88 GATES-Return of the Fallen

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“I need time for myself,” the queen mumbled, unfaced. In no time no guards could already be seen inside the hall. Arkia stood up from her throne, gazing at somewhere far. She was thinking deeply. Events happened so fast she could not decide directly. The king was already dead, now, their eldest son was demanding himself to be the new king. Of course, she wanted a new king but surely, she wouldn’t let Ordon be. He was uncultured. How could a man who only thought of oneself be a good king?

     Arkia sighed softly. Her beautiful shoulder-length curly reddish brown hair; a crown with red gems; and an ankle-length dark green gown didn’t match her weary face. She had decided. It was Lenron, the second son, who would carry out the ruling. But she feared Ordon might rebelled. Moreover, her other sons and daughters had demanded the same position. If she were to crown Lenron, she would have to atleast give presents to the others. A gift. Of course, a gift. She would give them something that would somehow ease their jealousy.

     Arkia walked through a few steps, walked a little towards the huge closed door before stopping. She was thingking deeply. She wanted her gift to be special. What would it be?

     Now, she was pacing back and forth, situating her pointfinger’s nail in between her teeth. And then, after a few minutes, she stopped, removed her nail from her teeth. She found a great idea. If it happened, not only that her sons and daughters would have glory but her name would be known in the history of Zoidion.

     She’d made up her mind, she breathed roughly. Now, Arkia extended her left hand forward. Her nimbus spiraled into her hand. In less time, a peculiar golden key―with silver ornaments and a strange, not known symbol―appeared in her hand. She breathed before mouthing a word.

     “Gate of the Spirit of the Universe . . .” a white magic circle with complicated ornaments showed up from the tip of the key. “I open thee . . .” she paused, as the magic circle was enlarging. “Gretie!”

     Unlike any other, tings could be heard continually. As it happened, the magic circle dramatically vanished while the Celestial she called showed up. Arkia bowed her head. If she were just a mere Zoidian she could have knelt down in the Celestial’s presence.

     “You called me.” His white waist-length wavy hair matched with the wrinkles on his face. His wizard-like robe was white with vertical golden ornaments from his neck to his feet. He stood tall with glory, emitting nimbus around him. He stood still with glory wearing an unknown symbol on his forehead. He was old, with tan skin and white brows, beard and body hairs. When Arkia already lifted her head, he reminded her, “You called me, Arkia.” His low, indolent hoarse voice was demanding.

     “I have something to tell you, Gretie,” Arkia stuttered on the words but managed to repeat it clearly for the Celestial’s sake.

     “About your sons and daughters,” Gretie quickly retorted. And when he saw how Arkia’s eyes widened, he said, “You wanted to give them presents, don’t you?”

     Arkia couldn’t find the words to tell for a while. She was still amazed yet gained anxiety when the Celestial mentioned his sons and daughters. She calmed herself. Of course the Celestial would know what she wanted. He was the Spirit of the Universe, the Heavenly Creator of Zoidion. Nothing unseen and unheard when it comes to him. “Yes,” she agreed. “My princes and princesses are . . . are surprisingly demanding to rule Zoidion. I am afraid I could only anoint one individual for that. I wish I could give them something worthy instead of the throne.”