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A tear drew a cold path down her face. A lone shadow cast against the sacred stone of the Spire. End of the line.
This wasn’t how King had imagined the final days of her life. Ideally, she would be surrounded by loved ones, kindly whispering goodbyes. The warm embrace of those that had left before her would draw her deeper into her final sleep. She had lived her life avoiding regrets, dodging misunderstandings as best she could, and yet…
The rift was beautiful, in a way. It glowed, imitating the foundational constants of the sky. The Sun, the Moon, the Stars. It outshined them all, drawing humans to attention with anticipation, and with dread.
King stood and stared until her eyes began to water, no thanks to her thoughts.
Years of traveling with Razz, well-spent. Years of living in the Grove, mediating for Her residents, surrounded with the most vibrant, loving, beautiful people. King would never regret coming here, but still, some part of her wondered if she could have noticed the signs that Inspekta was struggling before it was too late. Small grievances had echoed in the cave of his heart until they overwhelmed his kindness.
She didn’t entirely understand, of course. He hadn’t been as straight-forward as he could’ve been, but Inspekta’s monologue gave her the jist. He hated them all, without King’s meddling and with extra attention to her handwriting he could easily turn them against each other, and from the ashes would emerge the only God, the most important God, to Lead the world into the future.
Without Megapon, King’s voice wasn’t powerful enough to be heard. Down there, everyone thought she hated them.
And, again, soon she would die, unable to rebuke any of it. From the rift, or from hunger. From thirst, or world’s end.
Prolonging her life, of course, were her field rations. Years of traveling made her pragmatic, in that way. Razz and King both carried everything they needed on their person. Her bedroll had made King’s stay near the clouds tolerable. Water was carefully conserved, memories of the first time she’d run out playing every time she took a sip. Razz had bailed King out, then. He had grumbled, calling her everything but her own name, and yet water was gifted, gently transferred from one flask to the other.
Razz struggled with her feelings, but didn’t hesitate to extend compassion. He was down there somewhere, most likely. King would only ascend once, it wasn’t something to miss.
Her lover’s cove was flooding. No other piece of the landscape reflected its God’s pain so plainly as the skies and streams in Mitternacht’s beloved port. Was anyone comforting her, down there? Would anyone hold her hand? Serenade her? Tell her jokes? Would she ever receive another love note?
With a jolt, something clicked into place in King’s mind. She had regrets, now, sure. But, despite Megapon being gone, that didn’t rob her of all power. Razz carried her painting supplies. King carried stationery. Perhaps they couldn’t be delivered before she expired up here, maybe her Gods would rally and come together to find a corpse. But there was nothing stopping King from making sure she got the last word.
And so, King knelt, knees protesting after having gotten comfortable with holding her stiff and steady.
The sheets fluttered in her hand, warbling in protest against the persistent wind. King held them to the Spire, and poured her heart out.
Bauhauzzo, the misty-eyed monolith,
I fear that soon I will soon become just a memory of the past. Inspekta has imprisoned me on high, and yet there is no one to witness the truth with me. Perhaps this is a familiar request, but I am sure you have known the selfishness of humanity and yet so kindly remembered this plea.
Please, recall the smile I wore to speak with you. The present is overwhelming for you, I know. But, with my passing, I hope you will embrace what I was and hold it safe, as you do other Kings long past.
When I come to mind, know that I am sorry. I wish I could’ve heard more stories, my friend. Instead of coming to the future with you, I will join you in the past.
And, I know you will do this no matter my advice, but listen to Huzzle Mug. Today is as beautiful as yesterday, and I hope so will tomorrow. Learn from my past, and listen more closely to those you love than I did.
Anxiously Awaiting Antiquity,
King
Dearest Click Clack,
You and Thespius have worked together for longer than I have lived, and you balance so beautifully. I regret that I will not get to see the carefully crafted conclusion of “Oh Partner Mine,” but with your collaborative care, I am sure it would have knocked my socks off.
Thespius is fanciful and fantastic with his fables, and you so carefully refine it. He may create a gem, but you cut it so that it can truly shine. I have always been in awe of how you work, both of you.
I have always admired the passions you share. You put in so much effort, but I’m sure with a partnership like yours, it just feels like paling around.
Please, even if I can’t partake from beyond the grave, delight your audience. I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.
Pursue Your Passions in Perpetuity!
King
Concerned Cobigail,
Your crops are failing, it’s harvest time again and yet nothing seems to grow. I had hoped that the celebration of my ascension would get Milldread together to talk things over.
Your town was always traditional, but I think something was lost along the way. A special way to till the soil? An important recipe, locked in the back of someone’s trunk?
My regret to share with you, Cobigail, is that though I talked to you, no one else did. I didn’t make time for your problems until it was too late.
Your citizens all try very hard, and so do you. Cobigail, you never failed to make me laugh. If I could try again, I’d show your people how kind you are. Maybe a less spooky statue in the square? Though, it is accurate to your impish spirit…
You will have to solve this solo, and for that, I’m sorry.
King
My sorrowful soulmate,
I understand why you weep so, Miss Mitternacht. I promised you all I could give, and yet, I’ve found myself to be useless.
Inspekta has taken from me my voice, and with it, my future among your beloved pantheon. The Grove is in turmoil, I can tell that even from up here, and yet I am nowhere to be found. I was to be the God of Eloquence, and yet when I am needed most, I am not there to dry your tears.
I believe, however, that soon you will come together and close this rift. Each of you is important because you’re special, you have something that stood out. My love, you have always been the one who took my breath away. Love is like a madness, my dearest. I read biology books to learn how to compliment your bones, bored but for the promise of your brilliant blush.
I would have spent eternity worshiping you, and yet our time is cut short. You are magnificent, your majesty. I mourn, too, what we were supposed to have.
But know, I will die loving you. Nothing could have turned me from your radiance.
Forever Yours,
King