 13

It's funny how humans can abandon all rational thought when faced with a crisis situation. Take me as an example; for the next few agonizing moments after the explosion, I stopped functioning completely.

Chaos had seized the square, that much I knew, but there were too many different stimuli for me to process all at once. Time was speeding up, people were yelling and screaming, bumping and shoving past us from all angles. Everyone was trying to get as far away from the palace steps as possible, yet there I stood, frozen, feeling as far removed from the scene as if I were watching it as a segment on the news. I was still planted on the lawn, but my mind had detached itself from the situation.

My lips parted and I heard myself say the name without thinking, my voice high and brittle, at least an octave higher than my last set of spoken words.

"Malcolm."

Did that really just happen? Is he alright?

The numbness began to fade, and I was overwhelmed with a flurry of sensations.

The scratch of rough fabric rubbing against my bare arm. A thud and a splash. Screams. A flash of light refracting off something shiny. The ring of metal kissing metal.

My mind began to catch up with the rest of the world. Most people were running towards the edges of the square, but not everyone. Concealed guards were emerging from the throngs of the frenzied spectators, tossing away bulky cloaks to reveal chain mail and blades of steel. Even though they were well armored and armed, they all looked terrified.

"They're everywhere!" I heard one shout. "Close your ranks, don't let them get to your King!"

I swiveled my head around to scan the lawn, fear growing from within the pit of my stomach. Who's everywhere?

Then I saw them, and felt blood begin to pump faster through my body, throbbing through my veins and ending in my ears and wrists.

A second group of men was rushing towards the palace, armed with long, thin blades sharp enough to dice vegetables. From my vantage point, they looked to be dispersed evenly among the crowd, linked together by a single iconic piece of clothing: a bright white mask hidden under a dark hood. The masks had faces painted crudely over a clean, bright material that looked as glossy as polished plastic. The painted features were asymmetrical and lacked any semblance of artistic ability, each mask bearing a cartoonishly wide smile in black paint that extended all the way from one end to the other. Above the smile were two splotches of dark brown outlining the mask's eye-holes.

I had not noticed anyone wearing masks during the start of the ceremony, but now there were dozens of them, sprinting towards the palace with weapons held high, slashing out violently at the guards trying to close off the palace steps. The guards far out-numbered their masked men, but the aggressors appeared to only have one goal in mind: to reach the King.

The smoke from the explosion had cleared, and I could once again see the outline of my husband, now lying face down and motionless a few feet away from the altar. I gulped. Get up Malcolm I thought. Please, just get up and get the hell out of here.

The fighting was getting closer, the guards driving the fight backwards towards us. My limbs began to work again, and I realized I could no longer afford to remain standing still.

"Come on Ko'sa!" I yelled. "Let's go!"

No response.

I swiveled around in my spot. "Ko'sa?"

Had she left? I had been standing frozen in my spot longer than most others. She could have bolted back during the explosion.

I yelled louder, feeling the scratch on my vocal chords from the effort. "Ko'sa!"