Prologue

“Good citizens of Luna and Earth. I come to you your newly anointed King. It is with a heavy heart that I come to you, just days after the tragic losses that I’ve experienced in my family.”

The sound of his voice makes me sick, lights a fire inside of me. Are his hands still coated in the blood of the one that I loved the most? My memory is fearsome. My mind spins and spins and ends up pointed toward anger, a fire of rage that will set me on a course…where? I am beaten. Who do I have left? I am a fugitive. The fire in my gut starts to die when I think of what has been stolen from me, what was ripped from my hands, what I lost. I want to double over, I want to retch. But then I think of her. Her presence calms me. My brother’s speech continues.

“But I have turned my face towards my new role as King of Luna and Earth. We are embarking on an exciting endeavor. Our glorious kingdom will stand for a thousand generations. But we mustn’t limit ourselves to the horizons of Luna and Earth. The Belt, the Galilean Moons, Mars and its satellites, all provide new opportunity for all of us. New lands, new monies, new sources of power. The Four Families will prosper! For us to extend our reign, the influence of the Gilded Throne, I will have your help, the help of the common man. I know that your lives have been hard, that you are oppressed by labor and toil. But that has gifted you with the sternest of spines. You are stronger than us…softer men and women. That is why from the desk of my office comes my first edict as King of our two great orbs, the Conscription Act. All men, age sixteen to thirty will be collected tonight to serve in our solar army. You will join my armadas and form the greatest strength we have ever seen in honor of my father and my brother. I know this is a great sacrifice on your behalf and my heart is with all of you. Say your goodbyes to your families. Gather the essentials. Your destiny is with me in the stars.” 

Greysen finishes his speech in his typical dramatic fashion. He not only will steal from me. He will steal from the common man. He will take their workforce, the men that feed them.The town is in chaos. Grief strikes the faces that I see pass by. People are running though the streets, looking for their loved ones, deciding whether to hide or to pack. He wants to do this in my honor, in the honor of my father? I’ll show him honor. I’ll show him power. But what power do I have left, me, the would be King?

Part One: Loss

Chapter 1: Blood

“Where do they all go?” A small voice says. I swim to the edge of the small pool in the center of the room, catching my breath.

“What do you mean, son?” I ask.

“The stars. Where do they all go during the day?”

I smile. Of course his little mind would hatch a question like that. “Well my boy, they certainly all have very important engagements to get to during our daytime. But every night they return, just for you and me, to light our way.”

He comes closer to the pool, clearly wanting to further his inquiry. He leans on one of the great stone columns in the room, putting learned nonchalance into all of his four and a half feet of height.

“Is that true Father?” He asks.

Really can’t get anything past this seven year old. “You must have gotten your grandfather’s powers of deduction Nash. No, it’s not true. The stars don’t go anywhere, it’s just that our sun’s light is too bright and we can no longer see them. Sometimes life is the same son.” I sense an opportunity for one more lesson before today’s events. “One thing becomes more important than all else, outshining everything. That is how our lives are, you and me. This day marks a change for us. We must focus our attention on how we behave in our new roles, and that may take our time away from other pursuits. But you know all of this, don’t you?”

He’s got his hands stuffed in the pockets of his tunic now, biting his lower lip, clearly still in thought. I let go of the edge of the pool and let myself float on my back. I look up at the ornate ceiling. Light spills in from the giant stained glass window set in the stone. It makes all of the polished stone pillars in the room glimmer with blue light.

“I’m afraid too,” I say.

“You are?” Nash asks.

“Of course I am. To be a prince is one thing. To be King. Well, that changes everything,” I reply. “But my father prepared me for this, just as I will prepare you, Prince Nash”.

I pull myself out of the pool, grabbing my towel to dry off. The floors sense my movement and the lights switch from a relaxing dim hue to something a little brighter. I pull on a simple tunic and pants.

“Now, time for some important kingly duties” I say. “Football.”

—

After our game, we walk through the open air courtyards of the castle. Greenery grows along the walls of blue-grey stones and weaves together like a tapestry on the guardrails. I run my hand through it, keeping the other on Nash’s shoulder as we walk on the second level. Light has grown harsh with the midday sun.

Ahead of us walks a small entourage, some knights, some courtiers, and several sorely missed faces.

“Brother!” I call out, running ahead of Nash. “I didn’t think you’d make it!”

“Come now Lucian! This is a day long to be remembered! My troubles out in the Gas Giants couldn’t keep me away.” I pull Greysen close, out of Nash’s ear.

“Kaelyn. Where is she? I haven’t seen her since you’ve been back,” I ask. His face grows concerned.

“Not feeling well I’m afraid.” He finds a smile now. “Nothing to worry about. Just good to be home!” Something’s off. Maybe it’s just a small marital spat. None of my business.

“Nash, come say hello to your Uncle Greysen!” I say. The boy comes running over, grinning ear to ear. The two embrace, and I notice a bit of awkwardness coming from Grey. He never has been good with kids.

“Hello little man. Or should I say, my Liege?” Greysen falls into a mock bow. “You out rank me now, my boy. I’m just spare parts.”

I appraise my brother. He’s already dressed for the occasion, a dark tunic and pants tucked into polished leather boots. Over the tunic he wears formaSteel armor, a vambrace on the left arm, shoulder guards on the left shoulder. They too have been polished so that the formaSteel shines.

“Speaking of spare parts brother, where is that droid of yours?” Greysen continues.

“Dansby? Ah, probably soaking himself in some luxurious oil bath. He takes these formal occasions seriously.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want him to miss the coronation! Especially the second course,” Greysen says, a bit of play in his voice.

“What’s on the menu for the second course?” I ask.

“I hope its not more squid,” Nash chimes in.

I pat him on the head and place an arm on his shoulder. “My son, if I’m sure of anything in this life, it’s that there will certainly be plenty of squid on the menu! Our family can’t seem to get enough Earth food these days.”

Greysen waits for us to finish. “Well, just be sure that everyone is there.” He’s grown serious now.

“Brother, it is my coronation as King of Earth and Luna. It is law that all be in attendance,” I remind him. His demeanor is strange. I knew this day would be hard for him, hard for him not to feel left out, extra. His role is largely ceremonial as second born. He doesn’t have the physical or theoretical training that I have. People know his name, yes, but a legion of knights chant mine. Surely his demeanor is just a reflection of all of that baggage. 

We part ways with my brother and his group. Nash and I walk through the halls of the palace, still with hours to go before coronation time. The granite halls are lined with images of our family, faces long gone dating back to the Fall of Earth and the Rise of our family to power. Soon my face will find its place here, somewhere next to my Father’s.

Our family home has always felt too large to me, like it was meant for more than just our family. But I can certainly watch Nash run though its halls endlessly. He walks beside me now. I can sense that he’s nervous about our destination. At the end of the ornate hall there is a large set of wooden doors, flanked by two brightly dressed guardsman of the First Guild of Chivalry. As I approach, they stiffen and bow.

“My liege,” they say, stomping their ceremonial staffs into the floor. Finally, they open the doors.

We enter the room and are met with nearly blinding light. Windows fill the walls from floor to ceiling. Tapestries hang from the ceiling, blue and silver, our house’s colors. On the wall is a large vitrine containing our family’s most prized possessions. Lounging on a chaise in the center of the room is the figure I’ve come to see.

“Father!” I call out.

He turns, putting down the digiPad he was consulting. “My son! Is Nash with you?” He asks.

“Here I am grandfather!” The boy runs to his grandfather and bends to one knee, bowing his head. The older man raises the boy to his feet and wraps him in an affectionate hug. My father is nearly one hundred years old, yet he’s as fit as someone in their fifties.

“My boy, today is quite the day for you!” My father says.

“Grandfather, what becomes of you after today? Father says you’re leaving Luna for Earth. But you can’t leave Grandfather! Who will teach me how to paint, and hunt, and ride horses?” You can hear the pleading in Nash’s voice.

“Me? Leave Luna? I wouldn’t think of such a thing! But I must go to Earth for a spell. There are peace negotiations to conduct. That seems like grunt work for a former King, not a reigning one.” He meets my eyes with those words.

“Hello Father,” I say finally in greeting. I steal a look around the room, hoping to get a better look at that digiPad that he was working on. The room is blanketed in opulence. Platinum trims white stone everywhere I look. The deep blue chaise in the center of the room is the sole soft spot on which to sit. Though my Father has always had an easy going demeanor, he projects a hard edge to all his visitors, those few who can gain access to his private sitting space.

There’s a glare from a window, so I can’t make out what’s on the screen of the digiPad. My father notices my glances.

“Just ask, my Liege. After today, this will all be your problem,” he says. It’s the first time he’s called me that. This will be the second time in our family history that a king has ascended to the throne before the death of the previous monarch. There’s been some question as to whether or not I will truly be ‘his liege’.

“It’s not important” I say, brushing it off. “I’m just anxious, as much for myself as I am for Nash. By tradition, he takes my place as Knight Commander of the Order of our house, Elwyne. He’s only seven, father. Surely it’s too young to begin the training. I was twice his age when the responsibility passed on to me. I’ve been thinking of offering it to Greysen. He’s still young enough, he could catch up to my level of physical training. Let the boy, I don’t know, just be a boy.” I look at Nash. He’s occupied himself looking at the contents of the vitrine. His fingerprint and facial scan allowed him access to open it. Now he plays with the scepter, making himself king for the moment.

My father motions for me to sit on the chaise next to him. His voice is low like a soft purr when he speaks. “Son, you of all people know it must be him. He will one day be king, just like this day will make you so. Tell me, do you fear because he is not of our blood?”

My anger spikes. I speak through clenched teeth, a whisper growl so that Nash will not hear. “Never say that again.” I look to my son, now with the crown on his head. “How could you ever think that blood matters to me? That boy is my life. He is an Elwyne by as much right as I am.”

“Calm down, my boy. I meant nothing by it. You know I love him like a son of my old age”.

I feel restless. The coronation can’t come soon enough. After I calm down, I remember why I came to see my father. “Please reconsider Father. Why not just retire from public life? Abdication is such a drastic step.” I look at all the trappings of wealth filling the room. “Can you really tire of a life as Monarch?”

He grows pensive. There’s something he’s not telling me. “Son, I’ve kept most of my work a secret from you. Better for you to work on your chivalric duties, your fencing. But you will have much to balance, many mouths to feed, some with bigger, sharper teeth than others. There is something coming. I can feel it. Our control over space travel is not as strong as it has been in the past. My father weakened us by allying our house with the Fynn Corporation. He should never have shared our secrets with those low-borns.”

“What power could they ever hold over us? The ability to travel the solar system comes from our family’s technology. This is how we came to power. This is why we rule. All mining runs through our hands. All colonization. Every lunar and planetary governor would be nothing more than a stranded interloper if it were not for us. So what that we outsource the building of ships to Fynn? What aren’t you telling me?” I probe deeper because I know he holds back even at this late hour.

“Fynn has somehow managed to stockpile forty percent of all available liquid hydrogen and an undetermined amount of liquid oxygen cryogenic propellants.” There’s a look of fear in his eyes as he speaks the words.

“That makes them a threat,” I say.

“That is where your brother has been these past months. I sent him on an official visit as a show of our superiority and strength. His report showed some abnormalities, but the true nature of their duplicity still was not revealed. This is why I must abdicate. I am failing. You are stronger than I am. I have made,” he fades off for a moment, “concessions in my reign. I have not always wielded the strongest of swords. You can reign them in, bring them to heel. I will be around to support you son, but it must be your strong hand that rules. Earth needs you as much as Luna does. The Four Families will support you. Your son will always be there for you, much like mine has been for me.” He smiles softly at that. There’s a sadness behind the smile, and I know he’s thinking of Mother. She’s been gone for years but it still feels like yesterday that she sat on that blue chaise and told me how much she wanted a grandchild and how I needed to find a nice woman so I could give her one. She would laugh at how much Nash is like her.

My father thinks I am strong because of my martial ability, but the truth is that I’m more like Mother, soft, soulful.

“Nash!” I call. “Put the scepter back, take off the crown, and come say goodbye to your grandfather.”

The boy runs over, a golden key swinging on a chain around his neck. He bows deeply at the waist. “Goodbye grandfather!” He hugs the old man. “I love you!”

“Goodbye my boy. I love you. And I see that you found my secret key!” My father says.

“Nash, better put that back where you found it,” I say.

“No, no. You keep it little prince. If ever we are apart, use it to remember your old grandfather.”

“Come on son,” I say. “Time for us to get ready.”

Chapter 2: Son

I finish dressing Nash in his finery, and he appraises himself in the mirror. He wears a white tunic to match mine, trimmed in our royal blue with platinum buttons. There’s a sword at his left hip, complete with an ion charged blade. I objected to giving a seven year old a deadly weapon, but apparently you have to actually be king to make changes to the coronation procedure.

I wear a matching outfit, though my left breast is decorated with all of the badges of my position. Most prominent is the navy blue owl, the symbol of our house. I wear no weapon. That will come later. They left me boots to wear, but I prefer my combat boots. I’m pulling those on when Nash comes over.

“Father, are you alright?” He asks.

“Just fine! Why do you ask?”

“You look worried is all.”

“Well, I guess that’s because I am son. I’ve never been a king before. There are things that I must do that I don’t know if I’m ready to do. I know to you that I must seem dreadfully old, but in reality I’m only twenty-five. That’s quite young for such a big responsibility. But I have a feeling that I can count on you. Am I right?”

“Of course!” He thinks for a long minute. He reaches into his tunic and pulls out the chain that he’s wearing around his neck. The key from my father is there, but he’s added something else too. He takes it off and hands it to me. “I want you to have this,” he says.

I take the chain. Next to the golden key is the golden feather I gave him when he was a baby and came in to my life. Gold, not the platinum so in vogue with my house. I wanted something that could be just for him.

“Nash, this belongs to you.” I’m nearly speechless at his thoughtfulness.

“It always will! I’m only letting you borrow it. That way when I’m off training, I’ll always be there with you.”

I put the chain around my neck and tuck it in to my shirt. The feeling of the metal on my chest fills me with more confidence than I know how to describe.

“Nash I have to tell you something.” He grows serious. “The reason that you don’t have a mother is not because she died when you were born, or that she left. It’s a shame I’ve gone seven years without telling you this. But you aren’t my blood born son. When you were a tiny infant, someone dropped you off at the entrance to the palace in a wicker basket. The servants wanted to leave you outside. But I saw you and immediately loved you. I was a boy at the time. Eighteen. But that didn’t matter. Since then, you’ve been nothing less than my son. I love you more than anything. You are the greatest gift I have ever been given. Greater than the kingship. Greater than my own birthright into this family. I’m sorry that I never told you sooner son.”

“Father. I know. Your skin is brown, but a different kind of brown than mine. Your hair is curly, mine is straight. I’ve heard you and Grandfather talking,” he laughs. He always has been a perceptive boy. “I didn’t know where I came from, but it’s never really mattered. You’re the best father I could ask for.” His small voice is so confident.

I don’t deserve such high praise. But I take it and tuck it away in a corner of my heart for when I’ll need it.

There’s a knock at the great wooden door leading into my quarters.

“Enter!” I call.

“My liege, it is time,” a soft voice says.

“Thank you Wesley. We’ll be on our way.”

Chapter 3: Ceremony

The great hall of the palace is buzzing with excitement. At the opposite end of the room sits my father at the top of the five great stairs on the raised platform against the wall. Flanking him is every ranking member of our house, aunts and uncles, cousins. At his right hand is my brother. Good. He should be honored on this day as well.

There are rows of seats on either side of a great royal blue carpet. I will be walking that carpet soon. People stand amongst the seats, idling in conversation. Nash stands at my side. I put my hand on his shoulder, knowing how anxious he gets in social situations.

Servants mill about. They wear black vests and bow ties. It almost looks strange, seeing them dressed up like this. I’m so accustomed to their typical simple, sometimes drab, garb. They’re Earth-born, most of them at least. A few hail from Mars, certainly none from the Gas Giants. While they’re all here together it’s hard not to notice that they largely all have the same complexion as Nash. Of course, some are much darker than me even, their ebony skin a beautiful difference.

In stark contrast are the aristocracy, the members of my family, and their power hungry aids. Each dresses in brightly colored formal wear with ridiculous headpieces. What’s the word to describe them? Peacocking. Pitiful. They clamor up to me, pulling at my jacket sleeves, begging for a moment of my time, a listening ear. I hold Nash’s hand extra tightly.

These sycophants are so different from the common people who serve us. They’re fat yet unsatisfied. Greed drives them. They do not see me as a person, this day as a triumph for our family. All they see is a younger, perhaps more amenable King who can funnel more monies into their pockets.

Somehow I feel more at home with the servants than I do with these fools. Perhaps it is because I’m a military man, used to being strict with myself, being deprived from a lack of rations, serving a greater purpose. Or perhaps it is because I am a father and I couldn’t care less about money, fame, or power. All I care about is my boy.

I pull away from the aristocracy and find a quiet corner of the room. I look to Nash. He still holds my hand, tight as ever. There’s a strange look on his face.

“What’s wrong?” I ask

“Nothing father,” he replies. I don’t believe him.

“Come on, tell me.” He thinks for a long while.

“I don’t much like it here father. It was better when you and I were by ourselves kicking the ball around this morning.”

Now it’s my turn to think. “Can I tell you a secret son?” His eyes look at me intently. “I don’t much like it here either.”

“I don’t want things to change.” He’s nearly on the brink of tears. I feel a knot form in my throat.

“Neither do I son. But I need you to be strong for me. You will be safe. You will still be loved. Just because we will be apart for most of the year does not meant that I will love you any less. I will miss you terribly, but when you return just imagine how sweet that will be! You are my light and my life. I wouldn’t send you away for your training if I didn’t think it was the right course of action. I need you to trust me. Can you do that?”

He nods his head yes. Maybe I will reconsider giving the post to Nash. Maybe Greysen would be better suited for it.

I scan the crowd for my droid, Dansby. He always puts Nash in a good mood, but he’s no where to be found. Strange. Maybe he’s still sitting in an oil bath. I’ll have to give him a reharmonization once I’m king. He won’t be able to say no.

“My liege!” A voice comes from behind me. I turn to see Royce Lindone, Chairman of the Fynn Corporation.

How presumptuous of him to approach me. 

“Hello!” I greet him cheerfully, minding what my father told me earlier. “How do you do Royce? Have you met my son?”

“Ah, I’m doing splendidly, my liege. Of course that’s all due to your family’s great patronage. And no, I do not believe I have had the honor my liege!” He bows too deeply at the waist in the direction of Nash. “I wanted to be the first to offer my congratulations, of course, not just from me, but from all of the Fynn corporation. We know that just like your father, you will be an ardent supporter of our space faring program.”

I extend my hand to shake his. When he takes my hand, I don’t let go. I have a fencer’s grip and I hold him in it. “Well you must know Royce, that I am and always have been by nature of my position, a man of the sword. That discipline requires a firm grip,” I say, squeezing tighter, “and determination. I intend to bring both to all aspects of my reign.” I level my eyes with his. It’s then that I see it. The small smirk despite the increasing pressure of my hand. The little ‘I have no need of you’ look in his eyes. It’s there before the small wince of pain comes as I squeeze with all my strength and break his fifth metacarpal. My father was right. I let go of the man’s hand. “Shake the man’s hand Nash. Royce Lindone, meet Crown Prince Nash Elwyne, Knight Commander of the First Chivalric Order of the Owl House.”

The man leaves nursing his wound. People begin taking their seats. The nerves start to set in. I hear music start to play, an electroHarp and some other instruments I don’t recognize. It is the battle song of house Elwyne, a tune of mournful minors and dramatic peaks. It’s led my ancestors into conflict and controversy for a thousand years. Now, it leads me down the long royal blue carpet towards my father and family.

I do my best to keep my vision fixed forwards. It’s a challenge with so many eyes on me. Small spherical droids, holoCams, float around me and Nash. They broadcast our image to all of Luna and Earth. Here on Luna, those of my family not in attendance will watch from their royal residences. At Fynn Corps, barracks full of conscripted workers will see people huddled around holo image projectors, HIP’s. On Earth, the Four Families will host galas of their own in honor of my coronation and as an excuse to get drunk. Working families will gather in town squares to watch the event, crammed in close around ancient HIP’s. Maybe even the colonies will care enough to watch. My stomach turns at the thought of someone even on Pluto seeing me as I walk now.

Nash walks like a grown man next to me, both of his hands resting on the hilt of his sword. We walk, step for step, together down the carpet until we reach the first step. Nash stops. I continue forward. I go up one step. Then another. It’s so silent in the room. My boots are dreadfully loud on the stone steps. My heart thuds in my chest and I’m certain that the entire room can hear it. Three more steps and I stand face to face with my father. He stands dressed in finery. So many medals festoon his tunic’s breast that they can’t be counted. Unlike me, he wears a half cape flickering off his right shoulder. In his right hand he holds our family’s scepter. On his head he wears a platinum diadem that sits on his head like a headband.

He taps the staff on the ground three times. Clang! Clang! Clang! When the silence becomes too much to bear, he speaks.

“I am Osmond Elwyne, King of Luna and Earth, Seventh of my line. I have reigned for sixty-five years, and now I stand before you, ninety-eight years old, a widower. I will never tire of serving you peoples of these two orbs. But I believe you will be better served by younger hands, stronger hands. So it is with great sorrow that I abdicate the Gilded Throne. As my last act as king, I divest all of my kingly power and authority into the strong hands of my son, Lucian Elwyne who stands here before me.” He taps the staff onto the ground once with a note of finality. Then he raises both of his arms to his side.

Attendants come rushing in. With gloved hands, they unfasten the cape from his shoulder. They hook it to mine. Off with the diadem. Onto my head it goes. Finally, my father kneels before me, offering me the scepter laid out in both of his hands. I think of my first memories of my father, him carrying me on his shoulders through the halls of the palace, teaching me to read, and paint, and ride horses. All of the times that I’ve knelt before him in public as my sovereign first, my father second. Will it be that way with Nash now?

I take the scepter and lift my father to his feet. I meet his eyes and he gives me a small smile. I try to meet my brother’s gaze, but he won’t meet my eyes. That was selfish of me. This day is a sullen one for him. I turn back to the crowd. The show isn’t done.

“My hands are weak. Who will strengthen them by leading my forces?” I call out by tradition.

Nash goes to both of his knees and pulls his sword. “I will my liege! Let me make you strong.” He says the words I did years ago. He’s so young, voice so small. He should be off riding horses and painting with his fingers and running in the grass with other children.

He climbs the stairs. When he reaches the platform, I pin a navy blue owl to his chest. I press a toggle at the grip of the scepter. The end opposite the golden orb changes from a blunt end into a fencer’s blade, the orb becoming a pommel. “Kneel” I say. I tap the blade on his shoulders, knighting him.

“Rise, my son” I say by rote. I turn him to face the audience. I raise my blade into the air, he raises his. The crowd breaks into applause.

Chapter 4: Gone

We sit at a long table, one course into a celebratory banquet feast. I sit at the head of the table. I’m not used to the weight of the diadem or the feeling of the scepter retracted into a small cylinder at the small of my back. Servants buzz around clearing dishes and readying us for the next course. Squid.

Nash sits next to me, my father across from him. It’s hard to know what to say when so much has changed between us after just one ceremony.

“The bread is good,” I say.

My father laughs a hearty laugh. “Isn’t it? Thanks for not keeping me on my knees too long son.”

“Of course. Nicely done son,” I say.

“Thanks father. Where’s Uncle Greysen? I wanted to see him before I have to leave for training tomorrow.” Nash looks around the table for his uncle. So do I, but he’s no where to be found. I need to talk to him, to offer him the position.

I look around to find Wesley, my personal valet. I find the well put together man by the bar. I motion for him to come over. He’s a man in his sixties and by the stars he might actually look better than me today. “Wesley! You look fantastic!” I say.

“Why thank you sir. Is there anything I can do for you?” He says.

“Have you seen my brother? By chance could you locate him for us? Let him know that the Crown Prince is looking for him. Thank you.” I give a little wink to Nash.

Minutes go by, and Wesley does not return. I’m starting to worry. Greysen is a man of moods and I worry that he’s retired for the night. Security is tight for the event, and each family member is assigned an armed escort. If I can find Greysen’s escort, I can find him.

I make my way around the banquet hall, checking the perimeter for the guard. Nothing. I brush off would be conversations and glad handers. In fact, for all the family that’s here, there are no guards at the perimeter where they would normally be. I see some mixed in with the crowd in plain clothes. They’re easy enough to pick out by their posture and the bulge of the blasters at their hips.

I’ve made my way halfway around the room, nearing the far exit. Finally, coming through the door, I see my brother.

“Brother!” I call out. I catch his attention. “Come, the little prince wants your company.”

He still won’t meet my eyes for more than a second. “Yes, my liege,” he says in hushed tone. Something is wrong. I put my hand on his chest and motion for him to stop.

“Grey, is everything okay?”

He looks me dead in the eye. “Of course,” he says, short, nothing extra.

“I want you to know that above all we are brothers,” I say. “I may be king, but to me, we are equals.”

“Do you mean that?” He asks with intention.

“With every fiber of my being. Grey, I’ve been thinking. I want you to take Nash’s position. Knight Commander should go to you, he’s simply too young.”

He smiles, brightening for a moment. “Let’s go see about that little prince.”

Nash beams when he sees Greysen approach. “Uncle Grey!” Greysen gives a little half smile, even more awkward around my son now that he out ranks him in our family. “Father,” Greysen greets my father. Tension. “Those were quite the festivities today boys. Can’t say that I’m disappointed that I didn’t have a bigger role.”

“You played your part perfectly son,” my father says.

“Hmm, yes. The ‘stand there and be silent’ role. I was born for it.”

“Come now son. Have a glass of wine, celebrate!”

My father snaps his fingers and a servant comes over with a decanter of red wine and three glasses. Placing the glasses on the table, he carefully pours from the decanter, filling each. I take one for myself, as do my father and Greysen. Father is in an unusually chipper mood. Perhaps he has already let go the weight of being King now that it rests on my shoulders. I certainly feel it.

Greysen sips at his wine. His demeanor is strange. He puts on a happy face but there’s something disingenuous about it. He’s uncomfortable. He acts like he doesn’t belong here.

“How’s the wine son?” My father asks.

“Oh, splendid father. Splendid. Tell me, during your reign, did you ever censure Fynn corporation?” Greysen asks.

My father is taken aback by the suddenness of the question, by the talk of family business here in public. “No, but I’ve been keeping my eye on them for years now.”

“Keeping your eye on them. And what has your eye seen? Corruption? Hoarding of resources? The raising of an army? Did that and my report not move you to action?”

“You are not sovereign son. You do not understand the juggling act that is performed every day.” 

I keep quiet in all of this.

“Uncle Grey, do you want to see my sword?” Nash asks.

“Later, my boy. First, I have a question for our new King. How will you handle my findings from my time at Fynn?”

“A strong hand. A guiding grip. Not too firm of course, lest they start to eek out.”

“Ah, a strong hand. This hand?” He grabs my right hand and raises it into the air. Time seems to slow down. I know something is happening, my danger sense is alerted. I find Nash, my Father. Before I can react, there’s a rumbling. Glasses on the table start to shake, plates slide from their place. I know that sound. Military grade flightBoots. Dozens of them. I look all around for the threat and see nothing. I catch my brother’s eye. He looks up.

I follow his gaze. It looks like the ceiling is crumbling. I realize what I’m looking at too late. At least fifty men and women in holographic armor are beginning to fall from the ceiling. Their armor had been mimicking the look of the ceiling. They start to fall all around my gathered family. All of my family, at least everyone of consequence. Thump! Thump! Thump! Glasses break under foot and tables break in two as men and women in one hundred kilograms of powered armor come falling from the sky.

I carefully make my way over to Nash. I look to my brother. “What is this?” I demand.

He smiles. Its the first genuine smile he’s given all day. “This, dear brother, is a coup.” He looks to our father. “You were right. Your hands are too weak to rule father. But you chose the wrong son.”

I loop my hands under Nash’s arms. “You can’t seriously hope to hold control of the palace with fifty soldiers. My men will be here in five minutes time, one thousand strong. More than that, we have ships in orbit, men on the ground. They are all loyal to me.”

“Royce, where are you? Stop flitting about and get over here.” Greysen looks for the older man. Royce comes sauntering up. He looks like a child who was just gifted a puppy. “Explain to the good and slow people the situation they find themselves in.”

“My liege,” Royce says in mock seriousness. “You will find that all your arms and armaments are now our arms and armaments. When Greysen came to us all those months ago I offered to him what he’s always wanted, and he gave me the opportunity to become ridiculously wealthy and powerful. We have technology at Fynn to make hyper obedient conscripted laborers, to drain the will out individuals, to steal their individuality so to speak. We used our technology to make your army ours. We used your fuel to create ships for ourself. Our armadas are larger than what you have ever had. It was all your doing Osmond. I should thank you for sending your son to us to lend us legitimacy. Now you, Lucian. Your personal guard? Dead, marooned, gone. Now King Greysen and I will rule as co-regents.” This draws a look from Greysen.

“Now, little Nash. How about you let me see your sword?” Greysen says.

Nash tightens up under my hands. He shakes his head no. “Give him the sword,” I say. I know what’s coming next. Royce doesn’t see it. No one does. I hate that I’m about to let it happen, but I need to see this play out. The odds are just better this way.

Nash unsheathes the sword and Greysen takes it greedily. Greysen runs his finger along the length of the blade, cutting his finger on the tip, sucking the blood off his fingertip. He approaches Royce.

“Thank you for being the first to bestow the honorific ‘King Greysen’, old friend. You are correct, we shall become more powerful than my family has ever been. But you were wrong about one thing. I share with no one.”

Greysen buries the blade into Royce’s gut. He draws close to the man. He speaks in a whisper growl. “You were always a fool. Your corporation diluted the power of my family, my birth right. Your stockpile of liquid helium is now mine. I reunite the power of Elwyne and Fynn. All is one. All is mine. Go to your grave knowing that in the end, you amounted to nothing.” Greysen pulls the blade out of his belly. Royce collapses to the ground, his breath wet with blood. Soon it goes quiet.

I covered Nash’s eyes. But he’ll know what happened. What next? Think. He’ll have to consolidate his power, do something with all of the family members. He has the martial might, yes, but we still out number them three to one. I don’t care what happens to them. I just need to find a way to get Nash to safety.

“So what now, brother?” I ask.

“Well you said it. You view us as equals. Give me your crown.”

I do. I take off the crown, fresh on my head, and toss it over to him. My hands return to their spot holding Nash.

“How could you do this? We’ve shown you nothing but love, given you nothing but dignity.” I press him for answers.

“I’ve been second my entire life, everything done at the whim of a senile father or for the glory of the more powerful brother. Now, I’ve done what neither of you would be able to. I’ve combined the might of our house with the might of our only rival. I will have a kingdom that lasts an infinite number of generations. I will spread my sovereignty across the system. I will drain the planet’s resources into my coffers and those of the Four Families. My children will carry this sword. I will be the greatest king that Luna and Earth have ever—,” My father cuts him off.

“You are not my son."

“Excuse me? What did you say old man?” He motions to a soldier to come to him.

“You are not my son. You have been a disappointment from the time you were young. You never got the point of all of this, of this family. You are fourth greatest in the solar system. Yet that could never be good enough for you.”

Greysen takes a blaster pistol from the soldier at his side. “You’re right”. He shoots my father in the chest. “It’s not good enough”.

My grip on Nash becomes a vice. I rocket into the air on the power of my flightBoots. I fly at reckless speeds towards the exit. There’s a guard stationed at the archway leading out of the banquet hall. I hear my brother shouting at his guards to pursue us, the sound of their boots coming to life. I grip Nash with one hand and grab the scepter from behind me. I extend it into a meter and a half of killing metal. Down goes the guard and I’m through the exit.

I find myself in an open air corridor, the same one that I met Greysen on earlier today. I hover in the air to quickly survey my options. There’s a courtyard and garden below straight ahead over the railing. Down the corridors there are balconies leading out into the night. One of those is our best bet.

“You okay kid?”
“Yes father!”

I kick my feet and build up speed toward the balcony. Just before I reach the point where the hallway narrows, a dozen of my brother’s soldiers come bursting out behind me. He’s with them.

“On the ground!” He yells.

I turn and see a dozen blasters and stunBlades pointed at me. I hold on to Nash and lower us to the ground. I put the boy behind me and brandish my sword toward my opponents. Twelve on one is a stretch, but I’ve faced steeper odds.

“I’ll give you all a chance to yield now and save your lives!” I shout. None do.

“You are a vaunted warrior brother,” Greysen says, laughing. “You don’t have to die. Just come to heel. Do my bidding, and there will be a limited place for you in all of this.”

“In a cell?” I ask. “You’re a disgrace.” I haven’t even had a chance to process what happened to father. Is he alive? What is happening? Just two hours ago I was the most powerful person alive and now I’m enfeebled.

“Come now Lucian. I’ll visit you. It will be nice, you and Nash will have a window view.” The mention of my son’s future being in a cage breaks something inside of me. I turn back to Nash.

“Make yourself small,” I say. “Who fought with me in the American Uprising?”  Four troopers raise their hands. “Who trained with me in Asia?” Three more. “Who fights with me now?” Let’s see what weight my kingship still has.

Four soldiers turn on their compatriots, opening fire. I reach to my belt and activate my plasmaShield, an energy field that covers my entire body in a faint purple glow, making myself impervious to blaster fire. I fire on my boots and launch myself into the fray.

I land amongst four soldiers. My blade flashes. I cut off the ends of blasters, exchange moves with stunBlades. My blade quickly finds tendons and muscles, incapacitating my enemies. My new allies take out the other four troops. That leaves my brother. I point my blade at him.

“Yield.”

“I think not,” he says. Fifty troops rise from the courtyard below. I turn to Nash.

“Run!” I shout. He takes off down the corridor toward the balcony. I engage with the fresh troops, trying to fight my way free, trying so hard to get to my son because he’s running into a dead end without my boots.

I turn and see Nash reach the balcony. His eyes catch mine. He doesn’t know what to do. Then a trooper drops to the ground in front of the hallway leading to the balcony. He has a frag grenade in his hand. He sees Nash. He launches the grenade.

“No!” I scream. I cut down three troopers to get free. I activate my boots and reach the hallway. I’m so close to Nash. Ten meters. Five. One meter away. I can almost reach out and grab him when BOOM! The grenade goes off. I’m thrown against the wall. My vision goes blurry. When it clears, I can’t see the balcony. I forget my boots and run the length of the hallway only to find that I can’t see the balcony because it’s gone.  I look down to the ground and it’s there in rubble.

“No, no, no, no.” I can’t think straight. Where is my son? “Nash! Nash!” I float down on my boots. I launch myself at the rubble pile. I paw at the fractured pieces of the balcony. I’m sure I have a concussion from the blast. I can’t be seeing straight. Can’t be thinking straight. This can’t be real.

Then it becomes all too real. I see his hand, sticking out of the wreckage. There’s a lump in my throat and I can’t breathe. I’m dizzy. I want to throw up, but my boy is down there. I have to get to him. Tears stream down my face. I grab the hand. “Nash, buddy. It’s me. It’s your dad.”

Nothing. I start grabbing at the rubble on top of him. I start uncovering his little body. The first time I see blood on the stone my heart drops. “Nash, come on son, if you hear me, please wake up.”

I hear a noise to my left. My brother approaches with his retinue of troops. I don’t care. I won’t let them get to my son. I rip away the stones until I can free his body from them. I cradle him in my arms. He’s so light. So lifeless. I lay him on the ground, clearing the hair from his face. It’s barely recognizable from all the cuts  and bruises.

“Wake up son.” A sob rips up from my throat. The words won’t even come out. My boy. I feel for any sign of life. “Nash, please.” No breath. No pulse. He’s gone. My little prince. My greatest gift. I feel strange. Rage. Sorrow. Anguish. I feel like I want to laugh. It’s absurd. He can’t be gone. If I know anything, it’s that I’ll always have my boy.

I cradle his head, pulling him close. He’ll never grow old. Never wear the crown. He’ll never ride horses again, or paint, or read his favorite stories. I’ll never hear his voice from down the hall again, his laughter coming when we kick the ball around. He’ll never become the man that he would have been. He’s been stolen from me.

I reach down my shirt and pull out his chain with the key and the feather. The key for my father. The feather for my son. Both pillars of my life gone. I let the chain fall. I bend and kiss my son on the forehead. Birds sing even at this late hour in the trees above. Skylarks. The stars are out, the sky is clear. It really is beautiful. It’s terrible for such a beautiful night to be tainted by such ugly events.

I grab my sword. I turn and face my brother. I see tracks of tears on his face, as if he’s remorseful for what has happened, as if he didn’t know this was always a potential consequence. I toggle the hilt of sword. It becomes a two meter long staff.

“Brother, I never meant—,” he starts.

I activate my boots and with every ounce of momentum I can generate in the short distance I swing my rod at him. It finds purchase. I break his face. He falls to the ground, mewing in pain. “Capture him,” he says, mush mouthed.

His guards beat me. I don’t even feel it. I let them have their way until finally I fade into unconsciousness.