The Fate Of AT Termina (short story)
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05-08-2012, 12:04 PM
You're going to want to run.
Join Date: Apr 2012
Location: Like, right now.
Re: The Fate Of AT Termina (short story)
Thank you for the praise, iDin.
I like your ideas, so I decided that I might just do that. I have a few chapters planned, none of them very long (except possibly for Redemption and Farewell). I have to say, if you think this is good, you must think
, Zerudahime and Shadow's (as well as a load of other people I will admit beat me) stuff transcends the rules of possibility.
So, without further ado, here's Ikana.
King Igos stood on the lip of the crater surrounding his castle. He had been stood there for hours, staring at the moon. He hadn’t said anything in all that time, just stood and stared.
Just stood and stared.
His bodyguards came up behind him, and had a brief silent argument about who should disturb the undead monarch, before the left one, distinguishable only by his more brutish-looking skull of a thoroughbred Ikanan, pointedly clattered his skeletal hands together.
“Do they fear it?” the king asked, not turning from the moon.
“I’m sorry sire?” asked the other skeleton, whose more elongated skull showed he was at least partly Hylian.
“The end.” Said Igos. “Do the people fear it? Does the thought of dying forever, after all these years scare them?”
The Ikanan shook his head. “No. they see the end as something to be treasured. No more duty to follow if the kingdom doesn’t exist.”
The king went through the motions of a sigh. “Then nor shall I. I too shall welcome the end.” He turned, finally, his gaze falling on his ancient castle. It had nominally fallen several centuries ago, but only today would its purpose be truly lost- the impact of the moon would obliterate even the undead of the canyon kingdom. “Play the song. Awaken the people. I would hold court one last time. Perhaps it will take my mind from the events to come.”
Five minutes later, Igos was seated in his throne room, the undead people of Ikana arrayed before him in a sight that would push any live person to the brink of insanity through its horror, but brought a swell of pride to the skeletal king. If he still had tearducts, he would have wept from them. After all the hardship they had faced, the people had never abandoned their country. Never. They had seen it through to the end.
And the end was now.
“Now.” Igos called. “Are there any matters that you, the people of Ikana, think are worthy of royal attention.” A citizen, Igos believed his name was Seket, raised hand. “Yes. You.”
“I wish to bring the king’s attention to the imminent destruction of the kingdom. I was wondering whether precautions should be taken to safeguard our personal treasures beyond our demise.”
Igos considered saying something, but instead elected to bury his head in his hands.
Some days just weren’t worth getting out of the casket for.
Then the laughter started.
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