The Elemental Guard #1: The King Returns to Monarch’s Cross

The King’s River came from the Northwest, where mines of the realm supplied all kinds of ores and riches. The Grand Mountain Range defined the northern border of the realm, then ran from the Northeast, through Monarch’s Cross then turned west where The Canyon ran all the way to a great forest and the southern seas. Clan lands made up the south and the eastern plains, the breadbasket of the realm, stretched as far as farmers were willing to live. Where the plains met the canyon and the river met the winds, the mountain range descended to an opening where the city of Monarch’s Cross, formerly King’s Cross, sat and continued up into the last spur of the Grand Range. Today was the day it would change its name. King Ulder died a month earlier.

While on a hunting trip into the Clan Lands, the King fell from his horse, broke his leg, rolled into a Spiny Plains Bush and hit his head on the rocks around which the spiny plants made their home. The Scholars knew of the Spiny Plains Bush, but they didn’t know the bush had a dormant poison. The Scholars had an agreement with the Clan Leaders that allowed for exploration, but no permanent structures. A deal the monarchs were happy to live with as ores and bread were more valuable than knowledge of the Clans and the land they called home.

King Ulder mostly recovered from his injuries was eager to leave for the north. He privately complained of headaches for the rest of his life, but who was going to stop him from going on a tour of the Northern Mines during winter preparations? The King took the usual cadre of soldiers, advisors and scholars. His unknown passenger was the dormant poison. The tour of the Northern Mines was an annual tradition, the better monarchs called it a necessity. The mines would be cut off from support due to snow and frozen water ways. It was the responsibility of the Duchess of the North to prepare the mines with all the food & manpower it needed to make it through the isolating winters. The King was pleased to see what he expected. Workers were well fed and in high spirits. The last ore shipments were loaded and would leave for King’s Cross the same day the King and his cadre would depart for home.

Cold air from the north flooded the region, encasing the North Castle in a freezing bubble. “A good day for you to leave your majesty", the Duchess said.

“A little cold never hurt. A good reminder of how sturdy the men of the north are. We are proud of them,” the King answered.

Trouble showed itself for the first time at their departure feast. The King shivered as he sat at the table. The hall fires had been going all day. The King had been in the castle for hours. Those sitting closest to the King’s end of the table looked at one another; afraid to ask the question they read on each other’s faces. The meal finished with the far end of the table unaware of the concerns those closest to the King took away from the table. The King slept through the night but woke with a cold sweat. A brave Scholar asked the King if he would like to delay departure. “Nonsense, if we stay, we could get stuck. What are you worried about?” the King asked in return. The Scholar heard the tone, don’t say anything else.

Several hours after departure, scouts of the party came back to the cadre with news of warmer travels ahead. “The air warms past that spur,” one of the scouts said to a King’s Guard. They decided not to tell the king who’d been quiet and shivering from the first steps of the trip. Before they could get to the warmer air, the King collapsed off his horse.

“My lord, what is the matter?” a King’s guard said.

“So…..hot,” the King answered.

In a frenzy they took his heavy robes off to get the cold mountain air closer to his body. This was all the plant poison needed to fully bloom and punish the creature who’d damaged its home. At the injection points where the King’s body had been pierced, coin sized patches of skin instantly turned to stone. The King screamed in exhausted pain. Men rushed to his side. “Where is the Scholar?” one of the King’s Guard yelled.

The Scholar was in the mass of people, their traditional white robes hidden by a dark robe of the north, the King’s Guard didn’t notice the scholar in the mass of panic. The King’s screams continued then the Scholar said, “There is nothing I can do here, we have to get the King to a Scholar’s Tower.” The King’s Guard got the King onto a wagon, the Scholar climbed in the back, and the cadre made their way to the closest Scholar's Tower.

“Why are you not doing anything?” one of the King’s Guard yelled at the Scholar.

“I’m watching, there isn’t much I can do without supplies and those are at the Tower. I need to pay attention to what’s happening to the King. There isn’t much to do until we get there,” the Scholar implored.

The rider, grunted with frustration then rode to the front of the column. The pace picked up not long after he finished yelling at the Scholar. The column moved quickly through a wide pass in the mountains. The snowcapped peaks looked cold. Only the wind could be heard. The column was quiet, focused, and moving quickly to save their King. The scream of pain stopped when the King passed out.

The Scholar had not seen anything like this before. He noticed one stone patch on the King’s arm; he watched. Tiny red veins grew from the edges of the stone patch. The King’s skin that wasn’t stone turned wet and clammy. The Scholar placed a hand on the King’s face, he was hot. “Get me some snow!” the Scholar yelled. In the distance they travelled since the King’s collapse, the snow has disappeared.

The King’s Guard told the column to keep moving while a few riders went back to the last snow field.

The Scholar lost hope when he saw the stone patches start to bleed. The once tiny veins were getting larger and the King’s body grew hotter. “I see the Tower!” one of the column members yelled. “We have snow!” a fast-riding King’s Guard called out. The King’s Guard threw the bags full of snow onto the wagon. The Scholar removed as much clothing as he could from the King and placed large balls of snow around the King’s Body.

The King’s Body started to shake violently; quick shallow breaths followed; then a long release of air. In one breath, King’s Cross became Monarch’s Cross. King Ulder was dead. Riders were sent ahead to Monarch’s Cross to deliver the news. The mourning was a month long and the King’s daughter was to prepare to sit on the throne.

* * *

Queen Melandra would soon begin her reign of a realm shocked by the loss of its King. She stood alone in one of the high parks of Monarch’s Cross looking down into the city. The ceremony would begin soon. One of the Queen’s Guard would come to get her when everything was ready. She’d had a month, and she had not been able to process her father’s death. It was sudden, and not one of the Scholars had been able to explain to her what happened. The people were never allowed to see the King’s body. Someone suggested burning the body, they were promptly dismissed, and lucky to be alive as far as Melandra was concerned.

The soon to be Queen would get her answers, but they would have to wait for her tour of the realm. Her agents would lead the investigation and until the Northern Mines were open once more, the investigation would be slow, but answers would come, Queen Melandra would make sure of it.