“Start building camps around the city immediately,” the king spoke without breaking his stride. “Every one of these people needs a place to sleep by the end of the night. Offer double pay to anyone who gawks at the task.”
“Yes, your grace,” Orram replied, bowing like one might nod.
“We will be having a vigil first thing tomorrow to honor those who didn’t make it,” King Hum continued. “Make the arrangements.”
“Of course,” Orram said. He didn’t wait for any further orders before making a brisk pace towards the city. Hum stayed back and gazed at the people walking off the ships.
Ethan and Tera emerged together, followed shortly by Gauge. They all stopped beside the young king, who looked like a mummified pharaoh in his wrappings. They didn’t say anything — no words came to them. The people shifted around them like a river around a boulder.
“So many people,” King Hum said in a frail tone. “So many refugees.”
The others remained silent. King Hum sighed, then turned to them.
“You can find shelter in the palace,” he said. “Orram will assist you. Rest. We mourn tomorrow.”
The stars started to fade away into the violet-rose of the dawning sky. The sun hadn’t made its appearance yet.
The mood in the city square was somber. No one chatted with their neighbor as they stood shoulder to shoulder, facing the stage where they had once watched a play performed. The platform was covered in clay lanterns, each painted in their own unique pattern. They stood about two feet tall. Aside from King Hum, they were all that stood on the stage.
“Two-thousand, two-hundred and forty-three lanterns,” King Hum said, his voice booming out over the audience. “Two-thousand, two-hundred and forty-three souls. Four-hundred eighty-nine of those souls were fellow countryfolk; over seventeen-hundred were once strangers who risked everything to rescue me. There are no words to describe such a loss. Everyone here has been affected by this tragedy. We all have a hole in our hearts now that nothing can fill.”
Bowed heads and tear-stained faces were all that met the king’s gaze. His face was cold, his features firm but wrought by emotion. Even though he occupied a mechanical body, he looked aged by grief. Like the polymer that made up his face was faded — rubbed soft.
“We burn a lantern for each loved one we lost yesterday,” he said, gesturing back at the field of clay vessels. He looked back at the crowd with ferocity in his stare. “Losses incurred by the Council of Shell City and the cultists of Reverend Nidus, I might add. This was no misunderstanding. It was a deliberate and calculated attack on everything we stand for. This cannot go unanswered. Therefore, the Holy Kingdom of Opes is declaring war on our attackers.”
A ripple of gasps came from the citizens in the audience. Ethan and Tera met the king’s fierce gaze, and he nodded to them.
“If we do nothing, this tragedy will only mark the beginning of a long line of suffering and death,” the monarch continued. He didn’t blink as he scanned all the faces pointed up at him. “We cannot stand by while crime after crime goes unanswered. If not for the sake of our lives, then for the sake of our souls. This is our defining moment, people. This is when we decide if we will lie down and die, or stand up and fight! I for one will not go down quietly! Who’s with me?”
The audience erupted with cheers. Every man, woman, and child bellowed out their support for the mechanical king.
“Tomorrow, Opes goes to war,” King Hum said once the commotion died down. “Today, we honor those we’ve lost on the path to freedom. Freedom for all people. Today, we ignite the lanterns and bid our friends and family farewell as they begin their journey to join the spirit of God.”
He turned around and nodded to Adviser Orram, who instructed his helpers to begin lighting the lanterns. Even with two dozen workers, the process took several minutes. Everyone remained silent throughout.
Once they were all lit, Hum turned back to the audience and bowed his head. Everyone did the same.
“Farewell,” the king said, his eyes closed. “We will be reunited one day.”
The moment of silence that followed lasted over ten minutes. Every eye was closed shut while the lanterns burned on the stage behind Hum.
He broke the silence by clearing his throat. He opened his eyes as others started to emulate him.
“Though we mourn, we must remember that their spirits are everywhere around us,” King Hum said. “Though that hole in our heart feels empty, they are still there. They have joined the beautiful spirit of our dear Earth and our beloved Lord. This is a joyous thing, and therefore, a celebration is in order. Join me in a feast as we honor the memories of those we’ve lost with fondness! We will be reunited one day!”
“We will be reunited one day!” the crowd echoed.
Despite the end of his speech, King Hum was sullen when Ethan and Tera joined him at his table. His face seemed to lighten up a little as he saw them, but it only lasted a moment. His mechanical features fell back into numb pain as they took seats across from him.
“I’m glad you could join me,” he said, offering them a plate each. When they waved them away, he simply set them on the table. “I know I don’t need to eat, but it still calms me.”
“War on the Council?” Tera said, cutting to the chase.
Hum nodded as he picked up a square of steak. “I see the error of refusing to help you,” he said. “They must be stopped.”
“What’s the next step, then?” Ethan asked. He looked at the meat in Hum’s hand like
