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King Lewis stood on the balcony outside his palace door, looking over the kingdom. He had only been crowned a few days ago, but everything was going perfectly so far. He didn’t regret leaving the world he knew to be crowned, but he did wonder if he would ever see his family again. He had a feeling he would, though he couldn’t be sure how.
Lewis, of course, knew intuitively that Molly---his royal advisor who was also some type of were-cat---was somehow connected to his great aunt Molly, the one who had died in the world he came from. It seemed as though this was her way of manifesting in his head; or maybe he was the one who had come to join her, in wherever this world was that her soul had gone.
When Lewis had first been crowned king, and was first introduced to Molly, she had said in conversation:
“I am older than you know, and you have always known me.”
She said this before she even told her story, which also seemed to match the things Lewis remembered his Great-Grandma Edie telling him.
Although, when Lewis tried to explain to her that she was his great aunt, she didn’t seem to ever get it, despite her sheer wisdom in multitudes of other topics. Maybe her knowledge stopped after the point that her story in the previous world ended.
Whether she was real or imaginary, and whether she actually had any connection to Lewis’s dead great aunt after all, Lewis knew one thing: that he was happy to have met her.
As Lewis stood looking over his beautiful city, he thought how lucky he was to have all of this in the palm of his hand. This world was so much warmer, brighter, and kinder compared to the one he had left. And he actually had a chance to BE something.
Not that he felt like he deserved anything, of course. That was what had made it so overwhelming, when the world in his mind had invited him to stay forever. He knew it wouldn’t be easy, ruling over so much land. But a responsibility which expected so much more of him than the monotony of slicing salmon for hours upon hours every day was what he needed. A job that worked his brain and allowed him to exercise his creativity and decision making would be good for him.
“Your Highness,” said a voice behind him suddenly.
“Oh, hello,” Lewis replied, turning to face the beautiful prince who had addressed him.
“Apologies for disturbing you, Your Highness,” the prince bowed his head respectfully, “but I have come to inform you that the king of the far away Paintbrush Kingdom has sent a message, with notice that he will make the voyage to your palace.”
“Who is the king of the Paintbrush Kingdom?” King Lewis asked.
“He is the ruler of another world that borders ours.” The prince explained.
“So, I don’t rule over there?”
“Unfortunately not,” the prince said, “they are simply our neighbors.” The prince smiled.
“Are they…peaceful?”
“Oh yes,” the prince assured, “everything should be fine. At least, their king has always been sane and sensible. Worry not.”
“So, what does the king want?”
“It seems he simply wants to do the neighborly thing, and come to introduce himself. Also, he probably wants to know if the new king of his bordering land is a threat or not.”
“Ah,” Lewis nodded, “makes sense. When do you think he will arrive?”
“The voyage is a three- or four-week journey.”
“Alright,” Lewis said, “thank you, prince. That will be all.”
“Thank you, Your Highness.” The prince bowed respectfully and returned to the inside of the palace.
—-------
Three weeks later, King Lewis was getting ready in the morning with the help of his servants, when one more servant came into the room from the corridor.
“Your Majesty,” she said.
“What is it?” Lewis asked.
“The prince wants you to know that the ship, on which the Paintbrush King has made the voyage to our palace, should arrive at the docks within the next two to three hours.”
“Oh, goodness, has it been three weeks already?”
“It has.”
“You’d better find something nicer to dress me in,” Lewis said to the girl who was offering him an outfit she had chosen for him. She nodded respectfully and walked back to the dressers to find him something else.
“That’s better,” he said, when she came in again, holding a few much more formal looking garments. When the king was dressed, he stepped out into the corridor, and Lady Molly, the advisor who had been in the form of a giant calico cat during Lewis’s coronation, was waiting for him.
In her more human form, Molly resembled a small, pale-skinned young woman in a lacey pink dress, with large brown eyes and bright, curled blonde hair which fell within a few inches of her shoulders. She generally shifted into her cat form when she felt strong emotion, or strangely, when she was very hungry. She also did so for celebrations, such as Lewis’s coronation.
“Hello, Your Highness,” she said kindly, “shall I lead you to the docks so you can greet the Paintbrush King in person when he arrives?”
“Yes, Lady Molly,” Lewis agreed, “thank you.”
Lewis was still learning his way around the kingdom, so he was glad to have Molly to guide him around. She smiled and turned to lead the king down the corridor.
Lady Molly chatted informatively about palace rooms, and later, stores and markets in the kingdom, as the two of them walked through. She gave gentle reminders and bits of information about what was where and who had what jobs in the castle and in the city.
Lewis could hardly pay attention to her—though he really should have been absorbing the information—and was distracted by the colorful brightness of the painted houses, and the blue sky...and the merchant carts, selling glittering jewelry and delicately crafted glassware and mouthwatering fresh fruits and vegetables.
One stand, for whatever reason, stood out to Lewis.
Behind the stand, there stood two young men who could have been brothers: both with pale skin and splashes of freckles across their noses and cheeks. One of them had dark eyes and a bright pink-red mohawk, and squinted suspiciously at Lewis, studying him carefully. The other looked much happier to see the king. He had lighter, blue-green eyes, and honey-colored hair that grew to about chin length.
Around the stand were objects of all different shapes and colors, all made of fabric which was stretched out with lightweight wooden framing. Some were hung up, and some were laid flat on the table, on display. In front of the stand, a massive wolf with fur the color of summer storm clouds lay idly chewing on an unidentified but very large, meaty bone. A large, cheerfully green frog sat in what must have been the wolf’s water bowl, probably trying to cool off from the aggressively hot sun.
Impulsively, Lewis stepped toward the stand. “What are you selling?” He asked the merchants.
“Kites,” the man with the mohawk replied darkly, “I make them.”
“I help!” Said the more cheerful one.
“Oh, very good,” Lewis grinned. He couldn’t help being delighted that such a grumpy looking guy had such harmless merchandise. “How is business?”
“Good enough,” The man said, smiling a bit now, “would Your Majesty like to take one? I won’t make the king pay for a kite.”
“Oh, no, that’s okay,” Lewis said, “but thank you for the offer. What are your names?” Lewis tilted his head. “You look familiar.”
“I’m Gus,” said the one with the mohawk, “and this is my brother.” Gus nudged the light-eyed man, who didn’t appear to have been paying attention.
“Hm?” Said Gus’s brother.
“The King wants to know your name.” Gus explained.
“Oh. My name is Gregory, Your Highness,” Gus’s brother smiled, “Or just Greg, if Your Highness wants to call me that.”
Ohhhhh. Gus and Gregory. THAT was why Lewis recognized them.
“Gus and Gregory,” Lewis said out loud, “I’m not sure if you understand this, but I know you. Do you remember where you were before you lived in the kingdom?”
“Uh…” Gregory looked at his brother, a bit concerned. It was clear he had no idea what in the worlds Lewis was talking about.
Gus looked like he was remembering something, though. “Yes, Your Majesty,” he said uncertainly, “I was…I mean, I lived on an island, before I landed here in the city.”
Lady Molly stood behind the king, watching the conversation curiously.
“Landed?” Lewis asked Gus, prompting him to give more detail.
“Yes,” Gus confirmed, “One day, on the island where I lived, there was a storm. The last thing I remember is the wind…before I woke up here, in the city. I must have been blown here by the wind, how weird is that?”
“Very,” Lewis agreed, “and what about you?”
He looked at Gregory, who shook his head, bewildered. “I honestly have no clue what you’re talking about, Your Highness,” he admitted, “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” the king reassured, “thank you.”
Gregory smiled again, looking relieved.
“I don’t know if you know this,” Lewis told Gus, “but we come from the same place. I lived on the same island you did, and I was born in the same family…but further down the line.”
Gus’s eyes widened in understanding.
“Do you remember your sister, Dawn?” Lewis asked.
“Wha–uh…yes.” Gus said. Gregory continued to look confused, understandably.
“She’s my mother.”
“Ohh…wait, WHAT?”
“It’s hard to explain,” Lewis said, “but the point is, we’re family.”
“...good to know.” Gus looked like he was wondering if the king was crazy. Gregory looked like he’d already accepted the idea that he was, and was smiling and nodding to pretend like he understood every word.
“Good luck with business,” Lewis told the brothers, nodding to Molly to signal he was done, “we’ll talk more another day.”
When Molly and Lewis were out of earshot, Molly asked, “are you really their family?”
“Yes.”
“You’ve been trying to tell me something similar…am I your family? Do we come from the same place, too?”
“Yes. Your mother is my great-grandmother.”
“I…are you sure?” Molly seemed puzzled. “I hardly remember my mother…how can you know?”
“Your mother told me…stories about you. When I was al—or, living on the island.”
“Are you sure it was me?” Molly smoothly shifted into her cat form. It was like she was on some kind of timer. Or maybe, after a certain amount of time, it hurt to not be shifted.
“I’m pretty sure.” Lewis said. Molly still seemed skeptical, but she kept her mouth shut. Instead, she changed the subject.
“After we get to the docks,” she said, “we’ll still have at least an hour before the ship gets here. We ought to do something in the meantime,” she suggested, “maybe get something to eat?”
Ah, that was why she’d shifted. She was hungry.
“That sounds good,” the king admitted, “where is a good place to go?”
“There are a few places very close to the docks. Personally, I’m feeling a taste for something with a lot of meat, possibly fish, but don’t let me influence Your Majesty.” She looked down at him, her speckled tail swishing impatiently on the pavement behind her, as she sat in wait of his reply.
“Something sweet sounds good to me,” Lewis decided, “but I’m not as hungry as you probably are. Also,” he added, “I’m not much of a fish person.” He briefly remembered the smell of salmon blood, mixed with rusty metal and polluted seawater. He quickly shook the memory out of his head.
“There’s a place that’s not too far from the shore,” Molly said, “they mainly serve pasta, but they have good desserts. They have delicious fry-bread, ice cream, pie, cake, and brownies.”
“Ooh, let’s go there,” Lewis decided, “what is it called?”
“I think something about stars,” Molly said thoughtfully, “but I forget. Should I give you a ride?” The giant cat crouched for Lewis to hop on her back. He climbed on, thanking her.
“You remember the whole dessert menu,” he asked, “but you can’t tell me the name of the restaurant?”
“In my defense, Your Greatness, they have a very forgettable name,” Molly giggled, standing up.
“Alright then. Let’s see if you can find it without remembering what it’s called.”
Molly the elephant-sized cat loped down the street with the king on her back, carefully avoiding stepping on pedestrians. Lewis held on tight to her black and gold fur to avoid falling off. The brass tag around her neck jingled cheerfully as she padded down the street towards the line of restaurants that faced the shore.
After they found the restaurant and ate their breakfast, King Lewis and now again human-looking Lady Molly stepped outside. Because the door of the restaurant faced the sea, they could now see that there was a white shape approaching on the horizon.
“Look!” Molly said. “That must be the Paintbrush Kingdom ship!”
“Wow,” Lewis said, “I hope I make a good impression on the king. I’d really hate for there to be any sort of war or conflict in this kingdom.”
“Don’t be nervous,” Molly advised, “as long as you act royal and be hospitable, there’s no reason for the visit to go wrong.” She patted his shoulder reassuringly.
“What do you know about this other king?” Lewis asked her.
“Well,” Molly thought, “I know that he is also somewhat new to ruling a kingdom, just like you. He is also said to be very wise, and very good at painting and creating things. He has paintings and sculptures all over his kingdom.”
“Huh.” Lewis nodded. “Is there anything about him being…I don’t know, a nice person?”
Molly laughed. “You really are nervous, aren’t you?” she said, shaking her head.
“Wouldn’t you be?” Lewis whined defensively.
“Listen.” Molly grabbed the king by the shoulders, looking him in the eye. “Whatever this other king thinks of you, is none of your concern.” She ordered. “Whether he likes you or not, your own people, your own…family,” she insisted, “will be loyal to you. You SAVED them, Your Majesty. You saved us all. You built us a home.”
“...okay,” Lewis nodded, “thank you, Lady Molly.”
“Are you less nervous now?” Molly asked, letting him go.
“...yes.” He lied. Molly glared at him for a moment.
“Let’s go, then,” she said finally, looping her arm through Lewis’s, “we should get as close to the docks as we can to wait for the ship. The King will definitely like it if you greet him right away when he gets here,” she reasoned.
As the ship got closer, townspeople gathered near the docks, mostly against the railings, to watch the ship pull in, and to see what would happen when the two kings met. Molly and Lewis shooed the crowd back to clear the docks so the King and his servants would be able to leave the ship.
When the ship pulled in at long last, Lewis finally took in how utterly huge it was. Its vast hull was painted a brilliant white that the sun glinted off of, and the figurehead had the shape of a swan, with its neck bowed gracefully. There was not a flaw or a flake or a chip in the paint anywhere to be seen, and the swan was so detailed it could have been alive. On the side of the ship, in an oddly familiar style of writing, was the name of the ship, written in black paint:SWAN.
It was literal enough.
Then, a few people coming from the ship announced the arrival of the king, and requested that the crowd move back to give him room. Lewis didn’t focus well--he was trying to concentrate on standing up straight, and looking royal and hospitable. Molly patted him on the back reassuringly, again, and then stepped back to let him greet the king himself.
And then the king stepped into view, on the deck of the ship. He waved over the railing, greeting the people of Lewis’s kingdom, and Lewis’s heart nearly stopped.
It was Milton. His brother.
He was definitely taller, older than eleven, the age Lewis had last seen him. Maybe eighteen or so? But there was no doubt about it—from his smile to his crown to the way his thick black hair fluffed up behind his ears, Lewis recognized his brother anywhere.
When Lewis realized that Milton probably wouldn’t recognize him, given the previous reactions from his family members, he had to stop himself from sobbing out loud. He covered his mouth with his hand for a moment, trying to calm down enough to pretend like he didn’t know his brother.
Who, by the way, Lewis hadn’t seen since he was fifteen, and was sure he would never see again for all the years of his life after that...he remembered. He took a deep breath, trying to stop the tears from welling up in his eyes, as he watched Milton Finch walk down the ramp to greet his brother like a stranger.
When Milton stepped onto solid land, he stood still for a few moments, staring at Lewis with an expression Lewis couldn’t read. Surprise? Shock? Concern?
Lewis’s subjects had stopped cheering. They watched what was going on with interest.
“Lewis?” Milton said after a minute. He stood about fifty feet away. At this point, most neighboring royals probably would have done some sort of formal, mutual bow, or emotionless greeting.
“Milton!” Lewis cried, tears starting to stream down his face, from relief that his brother did indeed recognize him. He couldn’t stop himself from running to Milton and throwing his arms around him. A collective gasp came from the crowd. Lewis heard Molly mumble something to herself in confusion.
Milton reciprocated Lewis’s hug. He was warm, and solid, and his cape was soft, and Lewis had a million questions about how he’d gotten there, how he recognized him, and whether his being there with Lewis meant he really was dead after all.
Milton let his head drop against Lewis’s shoulder, accidentally causing the golden crown to slide off of his head.
The crown clattered against the stone behind Lewis. It didn’t matter. The two brothers held each other for a long moment, though it didn’t feel like long enough. Milton pulled away finally after what felt like minutes, setting his hands on Lewis’s shoulders. His hazel eyes shone, brimming with tears.
“Hello, Lewis,” he said.
“I didn’t think I’d ever see you again,” Lewis cried. His brother was a lot better at keeping his composure, it seemed. Here Lewis was, ugly crying like a mess, and his little brother was standing in front of him barely misty-eyed.
“I knew I would see you someday,” Milton admitted, “but I’m glad it was today.”
Lewis nodded, tempted to use his own fancy fur cape to cry into. He barely held back, covering his face with his hands instead. Milton stood next to him for a few minutes as he got himself together.
“Oh, hey, Lewis?” He prompted gently, after Lewis managed to catch his breath a bit.
“Yeah?” Lewis sniffed.
“I, uh, brought you a gift. I hope you like it.” Milton turned to someone behind him that had come from his ship. “King Lewis is ready for his gift!” He told them. They nodded, going back up the ramp.
Minutes later, a servant came back down, leading the most beautiful and strange horse Lewis had ever seen.
The horse had a blazing white coat with one black splotch over its eye, silver hooves, and a mane that could literally have been made of gold. As it was led closer, Lewis could see that the horse’s eyes were a deep, bold shade of aquamarine.
“Is that the gift?” Lewis asked.
“Yep,” Milton grinned, “go say hi.”
Lewis went to meet the horse halfway. Milton followed him. Milton approached the beast fearlessly, going ahead and taking the reins from his servant, and bringing the horse closer to Lewis than Lewis was completely comfortable with.
“Go on,” Milton said to Lewis, “pet him, he’s friendly.”
“He’s…really big.” Lewis said bravely.
“You’ll get used to it.” Milton reached out, gesturing for Lewis to give him his hand. Reluctantly, Lewis obliged. Milton slowly took his brother's hand and pressed it against the horse’s nose, encouraging him to pet the stallion’s handsome face. Its nose was velvety soft. The horse huffed a little, and Lewis tried to pull his hand away, but Milton reassured him that it was okay. After a few seconds, Milton let go of Lewis’s wrist, and Lewis confidently patted his new friend’s fuzzy face.
“Wow,” Lewis whispered, amazed, “he’s so pretty.”
“I appreciate the compliment,” Milton smirked, “I painted him myself.”
“Did what?” Lewis asked, half paying attention as the horse nuzzled his hands.
“I made him. With a magic paintbrush,” Milton explained, “sorry about his black splotch, by the way. That wasn’t supposed to be there.”
“No no, it’s cool,” Lewis said. “Hey, Molly?” He turned to ask.
“Yes, Your Majesty?” She shook her head, probably shaking off the confusion of the last few minutes.
“Do we have somewhere we can keep this horse?”
“Yes. We do have a stables in the palace.” Molly smiled.
“Heck yeah,” Lewis grinned, “oh, but, uh, Milton?”
“Yeah, Lewis?”
“Let’s get you and your crew back to the palace. We have a lot to talk about…and a lot to catch up on.”
“Sure thing,” Milton nodded, "oh, I'm so glad to see you again!"