Chapter 2: Death of the Greats

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The King had died during his sleep in the middle of the night. I remember that night, Caspian and I happened to be out with Professor on a camping trip. We had learned how to start a fire and hunt for food. The night Caspian’s father died, we were laying on our backs watching the stars, having Professor tell us about the different constellations. We had no idea of anything else going on in the world.

When we returned that morning, we received the news that the King was dead.

I have seen many deaths in my long life. Many of my loved ones and dear friends have died. Some have died at my hand. But I can never explain what death does to a person. What it does to those it leaves behind.

I had lost my mother at a young age. I barely even remember her. She was a medicine woman and passed on her remedies to me, which I still dabble with today. But she was dead. No matter what remedy I could conjure up or how many times I memorized her book of remedies, I could not bring her back. It was hard to not have a mother, but it was even harder for my father to be without her. I remember he would wander in the garden for hours by himself, sometimes speaking to her as though she was there with him. Death affects its victims different ways.

For Caspian, the death of his father was almost too much for him. He was a young boy, so he did not fully understand. But it was as if he withdrew from the world. His body was there physically, but his true self was somewhere in the depths of his mind, trying to figure out how to function without his father. Caspian wasn't the same after his father died, and, as much as I tried, the Caspian that I knew and grew up with, didn't resurface until many, many years later.

The King’s brother, Lord Miraz, volunteered to take over the throne. But Caspian was the next closest heir. Of course, he was too young to become King at that time, so Telmar’s council, which included my father and Miraz, became the leaders of Telmar. They would rule the land until Caspian came of age. Until then, my father volunteered to take Caspian in, promising to give him a good and stable home until his coronation day.

Unfortunately, my father’s duties as a council member and a general increased and I rarely saw him. He hardly ever had time to give me sword lessons or to even eat dinner with me. I became closer to Professor during that time, desperately wanting a father figure in my life. Caspian still grieved for his father, but we still remained friends. We hardly ever pulled pranks on the staff again.

As the years passed, my father began to grow ill. Using the knowledge of medicine my mother passed down to me, I did my best to take care of him. But the fact remained that he was too busy for his age and his health was failing him.

The day my father died was a day I will never forget.

His illness had made him bedridden, and I had stayed by his side. I conjured up every healing remedy in my mother’s book, even some that I would make up. However, none prevailed.He spent most of his days sleeping. There was one day in particular that was the worst, his last day. Caspian and I were sitting by his bedside, hoping and praying to the stars he would get better.

“You should get some rest.” Caspian said, placing a hand on my shoulder.

I shook my head firmly. “I am not leaving him.”

“I will look after him. You haven’t slept in days. You need your rest.” He persisted.

“I said, I am not leaving my father, Caspian.” I snapped. I never meant to be mean to him. But my father was dying, I knew that. And I could never live with myself if he had passed and I was not there with him.

Suddenly, my father awoke with a gasp, which startled Caspian and I. “Aurina.” He croaked. His throat was dry so I reached for the cup of water by his bed and placed the edge gently between his lips. He drank it hungrily, as if he had been wondering through a desert for many months.

“Slower, Father.” I urged him. “You must drink slowly.”

Once he finished it, he sighed and put his head back. “My little wild flower,” He said, reaching for my hand, which I extended to him. “I am so sorry.”

Tears stung my eyes, but I did not permit them to fall. “For what, Father?” I asked.

“That I could not live to see my grandchildren.” He clutched my hand tightly.

“Do not say that, Father.” I told him. “You will be alright. You just need your rest.”

“Caspian.” He called. Caspian came to my father and held his clammy hands. “I am sorry that I could not save your father.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, Philipanol.” He assured him. “You have been very kind to me, both you and Aurina. And I thank you for that.”

I gave Caspian a look. I did not want my father to keep thinking he was going to die. And I didn’t want to think about it either. “My children,” He said, clutching our hands even tighter. “I want to know that you two will be alright. That you will both be happy and safe.”

“We will, Father.” I nodded. “Now, get some sleep.”

“No!” My father commanded. “No, I want you to make sure that each of you will be happy. I want you to look out for each other. To love each other, even when no one else will.”

“What are you saying?” Caspian asked. But something told me that he already knew that answer.

My father put our hands together so that Caspian and I were holding hands, with my father’s hands wrapped tightly around them. “I want you to promise me that you two will marry.”

Caspian and I exchanged looks. Marry? We were only friends, practically family. I had never once thought of him as a future husband. And anyway, I was not ready to marry anyone. But then we both looked down at my father, who had so much hope in his weak brown eyes that we could hardly refuse him.

“I promise,” Caspian stated, looking at me. “That Aurina and I will marry, as soon as I am King.”

I looked at Caspian and back at my father. He looked as though he was near tears, as was I. My eyes met Caspian’s again. “And I promise that I will marry Caspian when he is King.”

We held this gaze, both wishing that this wasn’t happening. Soon, we noticed my father’s grip weakening. When I turned to look at my father, his face was completely white. “My wild flower,” he whispered weakly. Then, he exhaled loudly, but he did not inhale. My father, the Great General Philipanol of Telmar, had breathed his last, leaving me and Caspian to weep over his feeble body.

Tyranny of the HeartOnde as histórias ganham vida. Descobre agora