The New King; or, The Well-Meaning Downfall of the Kingdom of Ostracia

Part One: Inauguration

It was a joyous day in the kingdom of Ostracia for a New King was to come to power. Every bank and every shop had closed its doors and even the schools had paused their teachings to celebrate the inauguration of the New King. The New King’s name was Hero and a hero he was. There wasn’t a citizen of the kingdom who didn’t love the New King, he was kind and considerate and easy to love. But the main thing that made Hero so attractive was that he was not like the Old King, not one bit.

The Old King said whatever he thought whenever he thought it and this made many of his citizens to suffer. He would say terrible things about his subjects and poke fun at the impoverished and the disadvantaged. It was said that more tears fell during his reign than did trees and that is something as many trees did fall while he was in power. That was one thing that the Old King was have said to have done well by those who supported him. He ripped through the forests surrounding the kingdom and made the kingdom more beautiful to behold than ever before. And even though he made so many cry, his most loyal followers claimed that within the kingdom’s high walls and battlements every building was made sturdier and more exquisite than ever previously imagined. But those who traveled outside of the walls told of a wasteland, a desolate plateau of lifelessness, which waited outside the kingdom’s wondrous gates. Few citizens dared to pass those gates. They were safer here and after all, there was a New King.

Trumpets blared and women feinted as Hero took to his parapet to address his kingdom. The cheers only grew when everyone saw him there with the morning sun gracing his royal shoulders. After a moment, the crowd’s roar died down as their ears opened to listen to their New King. It began as most speeches do, and he was quite the speaker, charming and quick-witted, but strong in his convictions and swift in his punishment. He made all of this very clear when he proposed a new law that would go into action as soon as he spoke it. “As you all are very aware of,” he spoke with gravity, “the previous ruler of this kingdom was a nasty man who brought upon this kingdom an era of gutter-talk and malicious actions. No more.” He paused for the kingdom’s cheers were overwhelming. “No more,” he said again, this time pounding his fist, “No more will citizens of this kingdom be led in a manner which teaches them it’s okay to mock their neighbors. We are one kingdom. We are one family. And we will act accordingly.” The people rejoiced for the New King was saying everything they wanted to hear. They were tired of crying. “From this day forward,” the New King Hero went on, “if you do not have something nice to say then you will say nothing at all.” The crowd’s volume grew. “And this,” Hero raised his hand to halt the kingdom’s voices which were shut up in an instant, “will be enforceable by law and punishable by death.” Slowly, the New King lowered his hand and gazed upon his subjects. The morning wind whipped the banners against the stone façade of the New King’s Castle. All at once and with great vigor the people of the kingdom erupted in applause. The New King turned with a smile and entered into his new home. His subjects were happy. He was happy. A new day was dawning on the kingdom of Ostracia.

Part Two: Dinner

Inauguration day came and went, the festivities were over and it was back to life as normal or back to life near normal. Where before in the village square you’d be used to hearing people bark and squaw at each other, the roar had been dulled. After all, if you had nothing nice to say, you weren’t to speak at all or else you’d lose your head. It had been decreed and every man, woman and child had heard it with their own ears. Even the members of the deaf community of Ostracia had seen with their own eyes the proclamation from the royal signer. It was a notable shift that most all of the citizens were quite pleased with, no more tears. Some claimed late at night they could even hear the howling of wolves outside the kingdom’s walls. Never before could you have heard such a thing, it soothed many.

In the days following the inauguration, a page delivered to the New King a missive from a high standing official within the kingdom. He sent his congratulations on a well-earned political victory. The New King responded by inviting the official to the castle for a royal dinner knowing full well that without the official’s financial assistance the Old King might still be spouting hatred from the throne upon which Hero now sat.

The sun rose and fell twice and so came the day the royal dinner was to be had. In the Great Hall, the servants and cooks laid out a beautifully extravagant meal as the New King, the New Queen and the Royal Guest sat and beheld a performance from the Noble Mime. He had previously been the Court Jester, but Hero’s New Law hindered his performance quite severely, and had since taken to entertaining without speaking. Following the Mime finding his way out of an invisible room and into a phantom chariot that carried him away, the three applauded and sat down to enjoy their meal.

“I want to thank you quite profusely for having me here tonight.” The high standing official spoke with confidence, “the venison smells delicious.”

The New King looked on him with gratitude, “It is I who should be thanking you. For as you know neither myself nor the Queen Shima,” Hero gestured to the woman beside him who bowed her head upon hearing her name, “would be sitting here without your,” the New King smirked, “help. Which is why you are honored as being our first guest here at the Castle.”

The High Standing Official held his wine up for a toast. “To the New King, Hero, may he reign with dignity. And to our Queen Shima, may she wear the crown with grace.” The three raised their chalices, set them together and then drank deep the work of the Vintners. The New King and the Official drank heavily of the vine’s liquor, so much so that never was there a chance for any of the servants to take a seat or step outside for a quick smoke of their pipes, they were too busy refilling the constantly depleting goblets of their masters. The Queen looked on, uninterested in losing her head even among the safety of supposed friends.

Once the meal was ate up, the three made their way to sit around the roaring fire in the Great Hall to continue drinking and cajoling and to smoke their pipes of Ostracian Tobacco. Servants stood by ready to pour wine and refill their pipes, occasionally tending to the fire. Hero and the Official, who had been school chums in a bygone era, began recounting nostalgic tales as the fire crackled and burned. Queen Shima sat on listening drinking her after-dinner coffee. At one point Hero, in his drunken stupor and lulled into a sense of comfort and confidence, recalled a story of a foot race the two had had in which Hero was the victor.

“Yes, I remember.” The Official murmured staring into the fire, “How could I forget?”

The New King laughed heartily, “You were so sure you would win, you were positive, but had forgot to take into account that you had been sitting all winter!”

The Official cleared his throat and smoked his pipe.

“You didn’t stand a chance. You still don’t.” The New King did not relent, “I’m sure if we set to run around this castle, I’d be back to this seat before you even set down your pipe!”

Queen Shima furrowed her brow and looked on to her husband, “That’s enough, now. You’re making him uncomfortable.”

The New King did not heed her warning and went on, “Is it your shoes?” He laughed, “Maybe the cobbler made them with stone by mistake thinking he was a mason instead!”

“That’s enough!” The Official stood and looked to Hero, “If you’ve nothing nice to say …” he did not finish the thought. The servants stood still as ice and looked onto their New King to witness his response.

Hero was immediately shocked into sobriety. He cast down his gaze for a moment obviously ashamed of his recent decorum. He then stood and looked onto his old friend. The New Queen butted in, “I’m sure he meant nothing by it. He’s just ribbing you. The campaign was strenuous and he’s so tired now. He’s lost his head.”

“He soon will.” The Official looked into Hero’s eyes.

“Do you threaten your King?” Shima stepped between the men.

“I only ask that he stand by his own rule of law.” The Official’s stare did not falter.

Shima went to speak, but was cut short with a hand on her shoulder. “He’s right.” Hero spoke meekly. “I made a law and I have broken it, therefore I must pay the consequence.”

Shima turned to her husband whom she loved dearly, “Hero, please. Not one of your subjects would hold you accountable. This man has just committed treason in suggesting your — ” she couldn’t finish her sentence as her face fell.

“No, Shima, I believe you’re correct. Therefore it is my duty as King to sentence myself to death.” With this the New King left the Great Hall for his bedchambers without another word. Shima looked to the Official who adjusted his collar in assuredness. She then turned and followed her husband as the servants escorted the Official out of the Castle of Ostracia.

Part Three: Execution

Word traveled fast of what transpired at that Dinner as is wont to happen when gossip is gripping and people are bored. As many citizens appeared at his Inauguration so did they for his coming execution. Some camped out in the village square the night before, vying for a good vantage point. And as honorable as most people saw the act, so too did it break the hearts of his subjects. If anyone deserved a pardon it was the man who cast judgment on himself, but that’s not who Hero was. He was a man of his word and as he set the law he also must follow it.

Murmurs dappled the crowd as the executioner took to the wooden platform that had been set up for the occasion. He carried with him a broad axe freshly sharpened. No one could identify the man for the hood covering his visage, but all were thankful for the apparent sharpness of his blade. If this had to be done, best it was only done once. No second hack for the New King of Ostracia.

An hour passed and it seemed as though Hero had grown fearful of his self-prescribed fate. Perhaps he had escaped as his subjects gathered. A man of his station surely would be able to arrange for just an exit. But as doubt turned to hope the Castle doors opened and out walked the New King followed closely by his Queen. His shoulders looked heavy, but his head was held high as he ascended the wooden stage.

He looked out upon the army of his subjects. Time stood still. All was silent save for the islands of women sniffling their noses and men choking down tears. Hero opened his mouth as if to speak, but instead bowed his head and reached into the pocket of his robes producing a small wax sealed envelope, which he handed to his Queen who stood beside him. Shima was despondent to say the least. She took the envelope and put it into her robes unopened then threw her hands around her King. Seeing this generated wails from the crowd. Hero embraced her firmly and long then placed his two hands on her face taking in one last look at the forge of his heart. He then kissed her on her lips and walked over to the executioner’s block, which sat firmly in the middle of the wooden stage. Hero kneeled behind it and set his head in the hollow of the slab. The executioner raised his axe and with one swift swing severed the heavy head from Hero’s noble shoulders.

Royal blood sprayed into the crowd. Women screamed and men bowed their heads as the King’s crown crashed onto the boards. Shima wasted no time in retrieving the golden crown, descending the platform and turning for the castle. Her depression turned to fury and with every step she took the earth quaked in her ears and her brain pulsed with rage. Hero was dead, the Official was next.

Part Four: Banishment

It was not long between Hero’s death and Shima’s reign. The people knew of her, they trusted her, but moreover if Hero had loved her then they couldn’t help but love her too. And so the people’s trust and the crown itself were transferred quite easily to Shima.

Her first order of business was to double down on her late husband’s new law. The crowds gathered. Dressed in her mourning robes and from the same parapet that Hero had decreed his law of kindness the New Queen spoke, “Hero, your king and my love, is dead.” Audible cries resonated through the crowd. “But his memory lives on in our hearts and in our laws.” Shima paused to take in the citizens of Ostracia. “Our streets are kinder than ever before. The marketplace bustling with compliments. Life in Ostracia is better than ever and it’s because of Hero, your late king, that this was made possible.” This was met with some cheers from the mourning crowd. “And as your new Queen, I now instate my first order of business.” She paused if nothing more than for dramatic effect, she had stood by her husband for many years and had picked up the politician’s way of speaking. “As only kindness may be spoken in Ostracia, as no offense may be spoken, then it is antithetical and plain ridiculous for anyone to act offended with no offender present.” Shima paused, “Therefore, within the walls of this kingdom being offended is now punishable by banishment.” The crowd was puzzled. As a group they couldn’t agree on how to respond. Some applauded and some let out a cheer, but overall they were quiet. They dare not jeer lest they be put to the slaughter and they wouldn’t talk under their breath for fear of the same. This kept their voices in their throats, the fear of punishment, the fear of banishment. They slowly filed out of the village square to the sound of crows splashing in the gutters as Shima returned to the castle to execute her next order of business.

Shima sat atop her golden throne in her black mourning robes as the iron castle doors were thrust open. Two royal guards entered the throne room with a man between them. He was not in irons and he was not being guided, but it was apparent that he dreaded each step that took him closer to the Queen of Ostracia. Seeing him enter, Shima rearranged her seated position from one of a relaxed posture to a statelier stance, her jaw clenched and chin raised. She let him walk the throne room’s expanse before addressing the High Standing Official.

“Hello.” The word hung in the air like an executioner’s axe.

The Official bowed his head, “Hello my Queen. I can only assume why I have been brought here and would like an opportunity to plead my case.”

Shima looked down at him and let his words pass by like wind against the trunk of an oak. After a moment she expressed, “I don’t want to be here.”

The Official’s brow furrowed as he looked on, “You don’t want to be …”

“I don’t want to be sitting here on this throne,” Shima interrupted, “This was Hero’s goal, not mine. I never once gave thought to governing.”

The Official looked confused, but Shima pressed on.

“I was quite content to be his rock. I was happy with my lot. I never wanted to sit here in what should be my husband’s seat.” Shima leaned forward, “You put me here.”

The Official’s head began to shake from side to side.

“You did this,” she was steady as she spoke, but her words cut like knives, “You put me in this chair.”

“I understand that you are in mourning right now,” The Official spoke honestly, “But I am no villain, I only meant for the King to see — ”

Shima stood up strong as every muscle in her body was lit aflame. “You killed my Hero.”

The Official flinched at her sudden movement. “I did not kill him. I did not set his law. He did it himself.”

Shima began to tremble, “You knew what he meant. You knew he was not speaking in offense.”

“His law did not leave room for error,” The Official defended, “I only meant for him to see that.”

“You lost a footrace.” Shima spoke bluntly, “You were just a boy and you lost a footrace.”

The Official smiled and shook his head, “This has nothing to do with that.”

“It has everything to do with it.” Shima began to descend the stairs that led to her throne, “My husband, drunk in revelry, recalled a story with an old friend.” The Official stood silent as Shima gradually approached. “In the story the friend lost a footrace to my now deceased King.” A single bead of sweat developed and fell from the Official’s forehead. “The story hurt the friend’s feelings. So the friend quoted the rule of law that the King had just recently instated.” Shima was now upon him, “The King, being honorable, bowed to his own law and suffered the consequences.” The Official stopped breathing as Shima’s words sliced into his ears like an assassin’s blade. “You cannot lie to me.” She did not blink, “I was there.”

Every Royal Guardsmen had his hand tight upon the hilt of his blade as Shima went on, “You have no doubt heard of the new law punishable by banishment.” Her voice had a terrifying melody to it. “Yes?”

The Official nodded his head, “I have heard, yes, but — ”

“But what?” the Queen interrupted.

The Official’s mouth was dry and his tongue clicked as he spoke, “But if you are planning on banishing me for what happened at dinner then I do feel compelled to remind you that that law did not yet exist.”

Shima quietly laughed and ascended her throne. She sat gracefully and looked down to the Official, “That does not matter.”

The Official looked around the throne room seemingly searching for someone to support his argument. Finding no one he relented, “You cannot enforce a law retroactively. It’s unheard of. Your people will not respect it.”

Shima spoke as if not hearing him, “For taking offense when no offender was present, I hereby banish you from Ostracia.” She snapped her fingers and the two Royal Guards who escorted the Official in now each held him by an arm. “Take him.”

The Official rebutted and fought against his fate, but the Guards were strong and the order was final. Shima’s eyes filled with joy to see the Official carted off. A smile carved its way across her face as the iron castle doors were shut once again.

Part Five: Reclamation

Soon everyone knew of the Official’s banishment. Some thought the Queen was right to have done what she did. Some people believed, as the Official had warned, that she was incredibly out of line to have punished someone for breaking a law that did not exist when said law was broken. But it did not matter what people believed was right or wrong for their belief remained secret, as a belief. No conversations were had regarding the ruling because no one was wiling to risk offending someone else. They had all seen the King’s blood spilled for doing just that. They had all heard of the Official’s banishment for causing it. Ostracia was told it was a kind kingdom now, free of offenses, and maybe it was, but it was also free of open communication.

In the market, people pointed to what they wanted to buy and the vendors would hold the price up on their fingers, better than haggling and risking offense. Schooling became free of tests and all students received high marks regardless of their studying, better than failing a pupil and losing your head. Life had completely changed in Ostracia, but to complain about the current state could be taken as unkind so it was better left unsaid.

And it was in these days and nights of silence that the wilderness began to overtake what was once its own. The first attack came one night when two guards were on their watch. They had been overtaken by a pack of wolves and in fear of offending anyone trying to enjoy a night’s rest, quelled their own cries of death. Their cold and mangled bodies were found the next morning, soaked in blood and coated in dew. The attacks did not stop for the killing was easy and nature was angry. Ostracia may have moved forward from the days of the Old King and his destroying of the forests that surrounded the kingdom, but the beasts of the wilderness had not.

It was not uncommon to wake up and find a handful of bodies lifeless and wet scattered about the streets. But no one dared to comment on the rotten stench of death in fear of offending someone who loved the dead in life. It became normal to step over bodies and pretend to ignore the crows snacking on the sludge of their remains.

Shima had heard of the news. She had sent out troops to combat the beasts, but in fear of offending each other, the soldiers couldn’t quite bark orders how they used to and their strategies fell short of nature’s hunger. And so it went for months, as Ostracia’s population dwindled daily in silence. But Shima dare not retract her loving King’s law for fear of looking weak or disrespecting the dead. And no one dare complain for fear of offending Shima herself.

And as the bodies piled up, people stopped leaving their homes at night for fear of being next. The wolves began to freely roam the streets. Inside they would stay until starvation forced their hand to leave their homes in search of food. Some were convinced it was smarter to turn to their household pets for nourishment. But sooner or later everyone left home and once they did the wolves found them and destroyed each and every citizen of Ostracia in voluntary, pin-drop silence. All except one.

Shima sat alone in her bedchambers. Her servants and guards all lost to the onslaught. She could hear them. She could hear the gnashing of their teeth outside her door. She could hear the beasts scratch at the wood. Her life was a candle short on wax. And in her last moments the only thing she longed for was more time with Hero. She missed him dearly and could only think of him as tears fell from her face onto the silk sheets of Ostracia’s royalty. It was then that she remembered the letter that Hero had left her. She went in search of the wax-sealed envelope he had handed to her moments before he perished. She found it in the pocket of the robes she had worn that day. She hadn’t been able to put them on since in fear of reliving his death.

But now she ripped open the envelope as the barks and growls from outside her door grew in intensity. And there in her love’s handwriting was one sentence, one simple sentence. It read, “We cannot silence hate by silencing everything that seems like hate.” Her fingers traced the slight ridge of ink formed by the one she loved. She had little time to think it over before her door was broken open and the beasts were upon her.