|The Talon Prince
Author: KuroKage1717 PM
A unique fighter finds out that he is a prince. He is taken from one battlefield, and thrown into another, as he now must rule over one of the last major cities that stands against a huge enemy. Similar to Changing Winds. COMPLETE *old story*Rated: Fiction T - English - Adventure/Drama - Chapters: 8 - Words: 25,537 - Reviews: 12 - Favs: 9 - Follows: 3 - Updated: 09-28-07 - Published: 09-16-07 - Status: Complete - id: 2415722
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Had some time, so I figured I might as well post the last chapter.
All of Arkaissa was silent as the White Saritar landed with their burdens. They stared in a terrible, stunned silence at the still dark form of their Prince. They saw the three arrows in him, and feared the worst. The hoped for the impossible as the white warriors from another land carried him into the Mayor's building. For a long time, they did not return, and the people waited in anxious silence.
Inside, the Mayor, Melody, and Karmina crowded around as Shade laid the still form on a cot beside Taomak's. Taomak was awake, and stared at his friend in alarm. He waited until Shade checked Nakael over than asked anxiously, "Is he alive?"
"Barely," Shade answered in a quiet, subdues voice. "I will be surprised if he lived through the day."
"No," Taomak whispered, going deathly pale. He looked into Shade's eyes desperately. "Is there anything you can do?"
"I cannot help him. I do not dare remove the arrows for fear he'll bleed to death in minutes. He is beyond my expertise." Taomak felt like he'd just been socked with a ten bound ball in the stomach.
"But," Shade continued, "There is an elder who may be able to help him. Sky," he turned to the uninjured flyer. "Fly to our camp, and bring back Elder Dyuik with you. He is the only one who can help us. Fly fast, Sky."
Sky nodded, and though he was weary from the battle, he ran outside the building, and took to the sky like a white bullet.
While Shade watched over the flyer, the other four Saritar took care off the other two injured. The blades man was mortally wounded, and died within the hour. The other flyer was only minorly wounded, and within a few hours was sitting up, his whole torso swathed with bandages.
Melody sat beside Nakael's bed, with a sorrowful, worried expression, while Karmina burst into tears and ran from the room. Even though she had disliked the Prince at the start, now she loved him for his compassion just like all the other citizens.
The Mayor went out, and told everyone the truth, that their Prince was fighting for his life, and was not expected to live. But the people clung to hope, knowing that their Prince had a inner determination, a fierce will, and hoped that he was using this determination to stay alive.
All throughout the day, Nakael continued to breathe, his every breath tremulous and labored. But breathe on he did, one breath after the other. He hung onto the last threads of life with every bit of strength he had. But it was not quite enough.
As day turned into night, his breathing became more labored, and shallower. It was evident that he would not live much longer. Taomak never took his eyes from his friend, dreading the moment when Nakael would stop breathing altogether.
In the middle of the night, Sky stepped into the door, and immediately collapsed. He had brought Elder Dyuik with him, having flown all the way their, and then back, carrying the old man with him, and now, he was utterly spent. The two archers helped him to a couch, while Elder Dyuik went straight to Nakael's bed.
First thing, he ordered Melody and the Mayor out of the room, leaving the Saritar to help him. Next, he studied Nakael's prone body, frowning at the arrows.
He opened his bag, taking out a wad of a brown, mushy substance, and a long roll of bandages. He also pulled out a variety of other things.
"We've got to get those arrows out, one at a time," he said. He gestured at the four able Saritar. "I'm going to need your help."
For the rest of the day, and far into the next day, they worked behind the closed doors. Several times, one of the Saritar came out, carrying bloodied material, or a bowl of cool water, needing more hot water and clean bandages. Taomak watched the procedures with an anxious eye at first, but then he fell into a restless sleep.
Finally, at midday, the Saritar Elder came out, along with his four weary helpers. He met the eyes of Melody and her husband, and gave them a cut nod.
"He lives," he said gruffly. "For now." They understood that he was making no promises. He had done his best, and only time would tell whether the daikhal Prince would live.
Two weeks later, Nakael's eyes fluttered open. His mouth was unbearably dry, and his vision was blurred. He numbly turned his head, trying to figure out where he was, but his mind was foggy because he was heavily drugged, and he could not think straight.
"Nakael!" A joyous cry came from beside him, a blurry figure swam into view. "You're awake!"
"W-water," he croaked out, his voice raspy.
"On its way." A hand supported his head while a cup was held to his lips. Greedily, he sucked down every drop of fluid, sighing in pleasure at the relief it gave his dry throat.
"Where - where am I?" he slurred, not recognizing his surroundings.
"You're in the mayor's building," the face swam closer, and Nakael blinked several times.
"Yes! It's me!" The face broke into a wide grin. "Boy, the Elder sure must've given you some powerful stuff. You can hardly recognize your life-long friend!"
"Sorry," Nakael mumbled, his words sightly slurred. He struggled to organize his thoughts, which seemed as slippery as fish. "What happened?"
"You took out the Plume King, and the Prince," a new voice said, and a different face swam into view. Nakael squinted up at the white-blond hair, the pale blue eyes, the narrow, bronzed face.
"Don't you recognize me?" Nakael tried, but his fogged mind just wouldn't respond. He shook his head slightly, and the face smiled slightly.
"Sky?" Nakael studied the face, and finally recognized the low, deep voice. "But-" he tried to push himself up, but the Saritar flyer gently held him back.
"Relax, friend. You were seriously wounded; three arrows in dangerous places. It is a miracle you are still breathing."
"My people?" Nakael asked anxiously.
Sky and Taomak smiled together. "They are waiting for their Prince," Sky answered.
It was a bright morning, and Nakael squinted painfully in the bright light. It had been nearly a month before he'd been outside. Even now, he was barely strong enough to stand. Sky and Taomak had to support him, while the other Saritar lingered behind him, ready to offer their own support.
Slowly, leaning heavily on his two friends, he made it to the edge of the balcony, and peered over the edge. At once, a cheer arose from the dark mass of thousands of people gathered their. Their cheer rose into a deafening roar, swelling in the air.
Nakael looked down, and a smile grew on his pale face. It took all his strength, but he managed to lift an arm in response. His people only yelled the louder, celebrating that their Prince was back. For many days, the city had been a quiet, tense place, as the daikhals worried that their Prince would not survive. But survive he did, and here he was.
It would be a long, long time til he fully recovered, and it would be several months before he flew again. But when he was ready, he would take an army of daikhals, his Saritar Protectors, and begin to cleanse other cities of Plumes. While their was only one King, their were many Plume Princes and Princesses, and they refused to give in.
While in the long days of bed rest, he had studied the green medallion, and finally discovered that the strange inscription was a inverted, backwards daikhal writing. And what he read there, was truly a key. A key on how to rule a entire people, a key that he had discovered long before. Treat others as you would be treated. And that was that. So simple, yet so powerful. And with it, he had ruled an entire nation.
And he was no longer a Prince. He was a King. Not only a King of daikhals, but of former Plumes who defected to his rule. Many deserted the Plume armies, and he accepted them with open arms. They too, developed a fierce loyalty to the daikhal King, because of his compassion and care for all his subjects.
Yet, despite his growing nation, his empire, he still had a special place in his heart for the daikhals, as they did for him. To them, he was still their warrior-prince, their leader, their friend, their brother.
Word spread all throughout the land, of the Warrior-King. A king who lead a massive army against the Plumes, slowly taking back the cities they had conquered, and making them free. He was undefeatable, unstoppable. The very image of him dropping from the sky, deadly talons extended, was enough to instil fear in his enemies. Among all, he become known as a fearless avenger, yet a compassionate leader.
For he was the Talon King.