King Hum
“Ah, I’m already starting to get used to your faces,” Orram said as the two outsiders approached the long flight of steps leading up to the palace. “You still have a few minutes to spare.”
“We might as well be early to meet with a king,” Tera said.
Orram could see both of them were in sour moods, but he didn’t know why. “Something on your minds?” he asked.
“We met your other guest,” Ethan replied. “That Reverend Nidus.”
“Ah, then I see why you’re less than chipper,” Orram said. “Yes, he is an unpleasant fellow, isn’t he?”
“He seems to look down on your people,” Tera said. “Opes. Your king. He said you were ‘savages’.”
Orram’s face became grim, but not surprised. “He has done little to conceal his true feelings about our culture,” he said. “And to think he wants favors from a kingdom he mocks. We must not be too ‘savage’ if his holiness thinks he needs our help.”
“I think he’s dangerous,” Ethan commented.
“He could be,” said the old adviser. “But what can we do? He’s done nothing malicious yet, save try to convert some of our flock.”
“You could stop him,” Ethan suggested. “You could take him prisoner.”
“You want us to attack and kidnap a guest of ours, in our holy city?” Orram asked, astonished. “He may be a snake, but we don’t abuse the trust of those we welcome. Until he does something sinister, he can walk around and make whatever ominous sermons he pleases.”
“Then keep an eye on him,” Tera insisted. “Make sure you can stop him if he ever does decide to do something…‘sinister’.”
“Oh, you can rest assured that we are keeping a close watch on him. As do we for all our guests,” Orram replied. “Now, shall we go inside to the throne room?”
Tera and Ethan thought the temple was ornate, yet it paled in comparison to the palace. The stone was fine and polished, some tiles even marble. The columns that held the place up were just as ornate and beautiful, complete with the same gold-inlaid carvings they saw in the house of worship. Immense tapestries of fine fabric — silk, Ethan guessed — depicted the spirit of God and the Earth, all with vague shapes with no discernible narrative.
Statues lined the great hall, placed lovingly before the tapestries. They could easily have been uniform and simple to complete the regal aesthetic, but each sculpture was remarkably different from the last. Examining the pieces — a man panning for gold in a creak, a Pegasus with its wings spread wide, a bizarre tree with the face of a gorilla — Tera and Ethan could guess they were made by a variety of artists.
The great hall was tied together with a purple rug that stretched the entire length of the room. There were intricate patterns woven into the fabric, but like the tapestries, all the forms were abstract and nonhuman.
“Quite an extravagant place to live,” Tera said. She tried not to put any emphasis in her tone, but based on Orram’s expression, it had been taken as sarcasm.
“The king only abides whatever extravagance the people see fit to have,” the old adviser said. “This palace belongs to all of Opes — not just King Hum.”
“Then why aren’t they sleeping here?” Tera asked. Ethan looked at her like she was digging a hole she didn’t need to dig, but she ignored him. “If this is everyone’s palace, why doesn’t everyone have a seat on the throne? It seems to me like you’re keeping the nice things for yourselves — at least, your king is.”
Orram grew red in the face. “Are you accusing us of hoarding the kingdom’s wealth?” he asked with an indignant tone. “Do you think we leave our people to suffer while we reap the rewards? Tell me, did you see any slums as you explored our city? Any beggars asking you for money?”
Tera, silent, shook her robotic head.
“We live in excess, Ms. Alvarez,” Orram said. “With that excess, the people voted to fund the palace as you see it today. The art, the decor — it was all chosen by the populace. That’s right — we voted on the palace.”
Tera seemed a little admonished as she lowered her gaze, following Orram to the other end of the great hall.
“I — I didn’t realize,” she said. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”
Orram brightened up a little, turning a kindly face to the pair of guests. “It’s quite alright,” he said. “I’m an understanding person. I’ll remember that you’re an outsider not used to our ways, but don’t expect the king to be as lenient. I’d hold your criticisms in his presence — at least, if you want the best results.”
The three of them continued on in silence, the sound of their shoes, sandals, and metal feet echoing through the massive chamber. Once they reached the opposite wall, in which an enormous door was set, Orram turned to face the two guests.
“This is the throne room,” he told them. “Ultimately, King Hum is a wise and compassionate leader. If he has deemed to listen to you, know that he will listen with an open mind. Don’t feel intimidated, you are safe in these walls. I will be there to help should any elaboration be required.”
With that, he opened the large door and gestured for them to lead the way inside. The entrance was large enough to accommodate both Ethan and Tera, shoulder-to-shoulder.
The throne room was much smaller than Ethan imagined. From all his time in fantasy role-playing games and medieval education programs, he expected it to be as large as the great hall. Most monarchs seemed to make their throne rooms an auditorium, vast enough to hold a large number of subjects, who should all be so lucky to be in their leader’s presence. At least, that’s how Ethan had seen it depicted. Instead, the Opesian throne room was little more than a classroom. The throne
