Half Moon Rising-Chapter 21

Notes:

• So… please correct me if there is anything canonally incorrect. I tried to keep to the basic concept of stuff in the books, but consider that the fall of Anniera and the destruction of castle Rysen probably changed its layout.

• I believe that this is the second to last chapter.

• Who should perform the coronation ceremony? I am leaning toward a Keeper of the First Books who lives on the castle grounds (Andrea, I think that was your idea) because having Bonifer perform the ceremony would be seriously cringe. 😬

• 🤣 this is just funny. After all my writing, my autocorrect tried to tell me to change Anniera to Underwear and it changed Artham to art ham.

• Previous Chapter.

Chapter 21-Strong For You

Four months later…

     The brothers sat together on the old stone bench in the garden as the sun sank low in the sky, relishing the solitude that they shared after a hectic day. The next day was the coronation, and everyone had spent all day, all of the last three months in fact, preparing for it. Artham had tried to keep Esben from getting overloaded and had secretly made sure that his brother would have plenty of time away from preparations and the distraction of councilors that seemed to be everywhere. The closer it got to the coronation, however, the busier things had gotten, including several visits to a multitude of towns and many meetings with town leaders. Artham had barely managed to squeeze this one break into the flurry of activities and preparations. That morning had been the last rehearsal of the ceremony, and Esben had been quiet all day, but he seemed happy enough to go out to the garden with Artham to be quiet some more.

      Artham looked up from his book to realize that Esben was holding his sketchbook but not doing anything with it as he stared into the distance, his pencil useless in his motionless hand.

     “Es,” Artham said quietly, hoping to break his brother’s trance.

     “Ah! Wha-what? Ahem, sorry. What did you say?” Esben jumped but recovered quickly, clearing his throat and trying to pretend that Artham hadn’t startled him. 

     “I didn’t say anything,” Artham said, looking at his brother with concern. “I was just wondering what you were thinking.”

     “Oh, too much stuff to explain,” Esben said, his ‘oh’ coming out as a long sigh as he sank back onto the bench. 

     “Try. Two word summary.”

     “Okay…um, ‘scared’? And…yeah, word two is also ‘scared’. Have you ever wondered what color fear is?”

      “I can safely say I have never wondered that. Let me know when you find out. But why are you scared? I mean, from where I’m looking at things, I’d bet you are pretty scared about tomorrow, it’s official proceedings that will place us in a position of extreme importance,  and everything that that position implies, because I can empathize with your emotions wholeheartedly.” Esben looked up at his brother in a moment of confusion.

     “I’m…guessing that means you're nervous too, because you start talking like a dictionary when you’re stressed out.” Artham laughed.

     “I suppose I do. Anything in particular that is scaring you? I’ll do my best to help with anything.” 

      “Arth, how in Aerwiar am I supposed to do this? I’m going to be King! I-I don’t know how I’m going to do it. I’m so scared of failing everyone.” Esben bent forward on the bench, bowing his head and resting his elbows on his knees, drawing himself in. The gesture made him look small. He was only fifteen, after all, no matter how mature he acted, and an entire country was a lot of weight to place on a fifteen-year-old’s shoulders. Artham scooted himself around on the bench so that he was facing Esben, placing his hands on his shoulders, making his little brother look him in the eye.

      “Neither of us can fulfill everyone’s expectations. Neither of us alone can fill the roles given us. But the  Maker will give us the strength to do what we need to do when we need to do it.”

      “How am I going to be able to handle all of the responsibilities?” Esben seemed to have barely heard Artham. “People are going to be depending  everything they have on the decisions I make! Maybe even their lives! I can’t do that! I can’t be King! Being the Throne Warden comes so naturally to you-”

      “Es, are you kidding me? Being the Throne Warden is the most difficult thing in my life, probably because it’s the most important thing in my life. You have already proved time and again that you are going to be an amazing King.”

       “But-” Esben tried to interrupt and Artham kept talking.

      “And you know what else? You are right. We can’t do it alone. That is why the Maker gave me the most amazing gift in Aerwiar, the gift that has already given me the strength to do this. He gave me you. Listen to me, little brother. He gave us each other. We can’t do it by ourselves. That is why there are two jobs, Throne Warden and High King. That is why you aren’t alone. That is why we are going into this together. Tomorrow I will swear it on the very earth of Anniera, but tonight I swear it to you in the quiet of this garden, away from all witnesses, because I want you to know that I’m not saying it because I have to. I’m saying it because I love you and because I know I am acting in the Maker’s purpose. I will not leave you. My purpose is to be the one you can count on. But Esben, I am not strong.”

      “Then how do you do it?” Esben asked in a husky whisper. Artham breathed deeply and leaned toward his little brother, squeezing Esben’s hands tightly in his warm, rough, sword-worn ones.

      “I can only be strong for you because you are the one who makes me strong.” Artham paused for a moment, and Esben looked up at him in surprise. “You will be an amazing King, I can feel it in my heart. But no matter what happens, you aren’t alone.” Artham pulled Esben toward him and hugged him tight. Esben returned the hug without hesitation.

     “Thank you, Artham. That does make me feel better. A lot.”After a moment the boys pulled away from each other. Esben let out a puff of air and fiddled with the pages of his sketchbook. 

     “It almost feels unreal,” he said.

     “It’s far too real,” Artham responded. “You- um, we should go to bed a little early tonight. Who knows when we will finally get to bed tomorrow. Remember the stories Papa, Mama, and Illia told us about their coronation?” A smile crept onto Artham’s face.  “The celebration lasted through the night and into the evening of the next day. They finally slept, but the festivities continued every day for a week.”

       “It’s going to be huge,” Esben said with a grin. “The party afterward is the one thing I’m looking forward to.” Artham grunted and said flatly, 

       “Yeah, it will be amazing.” Esben rolled his eyes and laughed, standing up and pulling his brother to his feet. 

      “Let’s go home and get some supper,” he said, arranging his sketchbook next to an array of pencils in his satchel. Artham nodded, stooping to pick his book off the bench when Esben set off running. 

      “Race you back!” He hollered over his shoulder.

      “Hey! No fair!”Artham grabbed his book and hurtled down the cobbled path to catch up with his brother. 

* * *

     Artham went about his room, making sure everything was ready for the morning. He half-scowled, half-smiled as he remembered the end of the race. Esben had won, barely, and had gloated about it all the way to the dinner hall. Artham was faster than his little brother, but not as much as when they were kids. With a good head start Esben could beat his older brother. Usually. This annoyed Artham greatly, but he had enjoyed the race. He yawned and reached hesitantly for a book, but drew his hand back, deciding against his usual nightly reading. The next couple of days would be fun for Esben, but they would probably be exhausting for him. He needed all the rest he could get while he still had the chance.  I’d better go check on Esben. He’s probably getting nervous again by now, Artham thought. He went to his brother’s room and frowned when he saw that no light came from under his brother’s door. He stepped inside. The room was empty, and the bed hadn’t been touched.

      Where could he be? Artham wandered around for a while, checking all the usual spots. The kitchen, the art studio, he even went and checked the garden. Esben was nowhere to be found. Then, Artham found himself in a relatively deserted wing of the castle, near the library, in front of the door that led down, beneath the castle, through and beneath the treasury, deeper even than the prison. He ran back to his room and unlocked the top drawer of his dresser, inside of which were many things, including another ring of keys. Each one was ornate and inlaid with gold or silver, a few were studded with gems. Artham ran back to the door, unlocked it carefully, and descended quickly and quietly down the steep stairs, his heart filling with relief when he saw torchlight in the landing below him until he remembered that there was a guard on duty.   

     “Who goes?” The guard called before he saw Artham reach the bottom of the stairs. When he saw Artham he stood at attention, bowing quickly. 

     “Did my brother run through here?” Artham asked.

     “Yes he did, your Highness.” The guard turned and pushed the unlocked door open. Artham said his thanks hurriedly and went down the other flight of stairs. He walked swiftly past the many crests and shields adorning the walls, past the precious things that were locked in boxes and chests lining the walls and the empty armor that stood holding deadly and beautiful weapons. Instead of taking the door at the end of the room which would have led to the main room of the treasury, he stopped halfway into the room and turned to the wall. The plaster and wood around the beautifully carved stone doorway were jagged and chipped, as if they had been broken away, as in fact they had. 

      The door had been hidden for years until Lander Wingfeather, Artham’s great grandfather, had rediscovered it decades before. Artham slowed his steps and gently, quietly, pushed the door open. Inside was the room that never failed to take his breath away. It was the room that held the entrance to the Fane of Fire. Torchlight flickered on the many wonders carved into the walls, but it seemed to Artham that they almost glowed with a light of their own. He chose to believe that they did. Near the center of the room, just outside of the stone circle that held the symbols of Word, Form, and Song, knelt Esben. As Artham stepped into the room,  he felt the always overwhelming and yet wonderful feeling of the Maker’s presence. He could feel the room resonating with the beauty of His being, even though it was only the entrance. He worked to make his steps quiet, treading softly toward his brother, kneeling beside him and putting a hand on his shoulder. Esben knelt with his head bowed and his open hands resting in his lap.

     “You didn’t tell anyone you were coming down here,” He whispered, his voice somehow not breaking the peace that was embodied in silence.

     “No one needed to know. I thought I wanted to be alone.” Esben was whispering too.

     “Oh, I can go if you want me too.” Artham started to stand, but Esben pulled him back down.

     “It’s better with you here. Please don’t go.” Artham nodded and knelt beside his brother, basking in the glory of the Maker’s presence. The future King was preparing for what was ahead as best he knew how, and the Throne Warden was with him to do the same, realizing that he desperately needed a time in which to draw strength from the One who had given him his calling. They knelt side by side for a long time. Artham could feel all his insecurities and faults rising to the surface of his mind, and he wrestled with them one by one, feeling the incredible Presence that was giving him strength to decide on what he knew was right. It took a long time, but he finally felt his heart cleared of everything that was distracting him, and knowing he had made the right decisions, settled down to truly pray. He breathed deeply as he told the Maker about how incapable and unworthy and weak he felt, and begged for the strength to do what he had been placed by his brother’s side to do in the days and years to come. He glanced toward his brother and saw a deep peace settling on his brother’s face, erasing the worried and confused expression. He closed his eyes and opened his heart, knowing that here, over the Fane, what was placed there would be only what the Maker chose, but only if he wanted it. He felt the same peace that was on his brother’s face settling in his heart, and felt growing inside of him a strength that wasn’t his own, putting him at a restful peace in a way that nothing else could, and preparing him for tomorrow.