Chapter 13: Malachi

  "Am I dead?"

  The young prince spoke in a hushed tone; he was alone yet feared to speak with volume. He did not know it, but he was in the inspection room, which he knew very well. His vision was too blurred to make out his surroundings, and beyond the bright light that shines above him, he did not know what had become of him.

  He remembered battle, an assassin grabbing him and burning a hole through his stomach. A hole that still remained, and a hole that still burned. Malachi could feel the demonfire ripping through his very being, and here he was in the most intense pain he had ever been in his life.

  He then heard a door open, and soon he heard a familiar voice.

  "By the aeons, your eyes are open." The voice said. Malachi's ears felt clogged; he could barely make out who was speaking. He knew it was a man, but which man was not clear.

  'Come on, look.' Malachi thought to himself. He put through a great deal of effort to turn his head to make out the figure to no avail.

  The figure stepped outside, and with him came two others. Malachi could make our blue lights from their veins, and he felt a rush of calm come over him. He knew those two lights had to be his brother and Jacob, and if they weren't alarmed by the mysterious man, then he didn't need to be alarmed either.

  The two glowing men walked towards Malachi with great haste and hovered over him curiously. They smiled brightly, and then Malachi felt a hand on his head.

  "Can you hear us, Malachi?" One of them said. It was Jacob; Malachi could hear the age in his voice. Malachi had always thought that the old knight sounded like a croaking frog when he spoke.

  Malachi found the energy to force a smile, and Jacob began to laugh heartily.

  "Thank the gods and aeons above. Ave Malachi. I prayed you would wake, and the gods have answered my blessing. Young prince, you have a visitor."

  At the word 'visitor' Orin scratched at his forehead pensively and looked back at the non-glowing man before whispering in Malachi's ear.

  "Uncle Erwin is here." Said Jacob.

  'Uncle Erwin. Why is he here?' Thought Malachi. He could already feel himself being annoyed, even though his uncle had yet to say a single word.

  "Can he go?" Malachi said, this time speaking not nearly as hushed as he was before.

  His uncle entered the room with his arms crossed. "Is that any way to greet your own blood? I wanted to see my nephew recover from his wounds, and these are the thanks I get."

  Malachi found the strength to sit up from his bed, his vision still blurry and his head aching from the trauma he had gone through.

  His uncle looked at Malachi's face and then at his wounded stomach, a burning hole that flickered with black flames.

  "Ah, I did not realize how bad your injuries were, Kai. What a shame someone tried to harm our new heir. I mean, I know your dad is religious and all, but I never thought you'd end up being holey."

  There was a silence.

  "Eh, tough crowd. Anyway, let's be happy; it's a hospital bed and not a casket." Continued Erwin. "Aeons know we've seen too many of those lately."

  Jacob nodded in agreement. "Do you think you're good to be on your feet, Malachi?"

  Malachi could barely feel his feet, and there was no strength in his legs to feel. He shook his head at Jacob.

  "Then I will find you a wheelchair. You are needed elsewhere. I understand you are still healing, but we need to investigate your wound further." Said Jacob.

  "You will have two knights of Aeon marching with you, Malachi." Added Orin.

  "Well, for him, it would be more like rolling." Said Erwin.

  There was another silence.

  "Yes, well, we'd best be going. Orin, stay here and guard the crown prince. I will be back with a wheelchair." Said Jacob.

  Jacob bowed and exited the room, leaving Erwin and his two nephews alone with each other. Malachi had not seen his uncle since the crowning and had not seen him much longer before that. He felt as if he would struggle to recognize the man even if his vision was perfect. He was never a mainstay at the palace, for better or worse.

  "You know, on the bright side, mom will probably let you watch TV all night since you're sick." Said Orin, taking a knee at his brother's bed.

  "As if she'll probably have me mowing the lawn by tomorrow if Jacob tells her I opened my eyes." Replied Malachi.

  Orin laughed and grinned ear to ear.

  "You're probably right." Orin seemed on the verge of tears as he spoke. "You know Kai. You're all glad you're okay. I tried to fight that assassin, but I am sorry I didn't avenge you, Kai."

  Malachi remembered the way his brother screamed when he was stabbed and the way his brother chased down the would-be assassin blade in hand. The screaming and the battling haunted him, but he was quick to grin back at his brother, not wanting to let the haunting show. "It's okay."

  "Is it?" Asked Orin.

  Admittedly, Malachi did not know if it was. Would it have been okay if he died? Is it a miracle that he's even awake right now? He didn't want to dwell on it.

  Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

  "Yes."

  "Well, am I glad you're good? A lot has been going around through the castle today, and you have been sorely missed. A lot of people will be happy to see you out and about." Said Orin, smiling.

  The two brothers then spoke of trivial things: games they played, shows they watched, and girls they liked. Orin spoke of Maria and Malachi chuckled at the suggestion.

  "You like the detective?" Asked Malachi.

  "Well, it's not everyday you meet a demon sorceress, as mom calls her. I might as well get to know her." Said Orin.

  "Wait until after the investigation though." Said Malachi.

  "After the investigation?" Asked Orin.

  "Yeah, you can't distract her from finding the killer, and that's a royal order." Said Malachi, crossing his arms.

  "Your wish is my command rock for brains. I'll wait till after the investigation to ask out the detective." Promised Orin.

  Malachi held those words closely; he had heard his parents scold his brother before. They said Orin was a philander and a womanizer, but Malachi hoped that his brother would do this for him.

  Their uncle Erwin found it in himself to be quiet during this time, and as the conversation went on and on without a word, he left the room altogether.

  Even though he left, he did not travel far, and he remained within earshot of Malachi. The man was clearly waiting for something, but that something was not yet clear. When Jacob returned, Malachi could see Erwin pull him to the side and then saw him walk away; each step they took got quieter and quieter until they were just barely out of earshot.

  A moment passed and the screeching of steel was heard—a shriek and then arguing. The arguing got louder and louder until Orin stood up to investigate it. Malachi could see his brother's face twist with frustration, and next he saw his uncle Erwin thrown down to the ground just outside of the inspection room door. Jacob stood over him with a scowl on his face and then walked over to Malachi as if nothing happened.

  "You'll pay for this knight; you can't put your hands on me. My blood is royal. I am the blood of Saint Johanna! Have you forgotten your place?" Said Erwin, raising his fist even as he lay down on the ground, writhing in pain.

  "Do you want to share what you said about our Earl to his face?" Asked Jacob.

  Erwin continued to writhe, his face contorted, and he spat venomous words at the elder warrior. "You are a foul specimen, an up-jumped commoner. Best believe the Aeonic order will hear about this." Erwin forced himself to his feet and dusted himself off. Huffing and puffing as he walked off.

  Malachi gazed upon Jacob and leaned back on the light pillowing of his bed. "What did he say?" Said Malachi.

  Jacob shook his head. "Some things are best not repeated. Come, crown prince, I have secured a wheelchair for you."

  "No, I want you to tell me what he said about my dad." Said Malachi.

  Jacob palmed his face, and a sigh was heard. "I lost my temper and acted in a way that I am not proud of. I do not want to repeat wicked phrases and risk making you angry as well."

  Even though Jacob refused to speak, Orin was not far behind, and he was not nearly as laconic as the elder knight was.

  "He said our father must've been happy you were the new heir, because there was no way Lucia and I were really his." Said Orin, crossing his arms. "Something about our white hair. More than that, he asked Jacob what the plan was when you eventually succumbed to your wounds."

  Malachi ears felt like they were burning.

  "What?"

  "He waited till I got back to argue his point; maybe that fool thought I would take his side and argue for his throne if he asked. I do not serve him." Said Jacob.

  Malachi knew his dad and his uncle never got along well, but the full reality of it has been shielded to him. People tried to put on a bright facade around him, and even though he knew it was a facade, he was never able to truly see right through it.

  "He came all this way to say that?" Malachi asked.

  "Think child, why would anyone come all this way?" Said Jacob, taking a seat at the very edge of Malachi's bed. "I know this is your uncle, but has he ever been one for familial love?"

  Malachi thought it over; he did not like the thoughts that came to him. "Was he hoping I wouldn't make it?"

  Jacob nodded. "You are more important than you care to know, Prince. With your position, you are the one wall between your father's legacy and a new dynasty taking the coal throne. Your brother is disinherited, your sister is dead, and everyone can smell the stink of your uncle from a mile away." Jacob furrowed his brow and spoke with a seriousness that the knight saved for only rare occasions. "If you die. Saint Johanna's legacy, blessed be her name, dies with you. That is why that assassin visited you, and that is why you must survive. I do not serve him, and even if I take this throne, I will never serve him."

  Malachi's vision began to clear, and he looked up at Jacob. "My dad says you don't serve us either."

  Jacob smiled. "I serve the aeons, the order, and what is right. Your father has never done wrong by me, nor have your children. I will serve you a lot until the aeons find it appropriate for me to rest till then I am immortal and I am forever present."

  Jacob stood up from the bed, went to grab the wheelchair, and pushed it inside the room.

  "Come. You have matters to attend to."

  Malachi in that moment found strength; he ignored the blazing pain in his stomach and slowly descended from the bed to stand on his legs. He used the edge of the bed for support, but stand he did, and he shook his head at Jacob. He was ready to be a knight, to be able to defend himself from anyone who wished him harm.

  "I will walk with you, knight, and when I get better, I want you to train me."

  Jacob smiled and shook his head. "You aren't walking just yet. Your strength impresses me, but you have not walked in days. Pace yourself, young prince."

  The elder knight offered Malachi a hand, and Malachi accepted, coming down from his bed and taking a seat in the wheelchair. Jacob came to push the wheelchair around, and as he did, he spoke to the prince.

  "So you want to be trained? What's causing this change of tune, crown prince?" Asked Jacob.

  Malachi looked at Jacob. "Well, I wish I could've fought that assassin myself. If I were a knight, I would've been able to."

  "A warrior, not a knight." Jacob corrected. "Knights cannot hold thrones. It is a sacrifice that you will not be able to take."

  Malachi then looked at Orin. "He was allowed to take that sacrifice."

  "When he did, Lucia was still alive. It was different for you than it was for him."

  Jacob began to push the wheelchair around the palace; Orin followed, and Malachi was greeted by happy people wherever he went. Orin was right; people were happy to see him alive and well. Every servant in the palace seemed to come out to see him, and there were cheers that followed. Jacob had taken the opportunity to take the slower route, the scenic route, giving Malachi a chance to see everyone who had missed him.

  "Although I cannot make you a knight, I will train you, Malachi. Know that skill in battle is earned; every bit of it is." Said Jacob.

  Malachi nodded. "I appreciate that. I want to earn my strength."

  "Great. First and foremost, however, I must complete my duty for today. The Duke Harold York has requested to see you; he says he knows a thing or two about demons and wanted to pour over your wound." Explained Jacob.

  "I grant him my audience." Said Malachi.

  "That is good; your mother grants it as well. I am sure she'll be waiting for you along with the duke." Said Jacob.

  The trio of men, Malachi, Jacob, and Orin, traveled the path of the palace until they reached a small room that was set to the far right wing of the Lincoln Manor. Parts of this wing were left unfinished; it had walls with little paint and pillars with uncertain foundations. In that room Lady Amelia and Duke Harold were speaking. They stopped when the trio entered and bowed their heads towards Malachi.

  "Looks like Erwin was right," said Amelia.

  "Never thought I would see you say those words, my lady." Said Jacob.

  Amelia laughed. "He said you hit him, and he said Malachi was awake. From what I can tell, he was right about the latter at least."

  "I did in fact strike the man." Confirmed Jacob.

  Lady Amelia shrugged. "I'm sure you had good reason. If I had my say, Al would've gotten rid of his brother a long while ago, but he's more sentimental than I."

  "Would you be so quick to get rid of your own brother?" Asked Jacob.

  "I don't have a brother to get rid of." Lady Amelia said with a raise of her brow. The noble lady then went to both of her sons, taking the time to hug both of them. "I am glad to see both of you safe and sound. I had quite the scare when I found out what happened in the crypts, Kai, but I knew you were strong enough to recover."

  Malachi still felt weakness within himself; his stomach was ablaze, and his limbs felt like wet spaghetti. He did not feel strong despite his mother's words, but he didn't reveal his disagreement, and he simply pushed it away.

  The duke Harold York eyed Malachi carefully and then looked toward his stomach with disgust.

  "Just as I had thought. Demonsblood, this is the same decay I saw in my home of Babel." Said Harold.

  "Do you know a cure?" Asked Jacob.

  "There is no cure but aeonsblood." Said Harold, matter of factly. "But I am guessing that is not an option."

  Jacob and Ameila looked at each other for a moment and then looked at Malachi. "I will find another way." Amelia said. "A demon is no match for royal blood, and Malachi is descended from three. Johanna, Azos and Abel. He will survive."

  Harold began to speak. "But there is no known."

  "He will survive." Amelia repeated, cutting the man off. "I will not allow for this to become a day of doom and gloom. My son is alive, and that is a joyous thing. Come everyone, let's celebrate."

  Lady Amelia led the group out of that unfinished wing and into the rest of the palace.

  As they entered, the cheers for Malachi resumed from before, and the prince wondered what lay ahead for him in the future, how long he would have, and what he would be able to do with that time.

  The song of trumpets rang through the air, and like honey, the music was sweet to his ears. For just a moment he forgot about his mortality and let the music play.