“The re-awakening”
Weeks had passed since Prince Manthra had made the Lucian code, law and rule for vampires and other like stellars. However, even after offering them the knee of
submission, he still wasn’t being warmly received by the other warrior priests, most of all, Prince Kur. It appeared that they watched everything Prince Manthra did, always anticipating some sort of act of aggression from him. But there was always nothing.
It seemed that the more he made an effort to warm up to them, the less appreciative they were of the effort. The message was loud and clear: his presence wasn’t wanted, or even needed, here. So much for him had changed, yet, by mere appearance, everything was as it was before attaining the right of Ascension.
After one hundred and twenty-four years, and at the cost of millions of dollars, his efforts simply netted him a seat high above the clouds in isolation. He was hesitant when it came down to using his powers, especially any powers associated with the sword. He sat alone within the court upon his seat of authority. He was just as alone now as before, at least upon the earth he'd had the company of the ever present Mr. Melvin.
However, here, he simply passed what amounted to time, gazing longingly upon the earth as it rotated beneath his feet. Gazing with a secret longing upon a face that an artist's rendering did no justice to. Yet, he had found a confidant in Kabul. Often he would find himself speaking with him about matters that troubled him. Gleaning from his wisdom every ounce of assistance he could possibly use to distill the silent hostility that was brewing amongst the other warriors priests. However, Kabul's advice seemed to hover suspiciously on the edge of defiance.
“Prince Manthra, they may never come to see you as I do. For some, your presence here is a reminder of how limited their ambitions have now become.”
“How so?”
“Since the fall of Prince Billum, many had dreamed of standing in his place as chief warrior priest. But since you possess his sword, the mightiest of them all, such ambitions have been squelched.”
Prince Manthra sighed heavily. “I never intended that there should be such rivalry among us,” he reasoned.
“My prince, it is not you that has precipitated such hostilities. The sword, like any living organism, has birthed its own antagonists, by the mere fact that it exists.”
Manthra slowly looked down upon his sword. He had been naive. Never understanding just how powerful it was and how much that power had been sought after. Kabul inhaled deeply, then blew out slowly. “Ashamedly, your brothers, my prince, are now potentially your foes,” he warned.
“My lord, how do I resolve this matter peacefully?”
Kabul stared up into the house of the warrior priest. “By exercising the spuriousness of your sword with might and power in the presence of your foes; yet demonstrating your willingness for restraint, among your brothers. Unfortunately, your dilemma is that your brothers and foes are one and the same.”
Prince Manthra rubbed the chin of his mask. “I understand how such actions are warranted upon the earth, but couldn’t such actions here be interpreted as aggression?”
“Peaceful hands can never still troubled waters, Prince Manthra. Only an aggressive hand can still the hands that agitate them. You have placed your faith in a code to still the hunger in vampires upon the earth and here, you seek peace among warriors. Will you now seek war among the peaceful?”
“My lord, I do not understand. I thought you appreciated the wisdom of the Lucian code.”
“Indeed, I do! But laws for the lawless will only bring you great frustration.”
