19. The King’s Obstacle

 

As we’re elevating, I glanced to see that Meeroc is laying on my lap like a lost pet, who is witnessing his master being attempted at rape by the very person who kidnaped my cousin. Today I experienced a consternation that every King inherits, and the dangers of having the last name Larferna. Didn’t I make a fair enough deal to persuade Faavel to stand down? As he beat Ceoda into unconsciousness, I had to grab Meeroc from jumping out the elevating throne. 

“They need her alive, or else they wouldn’t have planned to kidnap her!” I told him.

“Yes, but he’s going to f*****g rape her!” I didn’t have a reply for him, even I don’t know what’s going to happen to Ceoda. But I know that this moment is an act of dethroning me as King. So if I run, it would allow their attack to be finalised as a victory, and that anyone with enough power could just steal from Earth with the same swift ease as Reduntia. Once word gets out that the poorest Planet managed to dethrone me. Many other independent worlds and most likely the Galactic Government would invade the Larferna Kingdom and lay claim to our world. I’ve only been King for less than a month and I’m already losing my families empire. Once the throne has finished elevating, we were outside on the roof of my Palace. Overlooking the destruction of my country, I see that boiling oil was being poured by flying planes, and shots of flammable bullets to ignite them. The people whom I walk past around the Palace from a daily basis is being eaten alive by savage dogs while their children were made to watch. From afar I could see that my ten-million soldiers are being shot alive by acid bullets as they tried to stop the Reduntian army from ceasing the Larferna tree.  

“Sir! I’ve readied the helicopter. We should leave now,” shouted a pilot across the roof. I looked to see that Meeroc was peaking through the exit hole that we’ve just came out off, trying to see past the smokey flames in order to search for Ceoda. 

“Meeroc! They’re going to be sending Reduntian men up here soon,” I stated. 

“They already have,” he pointed behind the pilot, as a knife gushed out the right side of the pilot’s ear. His co-pilot sprinted like one of those savage dogs that I’ve just seen, and made it to our side with a weapon in hand. I counted six enemies so far, the Reduntian soldiers wore no shirts as they were sweating, probably due to the fact that they haven’t adapted to our sun yet. They dressed their legs with a cow skinned material that I heard was called leather? It was dyed black red, and the leather made weird squishy noises that feels more like the screams of the spirit cows crying. Their boots were made of an oily texture. They were weaponless, and their hands was painted in a red that convinced me was blood. I wished that Ceoda could have taken away my fear of combat, just as easily as she took away my shyness cell. Meeroc grabbed the knife from the co-pilot and bolted towards the two Reduntians who killed my first pilot. Meer stuck the knife in the first man that approached him and pulled it back out his throat. Then he ducked the attack of the second man and slashed open his knee caps. He quickly jumped through the already opened doors of the helicopter, and came out onto the other side to meet the four Reduntians. I ordered the co-pilot to start prepping for take off while I stood watching Meeroc’s surprising fighting skills. There was routine in his techniques, he would always roll under the enemies legs and instantly stab them near the ankles. Then he would lunge up to allow his knife to meet his targets neck. Meer was on his last two men when I saw Faavel and twenty of his soldiers across the roof. So I grabbed the flares next to the medical box in the helicopter, and threw it towards them. To create a visual barrier, and prevent them from studying Meeroc’s repetitive fighting techniques. Just incase he has to fight them later, and I couldn’t really let our biggest asset of this moment be killed by a prediction of his moves. Once Meer destructively put down those remaining two men, he attempted to continue onto the Reduntian soldiers across from us. It was a good thing he didn’t see Faavel standing there too, another benefit of those flares I’d just flung. I jumped out the helicopter and went to grab him while he acted like a dog whose dinner is getting taken away. He was in a killing frenzy, and I didn’t know how to stop it apart from pulling him into the helicopter. 

“I need to find Faavel,” he screamed. 

“He’s in the Palace, guarded by hundreds!” I lied. The co-pilot was flying us out, when Meer finally saw Faavel below the flares of smoke. I had to hold onto him like how I’d done during the throne elevation. 

“Shut the door!” I commanded, the co-pilot quickly pressed a button and the helicopter doors automatically closed. I let go of Meeroc then, and silently ordered the pilot to make sure the doors are locked also. 

“Where are we going, My Ferna,” cried out the co-pilot. Usually if something like this happened, Deconi told me that he would be the one that handles everything, including the location of our hideout. But he’s not with us, and I don’t know anyone that would help us apart from my ex-guardian and the Marcie sister’s. The Reduntians shouldn’t know who they are, or where their from. So maybe we could hide out at Kerra’s restaurant. Then I could send someone to seek out my ex-guardian, who is a trained bodyguard. I had chosen Kerra’s place  because it’s more discrete to land a helicopter in the middle of the woods, where Kerra’s restaurant is located, than parking it on the street of my ex-guardian’s house. 

“Head to Derutin City, and land near Kerra’s restaurant.” The co-pilot finally relaxed a bit after I gave my commands, but Meeroc wasn’t. 

Is it selfish of me to even shed the time to feel excited about seeing Atalie again? Shouldn’t I be 100% focused on planning how to retake the Palace, as well as saving my mentor? Because even though thinking about Atalie has costed me only two minutes. I still feel superiorly guilty over the fact that I could still wander about selfish thoughts, than that of the victims of todays massacre, and those victims are the civilians whom my family promised peace.  

“Why are we going to a f*****g restaurant?” asked Meeroc, without much thought to his question. 

“It’s the only place I know that will buy me time to conjure up a plan.”

“I relied on my instincts on the roof to get us out. I didn’t take the time to plan my fighting techniques. I just did it. Can’t you do the same for me?”

“My instincts doesn’t consist of fighting an army by myself.”

“You own one of the largest armies to date! Just order them to fight in your stead.”  

“I’ve never met the Royal army before, I don’t even know where their base is! I don’t know how to contact them!”

“You currently have ten million soldiers stationed at the Larferna tree, why not fly there instead? Than that of a f*****g restaurant!” 

“When I was on the roof, I saw the Reduntian army shooting acid bullets non-stop at anyone that nears the Larferna tree.” Thankfully a vibration of my phone caused the sudden argument between Meeroc and I to stop. 

“Who is it?” he asked, showing an impatiences that only drug addicts show. 

“It’s Annel,” I looked at Meer with hope and started reading the text she sent me.

“Dial the code ’30J32’ and email it to the website ‘BrassKettles44’. Then someone will call you within a reasonable time frame. They will give you instructions according to your situation. This is an automated message. Do not text back.” I showed the text to Meeroc after I followed the instructions. While he’s reading the message, the phone vibrates. Meer pressed the ‘answer’ and ‘loud speaker’ button and passed the phone back to me, in a gentle motion. 

“Hello?” I said.

“Voice confirmed,” I heard someone whisper.

“Sir, you’re speaking to the head of your stealth security. We’ve just tracked your locale. May I ask why you’re heading towards Derutin City, Sir?”

“We’re going to Kerra’s restaurant,” there was a brief silence, and I realised then that my reply seemed like a joke. So I continued. “I worked there once, and they’ve got a discrete landing spot in the woods their situated in.”

“Even I didn’t know about Kerra’s locale. It should be safe for you to hide there for now. May I have permission to send two hundred men to guard you, Sir? They will be forming up a circle barrier around this restaurant, and they will alert you if any Reduntians trespass.” 

“Why only two-hundred men and not an army?” interrupted Meeroc.

“Who is that, Sir?” 

“He’s with me. You have permission to answer him,” I ordered. 

“I’m sending only two-hundred men because it’s more discrete and manageable for stealthiness. Meaning they won’t give away your location as easily as an army of trained bodyguards.”

“Would you happen to know a better safe house?” I asked.

“Yes, we do Sir, but your helicopter is running low on fuel, so landing at Kerra’s back lawn is currently the best option.” 

“Who told you about our fuel situation?” Even I didn’t know that we were running low.

“The pilot in front of you is one of our men, Sir.”

“Then why have me send codes to BrassKettles?” I said it in an incredulous tone. Ceoda taught me that if someone is mad and upset, just like Meeroc. Then try to be mad with them, or at least try to resemble it in some way. This act benefits both parties, as Meer would feel less alone because he’s got a pal to emphasise with, and that could help him be more open to the questions I have for him later.  

“The Reduntians constantly trying to jam our phone signals, so that was probably a delayed message, Sir. ” 

“Is that me updated on all the information you’ll like to inform then?” Meeroc seems to agree with my tone. This head of my stealth security is one of the most vague informers I’ve met. 

“Aye Sir, it is.”  

“Dismissed,” I said, and hung up. Meeroc’s eyes twitched approval. Maybe I could ask my questions now? Although I should start with gratitude first.

“Thanks for saving us on the roof,” I mumbled. Meer merely just nodded twice. 

“Ceo doesn’t know I’m a fighter,” he suddenly said. 

“How come?” I asked. Happy that he’s revealing answers that I never thought to ask. 

“Because she mentally dominates everyone, and physicality is the one thing she sucks at…Apart from cycling. So I started training in self defence classes, hoping to show off to Ceo by protecting her during a possible attack. But instead I was shamefully on your lap, and forced to watch her beaten by a Reduntian…” 

“I’ve never fought anyone before, I just understood the philosophy of basic self defence 101.” He acknowledges my efforts of bonding by pretending to smoke, indicating the signal for: do you have a joint? I have something similar, so I pulled out a blunt from under my sleeve and sparked it up, then offered it to him.

“This should ease the strain you must be feeling,” knowing full well that he’d just killed six men, and possibly for the first time. 

“What strain you talking about?” he asks this, but we both know the weed was to ease his mental stress of knowing that his lover is in captivity. 

“For the muscles, since you didn’t stretch before or after the fighting spree,” I lied. 

Meeroc pretended to agree by taking a few inhales of the blunt. Then I realised that we’re currently hot-boxing the helicopter.

“We should put that out and save it for later, I don’t want our only pilot to f**k up our landing.” I suggested, he dabbed it out in agreement. 

“Sir, where would you like me to park? Close to the restaurant or a quarter mile away from it?” asked the co-pilot. There’s a high chance of customers being in the restaurant, and the sound of a helicopter would draw unwanted attention to my whereabouts. I know Kerra sound proofed the restaurant pretty good, but a quarter mile still wouldn’t be enough to muffle the sounds of the rotor blades. 

“Make it half a mile north, and have your boss send men to meet us at the landing spot to escort us to the restaurant,” I commanded. 

“Instructions confirmed, Sir,” despite the second hand smoke caused by the blunt, the co-pilot landed perfectly. And it made me think of how much better is the main pilot? The one that died back at the rooftop. My thoughts of that pilot never surfaced again once my men opened the door for my exit. 

“Sir, I was the one that spoke to you on the phone,” he said, as he ushered me out the helicopter. 

“Name?” 

“We don’t reveal names, Sir.”

“Aren’t you men in my command?”

“We are Sir, but only in-"” he stopped for a moment and continued. “Did Ms Annel tell you about our reason for being here?” 

“No, she hasn’t, tell it to me.”

“We were hired by her in your name, as your stealth security.”

“What sets you apart from my own guards?”

“We don’t fight your enemies, Sir, we only serve to protect you from them.”

“You men Earthborn?”

“We’re from the same Planet as Ms Annel, hence why we only address you as, Sir, instead of My Ferna.” 

“Who gives a flying f**k about who calls who when theres a war going on?” shouted Meeroc, walking ahead of us.

“Is he part of the protection plan, Sir?” 

“Of course, and you can stop calling me, Sir,” Meeroc is right though, why do I even bother thinking about who calls who. When I should be catering the thoughts of saving my mentor and regaining my Kingdom. Do I subconsciously want nothing to do with all I’ve gained so far? I have half a mile to walk, and I reckon I should do it in silence. So that I could think in a more immersed way, without the distortion of reality. Something which I haven’t done since being crowned. When Ceoda and I were visiting the Larferna tree, she mentioned her scouts discovered that I have an army of ten-million Larfern guards protecting it, and a hundred-million soldiers surrounding my Kingdom. I don’t know how many more men is left, but I must find out soon, but how? I have none of my assistants around me, I have no phone signal, and the men Annel hired for me only serves as escorts and bodyguards. They don’t know anything about my army, such as the war codes one inserts when releasing bombs, or the contact numbers to my War Chiefs. I was meant to learn all this next week! Whomever scheduled my lessons needs replaced, but blaming is a task best suited for someone other than myself. So let’s think about solutions, rather than the negative facts I’m forced to face. But what are the positive facts? Meeting Atalie again is one. I missed her aura, her voice, her ears that she uses so well to listen, nothing slips pass her. She is attentive and smart, intelligent enough to hack into the Galactic servers, just to show me an interview of Ceoda Moore. She hacked… she hacks! I started jogging up to Meeroc, who is speed walking like a boss on wheels. He looked at me when I reached him.

“How did your stealth security even get here? Did they walk? Because a car would speed things up,” he complained, I ignored him and said.

“I think I know someone who can hack into my Royal servers and find out the contact info to all my War Commanders.” I continued to run past him, he instantly followed. 

“Who?” he asked, while maintaining pace with my running speed. 

“Atalie Marcie, the little sister to Octlyn’s girlfriend,” I replied, and looked behind to see that I have a group of fifty odd men running after me, no doubt my stealth security. They were fast and knowing, so half the men ran past us to scout for possible enemies. When Meer and I got to the restaurant, I signalled my guards to follow me into the back Kitchen, than that of the front entrance. I peeked through the window and saw Rosita Marcie carrying a bunch of plates to the sink. I knocked twice at the window and walked in.

“Hi Rosita,” I rushed out. “I’m looking for your sister, Atalie.”

“She’s upstairs, the room across from mines,” she grinned out. 

“Don’t tell anyone I’m here please,” I didn’t smile back, but she probably just thought I was being nervous…

“Of course,” her expression twitched a smile that told me she thinks I’m only here to court her sister, but one look at Meeroc’s bloody hands translated her theory to dust. I paced myself at a fast walking speed, and was stopped by the audio of the speech I recorded before Octlyn got kidnapped. I turned back and followed the sound, which lead me to the dinning room. Customers filled every table as they watched my speech on the large TV’s that is hung above every corner of the room. 

“I allowed our TV entertainment system to be merged with the rest of the Galaxy, which gained our government over 300 Billion worth of revenue in mere weeks,” said the TV me. 

“The boy knows how to take credit for someone else's work, I’ll give him that!” A huge crowd laughed in agreement. Even I agreed, Ceoda should have announced the achievement herself but said I would gain more followers if I did. Though when she said followers, I think she only meant the gullible. 

“Why you standing there? You bloody hungry or something?” asked Meeroc, nudging me to go upstairs. 

“Sorry…” I continued to jog my way into Atalie’s room entrance, and Meeroc gave it a hard knock. No one answered, so I gave it a gentle knock, incase she thought Meer’s knock was just someone dropping something near her door. She finally opened her room to us. 

“Um…” She looked from me to the gorgeous Meeroc, and aimed her eyes back to me. Though her body was still facing Meer’s. 

“Hi Quen… I mean, My Ferna?” she’s losing her words, something that commonly happens when in the presence of a beautiful man such as Meeroc Davies. 

Meeroc started walking into Atalie’s room without consent. 

“You can call me Quent when it’s just us,” I remarked. 

“What are you doing here… My Ferna?” she said it while eyeing Meer, who is currently walking towards us with Atalie’s portable computer.

“We want you to hack into the Royal servers, we need you to find us the contact info for all of Remi’s War commanders,” said Meeroc. He passed the laptop to her.

“What the f**k,” she whispered to herself. 

“By order of your King!” shouted Meer, I started holding him back, something that I became used too. All sexual feelings that I think Atalie had for him, just vanished from her, or maybe enhanced it? She grabs her computer from Meeroc and starts booting it up. 

“I only know how to hack into the Galactic servers, or media industries to be exact. I can’t do it Que-"” she quickly glanced at Meer. “My Ferna,” she finished. 

“The Reduntian army is currently invading your King’s Palace!” 

“What! My sister’s there… How?” she asked, shocked. 

“It isn’t on the news yet?” I asked no one in particular, Atalie quickly gave a few types on her laptop and finally updated herself on the current on-going invasion.

“You just want your armies to report to you, right?” she asked me. 

“Yes, I need them to help take back the Palace, but I have no way of contacting them.” 

“I could help you film a request speech, and since I only know how to hack into the media industries. I could send the video to every TV network on Earth.” 

“Bring us a camera,” instructed Meeroc. She rose up and quickly left her room to find one. 

“You know what to say?” he asked.

“I’m going to demand the ten-million soldiers at the Larferna tree to help retake the Palace.” 

“Then who’s going to protect your damn tree? Reduntia isn’t here for the Palace, there here for the Larferna Tree,” he reminded. 

“Yes, but Ceoda is in the Palace with that savage.” I never knew I cared that much for Ceo, though I guess it’s only natural for a student to develop a family like feeling towards a mentor. 

“Still… I would recommend that you leave the ten million soldiers to stay put. Have your main army do the retaking.” I nodded in agreement when Atalie came back with a camera in hand. 

She suggested that I should do the interview by the window. Meeroc ordered my guards to bring up a table but then Atalie decided that Kerra’s office would be more appropriate and regal. She had a huge desk by a large window. I sat down on Kerra’s chair in preparation of my unrehearsed, unscripted speech of demanding Earthborn men to risk their lives in an upcoming battle that is unfortunately unavoidable. I started thinking of how my ancestors would feel or think, when faced with mere seconds away from making a public speech. A form of combined words that will yield every Earthling to listen. See, I’m not nervous, thanks to Ceoda. I’m just afraid of how people would react to what I’ve got to say…

“I’m going to press record in five-seconds?” asked Atalie, I nodded and counted up to five, and Meeroc gave me a frown and a hand signal to let me know that it’s recording.

“Over a thousand years ago, parents would often arrange marriages for their children, most times for political gains or the dowry one gets when marrying into a rich family. The parents don’t care if you approve or not. They don’t need you to love whom you’re marrying in order to marry. Though love does often arise within the years you will spend together, and approval could most times be created. I’ve just recently became your King, meaning we’re in a similar marriage of some kind, and love is not yet been found between us. But even the folks that had been forced to marry still stick to the marriage agreement, and if they didn’t, most of you’s wouldn’t even be alive today, because they were probably your ancestors. My ancestors planted the Larferna tree, which is the only reason why Earth is still alive! Living without the worry of dying on a dying Planet! To make people remember that, my ancestors named the tree after them. There was also a dowry that they made with the people of Earth. A dowry that your ancestors accepted in order to give you all the richness you come to consume from a daily basis. Well, I’m kin to the people you all owe, and the dowry your ancestors gave us in return, was the support and loyalty in Everything a Larferna Demands! All I demand for today, and tomorrow, if needs be, is to fight against Reduntia to take back the land they are currently stealing… If not, then most of you will die, and those lucky enough to survive will be forced to live in Reduntia. Raising your children in environments that could lessen your newborns life by 70%… But if you were to obey me. To act on my strategies. To be loyal to me. Then I will make sure that Reduntia is a Planet you will never call home.” I paused for a moment to gain a breather before continuing, “I hereby order all my War Commanders to meet me at the place where a boy named Quent once worked.” I finished. Atalie stopped the video.

“Was that enough?” I reflexively asked. 

“You got your point through… Atalie, upload it now,” instructed Meeroc, then he turned and said.

“That was wise to reveal your location by stating that it’s the place where Quent once worked. If Faavel saw the video, he or any other Reduntian wouldn’t even know who Quent is.” 

“They will soon, but it will take them time to figure out that Quent is actually me. Which gives my Commanders a head start in coming here before the Reduntians.” 

“I have scouts situated outside the forest and a mile away from it, so that when a bicycle cavalry arrives. We can at least confirm it’s yours, than that of a Reduntians. But we should still distant ourselves from the restaurant, Sir,” suggested my head of stealth security. 

“Why would they send in a bicycle cavalry, wouldn’t it be faster with cars?” said Meer.

“I walked here once, the trail paths too narrow for cars,” I replied. 

“Motor bikes then?” he suggested.

“It’ll be too loud,” I stated. 

“Fair enough, though we should probably wait by the helicopter?” said Meeroc. I stayed silent, thinking that Meer’s question was directed towards my guard. But I finally noticed that everyone was waiting for my answer, and it would always be this way. When I was Quent Falenarr, I was alone, bullied and shunned from all social experiences. So craving attention was something I would deal with each day, and now I realised that I’ve been craving for something I absolutely don’t want.