Avalon: The Six Keys of Destruction

Chapter VII: The Amiable Festival

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      'No! It couldn't be.' Arkadian couldn't sleep at all that night as he clutched his head as the memories of that night that he thought he buried deep into his subconscious, surged to the surface flooding his mind, drowning his consciousness with visions of that horrific night.

      'That's not true,' however, no matter how much he wished for a different outcome of the memory of the meaning to alter, the result remained the same. That night, when the assassin came; the search, the conflict, the battle—it all pointed to a failed assassination attempt. The attempt was loud, chaotic, and reckless unbefitting of an assassin because the death of the king was never the true objective.

      It was him.

      That night, he was the target and his father knew it. That's why he had hidden Arkadian away when he confronted the assailant, why he prolonged the battle to await reinforcements, why endured the torture and remained silent, why he fought to his last breath.

      It was meant to be him who died that night, not the King. His father died because of him. Arkadian was trying his best to drown out the voice in his head, but it only kept getting louder and louder. Whispering.

      'He died because you were weak. You hid like a little coward instead of fighting like a noble prince.'

      "No...no...no...you're wrong!" Arkadian muttered to himself, "I'm not weak! I'm not a coward."

      'Yet, you did nothing. It was supposed to be you...not him. You killed your father.'

      "Stop!" Arkadian yelled into in pillow fighting back his tears "Stop talking! I did what I had to do! I did what I was told. I hid because it was the best course of action!"

      'Best?' the voice scoffed, 'Is that what you call that? Your best? Pathetic.' the voice chided 'You're pathetic.'

      "Shut up. Shut up! I am the rightful prince! I am the Golden Son of Aurum!" Arkadian glared at his mirror, his puffy eyes returning his gaze menacingly. "You're nothing but a stupid voice in my head."

      'The Golden Son?' The voice's silkness eased its way deeper into Arkadian's mind, 'Then why are you so dim?'

      "SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Arkadian let out an anguished scream as he threw his dagger at the mirror, shattering it into thousands of pieces. His anguish reverberated throughout his body and echoed within his chambers as the realization of that night haunted him. It was a losing battle between himself and that voice. The voice of shame and self-blame. The mental struggle within him was consuming and drowning him in guilt, regret, and anger.

      "Why?" Arkadian sobbed out, hot tears streaming down, saturating the silk covers with deep blue. "Am I even worth it?" Wouldn't have been better if it was he who died that night. Aurum wouldn't be in a state of turmoil if it were him. The weight of thoughts was suffocating him. He needed to escape his mind before it became too much for him to handle before it overwhelmed him completely.

      He needs to distract himself. He needed to move, to do something—anything. 

      His wet tears cast over towards the open window, hoping that the golden tips of the rising sun could offer a glimpse of relief. The thin mist created by the surrounding waterfall cast a canvas of red and yellow hue through the morning sky. It was a breathtaking sight, a serene scenery that reminded Arkadian when he first discovered this magical morning moment.

      "Dad, why are we waking up so early?"

      "Remember I told you, I'll show you a magical view if you can wake up early for it." His father chuckled as he picked up a sleepy Arkadian and headed towards the window. "Did you know my little sun, that the water of Argine holds memories? Our ancestors' wisdom and courage surround us, giving us the strength to lead our people. So if you ever need a little courage call for it."