Tossing, turning, groaning, once again King Lulouis was finding no sleep. His bed was far too large, the stone room much too cold. Yes, that was it. With a grunt, he threw his legs over the bed, wheezing as he pushed himself up and donned a pair of slippers. His feet plodded to the bathroom, where he took some water to wipe his face. Staring into the mirror, he glared at a face lacking any of the royal grace he once had. Wrinkles etched from a permanent glare, a dreary gray mane, a short, scratchy beard, an off white nightgown: he turned away, not appreciating the honesty of a mirror.
Shuffling towards the door, off to find a servant in this early evening, he stopped dead. He didn’t exactly possess the best hearing, but even so the faint noise from the city caught him. Steps wide, he stormed over to the window, eyes shooting open as he saw the city alight, not from a conflagration of destruction, but a blaze of lantern light, the wind carrying the sounds of revelry and merriment. There were no two ways about it: they had begun the Ko’Bo’Ka’Na Festival. His hands found grip on the stone brick of the windowsill even as they trembled in anger. “You dare… You dare!” Hobbling his way to the door, he started down the spiral stairs. “Defy me, will you!? Guards, guards!” Lulouis’ roars echoed into the palace, but even as he reached the common area, the throne room, and the entry hall, there wasn’t a soul to be seen. “Guards!? Servants? Petre? Alliant? Where...where are you?” His blustered started to fade, a timidity returning to his voice, lost in the echoes of the castle. “Where did you go? Why...why did everyone leave me?”
The calm of the long path was punctuated by the occasional cough or grumble. Lulouis’ slippers had become marred with dirt, the king not even changing in his mad dash for the town (as generous as that description might be). Slowly, the bustle of festivities became louder and louder. Like so many of the years before, the town was littered with pop up construction. Stalls for snacks and pleasure foods were rampant: cotton candy, sauce coated decadences of every sweet and savory variety you could fathom. Instruments abound swathed in song, crowds gathering, some to listen, others to dance. Comedians and jesters pulled in laughs, while puppets drew the awestruck eyes and gaping mouths of children. And all of it drove Lulouis
mad.
2 years agoBack arched, the royal mantle Lulouis so often wore proudly was faced away from the window that, even through closed glass, was a gateway to the faint sounds of the Ko’Bo’Ka’Na Festival below. But even though Lulouis wanted to find the cloth to stuff the window and render it all silent, to do that, he would have to release the hand of the woman in front of him. Silvery white hair splayed out on the pillow, bedsheets covering her thin body, one far too thin even for a woman as old as herself, Queen Lycien DuPont’s eyes were locked on that window even as her husband continued to hold her hand.
“I’m sorry, I couldn’t do more for you,” Lulouis mumbled, his voice faint, fragile.
Lycien shook her head. “You’ve done more than enough for me. You took me to Marie Geoise for the Reverie just a month ago, you helped me raise our two wonderful sons, and you’ve given me more love than I’ve ever known what to do with.” Running her thumb over the back of Lulouis’ hand, she said, “And what about you? I’d be much happier knowing you were off enjoying the festival instead of moping around here.” There was a playfulness to her words, one that frustrated Lulouis to no end as she made light of her own death.
Slowly, Lulouis shook his head. “I...I can’t. How can I go enjoy myself when I’m about to lose the one thing that made me happiest?” Lycien didn’t deny him. Lulouis always figured she just didn’t have the energy. She gave him a small, sad smile before going quiet again. Within the hour, she fell asleep. And she never woke again. When her breathing stopped, the room becoming quiet, all Lulouis could hear was the sounds of that damn festival. He stayed there, as though trapped in time, until the festival too went quiet.
If he got his way, there would never be noise from that festival again. Let both of them rest in peace.
As Lulouis struggled through the streets, trying to make his way, the crowd parted for the doddering old man so clearly out of place. He wanted to cry and roar, but the bile in his throat kept his words stuck. Stumbling against a wall, he started to cough and hack, the fit lasting until he burped out a glob of stomach acid. Sweat beaded on his forehead, he tried to find the words, when the land of Banonono the greengrocer found his shoulder. “Are you all right?”
“Don’t touch me! Stay away!” Lulouis wailed, pulling away.
3 years agoLycien’s hand reared back, her expression clearly pained. It was a face Lulouis would never forget. But as he shook her off, he continued to move back towards his study. “The Tianyan Empire has taken a nearby island, we have to shore up defenses! And we only just now got word of another merchant company interested in the Drunken Iron Ore. The iron is hot! Just have fun at the festival without me!”
Eyebrows narrowing, Lycien was even less receptive to the idea than him knocking her hand away. Hiking up her dress, she turned her head away in a huff. “I’m not going without you!” as she reached the end of the hall, for a moment she turned back, Lulouis watching her, his expression a mote softer, but still resolute. Face tightening, she turned away. “There’d be no point,” she muttered as she left. Lulouis let out a long sigh, shaking his head. It was all for the good of this country, her first and foremost.
“Stop all of this at once!” Lulouis spat as he stumbled into the nearest intersection. A boy chasing after his dog Ropho suddenly veered out of the way as he tore through, collapsing onto the paved stone. The two stopped, going to him as he held himself on his hands and knees. The boy tried to help him to his feet, while Ropho licked at a scrape that appeared on his hand.
20 years agoAlliant laughed as the dog licked at his face, the four year old prince more interested in the stray than the glorious festival. Dressed down into casual clothes, Lycien stooped to her son’s side, her hair a dirty blonde, joining Alliant in petting the good boy.
“See? The festival is plenty enjoyable without foreigners, even if Alliant’s more interested in the dog than the festival so far,” Lulouis chortled, the clean shaven man fiddling with his brown ponytail for a moment.
His bronze beard an uneven scraggle, Petre grumbled, “Size isn’t everything, but the villagers have been complaining about less business-”
“Pish posh. Business is second to pleasure with the festival.”
Lycien butt in. “Pleasure? All I hear is business!”
Lulouis opened his mouth, a tinge of guilt passing over his face, but Petre grumbled, “More business would mean less need to horde the ore!”
“If we let them in just for the festival we’re showing a lack of integrity!” Lulouis retorted.
“You spend 364 days worrying about the kingdom, but you can’t allow even one day of rest?” Lycien’s glare did finally draw them back, but the prince just exciting his teenage years didn’t stop, he just chose to be more careful.
Helped to his feet, Lulouis was steadfast on his path, even though he didn’t know where he was going. Less than half a dozen people followed him, each one knowing who he was within minutes, but in this moment he wasn’t a king so much as a fellow islander in need. Lulouis' mind rushed, and it must have been bumping into things because the stress left his head pounding. “Where...where are my boys?” he grumbled to himself, words easily missed by those behind him. Turning his head, he saw Macklamalky’s stand, brown, amber, and red orbs glistening in the light.
36 years agoWith a mighty crunch, the recently crowned King Lulouis bit down on a bright red candied apple, the sweetness and sourness melding together with the sticky candy and crunchy apple, the mixture absolutely irresistible. A second and third one in his hand, the last one rather small, he turned about, seeking his family in the passing crowd. He didn’t meet eyes with Lycien, as the young woman was scanning about. The bite grew warm in his mouth as he stopped chewing, sensing something wrong.
“Where’d Petre go?” she asked.
Nearly dropping the treats, Lulouis switched gears into panic mode before he’d even realized. Hopping into action, he pushed his way through the throng of people. Food falling out of his mouth, he called, “Petre? Petre!?” Reaching the other side, he kept his eyes peeled for anything out of place. He was just there a second ago, and that realization made his heart race. As the heir to the throne, Petre had been a ripe target to pluck. Rage filling his heart, he started to storm off, nearly tripping over a tree root as he went off in search of any guards. But he needn’t go that far. A wave of relief washed over him as he saw Petre off by the trees, fiddling with his pants. “PETRE!” he called, rushing forward.
Petre looked up like nothing was wrong. “I godda go to the bafroom,” said the three year old boy.
Letting out a gasp of exasperation, Lulouis insisted, “You should ask first!” Leaning the candied apple away, he felt his body lose strength as adrenaline faded. Looking back, he waved down Lycien before placing a hand on Petre’s back, guiding him properly as best he could.
Even has his heart had settled, his mind had not. He was king now. As he watched the festival, he saw it not as a patron of its festivities, but as a ruler. It was something to guide and protect, just as he did his son, his physical heart walking outside of his body. It was a simple incident, but it stuck with Lulouis more strongly than the candy to the apple. A part of him was left behind that day.
”I don’t know sir,” admitted Flake.
“I can’t lose them, I can’t,” Lulouis howled. “They’re all I have left.” Shoulders shuddering, he kept walking without direction, until a loud popping made him stop. Turning about, he saw Loleth sitting by a number of prizes aligned on shelves, simple pop guns going off, corks launching to snag those prizes.
43 years agoCheers erupted, clapping sounded, and Loleth handed Prince Lulouis a small stuffed horse, legs stiffened so it might stand. And right away, he handed it over to the young woman at his side. She cooed, “Eh? For me? Whatever did I do to deserve this gift?”
Lulouis blushed slightly, clearing his throat before he replied, “You were trying so hard to get it, that I thought it’d be a shame.” Those in the vicinity gave a few whistles, Lulouis’ red shade deepening.
Horse held up, slightly covering her smile, the young woman dropped it down before grabbing Lulouis by the hand and pulling him off. She looked back at his mystified face, observing, “I can’t just accept such a nice gift without offering anything in return. Come on!”
Moving right on down to the next road, she stopped by a puppet show, the two getting the gist of the story within moments, stooping down behind a small crowd of children as the young adults they were and sticking out the rest of the story to the end. Next they grabbed some skewers, Lulouis munching while she talked about her favorite parts of the festival. Somewhere in there, he’d gotten her name: Lycien. He’d offered his only as ‘Lou’, feeling a bit awkward about sharing any more. But their journey continued into the night, the two seeming to stop at every attraction on their path.
Reaching the local jeweler’s, Lycien entered the closed store casually, having produced a key easily. She returned with her hands clasped, gesturing for Lulouis to open his palm. Into his hand she dropped an iron ring, the shimmer akin to a boat in the sea. To imagine oneself standing on it, they’d be shifting back and forth, like a drunk man.
Lulouis gawked. “This is too nice of a gift! I can’t accept this!”
Lycien shook her head, smile not fading for a moment. “It’s nothing amazing. I’m proud of it, but it’s only my first ring ever, I’m still just an apprentice. It’s nothing we can sell, but it means a lot to me.”
“Then I really can’t accept it!” Lulouis held out his hand, but Lycien made no move to retrieve it.
“Then call it an early birthday present. Or a late one. When is your birthday?”
Lulouis cowed. “Er...today.” Lycien raised one eyebrow as her eyes started to widen. “I swear, I’m not making that up!” But as he’d said it, it became harder to let go of the ring. Looking into its glimmer, he admitted, “Honestly, I haven’t thought about it in years. I always have really good birthdays, so I don’t even really mind that no one acknowledges them.” Realizing something, he wondered, “Why did you want to give me something so nice anyway?”
Lycien shook her head. “I just thought you were having so much fun it was making me happy. But I changed my mind, that’s not a good birthday present.”
“No, it-” Lulouis began, before Lycien swooped in, pecking her lips on his cheek in a kiss.
“Happy birthday,” she said with a sly smile on her face. Lulouis thought his heart was going to stop. As he was stuck in place, she started to step away. “Now I have another reason to love the day of the festival.” And with that, she fled, possibly to hide a blush of her own. Lulouis didn’t remember how long he was stuck there processing what had happened. But time wouldn’t stay stopped forever. Like a fairy tale, he would explain his heritage on the same day he proposed to her, their marriage one that would last a lifetime. Until death...
Eyes spaced apart, they began to regain focus, coming to center on the hand set against the wood support holding aloft the roof of the stand. One the hand was a lone ring, it’s shimmering rocking back and forth like an inebriated man.
His mouth opened, a faint whimper coming, his eyes starting to shine with tears that soon began to spill. He missed her, so much that he sometimes couldn’t bear it. She was not only his wife, but his best friend. He loved the dreams where she was miraculously alive, acting as though nothing was wrong, but when he awoke to a cold, empty bed, far too large, he felt like he never wanted to wake up again. But this festival, the one she loved so much, on the day she loved so much, was a dream in itself. Fun and revelry in hopes for a good year to come, where stories were made and told.
Right now, in this moment, Lulouis was no king. Appearances cast away, he crumpled to his knees, leaning against a stall, his loud wails silencing the street. Clenching his hands against his face, his shoulders trembled as he wept. Yet he would not be the only source of water spilling this night. A cloud passed by far ahead, a brief shower passing by, much to the surprise of those on Gunwhale Island. It wasn’t a lot of rain: it only lasted for a minute or so, and even then it was spotty and uneven. But once it cleared up, so many of those drenched just picked their festivities back up with a laugh. The Ko’Bo’Ka’Na Festival was there to call the rains, after all.
A hand coming to his back, Alliant leaned down. “Father...dad. Let’s get you cleaned up. My house isn’t far. I’ll send for Petre and then we can have some fun. How does that sound?” Shifting his position, Lulouis buried his face in his son’s shoulder, fruitlessly trying to hide from his subjects what they already knew was coming: his wet grunt of compliance. In the wake of the rainfall and in anticipation of the king’s return, the festival had a second wind, those holding themselves back having no reason to now that the king had acquiesced. It was not the biggest festival the island had hosted, but it might have lasted the longest and sounded out the loudest. Closing out the festivities, there would be the first in a new tradition, as a lone firework would streak through the air, a lone firework that miraculously pushed past the rain, bursting brightly in the night sky.
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