Reasonably Psychotic
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The sun shined on grass still wet with morning dew. Rolling hills devoid of trees spilled away, all the land under the sun was empty.

Except for a single figure, hopping across the grass. His teal flesh and tall body lined with thin spines gave him away as a native inhabitant of the Province of Ünterson.

He lifted his head toward the blinding sun. So bright, so powerful. Its light filling him with all the energy he needed to keep going. Restore my strength o’ Great Sun, prop me up for my last journey. He remembered dozens of prayers, all learned by heart. He’d been a Priest after all, not just any Priest, the High Priest of the Plant Kingdom.

Now? He wasn’t sure what he was.

He stopped himself at the top of a shallow hill. Peering in all directions, he weighed his options. Around him were the mountains, the Province of Syl. What had once separated the Kingdom from the chaos beyond. The Hill, loyal to the end it seems. Gone now, left to help the King… but the King’s dead, and so are they.

He looked to the south, where he’d come from. Not long ago, his King had departed that way to face the invaders. He shuttered at the thought. Any direction but that.

He looked to the east, the Province of Iyre. Why bother? The east doesn’t exist anymore. Those old Kings of Fire and Flame… they’d be awed… so bright… The Province of Evir likely hadn’t faired much better, being right next to it.

He looked to the west, where the sun set. They went west while the King went south. He hoped they’d make it, it would be a long journey, one he didn’t intend to partake in.

Finally, he looked to the north. There wasn’t much that way, the expedition that came back only reported frozen water and never ending snow. He thought a bit closer, within the Kingdom. The old rock-carved palace could still be found up in the mountains, where the Kings of the Hill had resided, no doubt sealed off by the last to leave.

There was one more thing, he remembered. A tomb. The old Pious King. It was under him that all this started. Though the Priest knew it would have happened eventually, and the old Pious King had taken immediate action when it did. He remembered growing up hearing of him, recording his tales, his deeds. Of all the Kings of the Plant Kingdom, he’d been the most prevalent in his worship of the Sun, a legend among the Priesthood.

His story was coming to an end, he knew. All he could do now was find a place to end it. There would be no greater honor than with the Priest-King.

The Priest began the first hops in his journey north. After the third he stopped, peering down at the ground beneath his stem, and the surrounding hills. He recognized this place. How could he not? He’d been taught the intricacies of that war, The Wildfire. That battle was a hundred winters ago, and now the land appeared as if nothing had happened.

That zealous Commander facing off against the Hill Kings. Fools, all of them, fighting amongst themselves. If only they’d known…


Hammer watched as a deer trotted away at the foot of a hill. Tangled in its antlers was the twisted corpse of a soldier, one of his own. Just another of a thousand fallen. He sent two of his own soldiers to retrieve it.

Hopping about, the cooking teal bodies of Sun and three-lobed Hill soldiers littered the grass like an autumn forest floor. But it was the three broken chariots that caught Hammer’s interest. Hopping to one, he could see a panel at the front, and the careful yet rushed work which went into it. An unpolished carving of its occupant being mauled by a bear, on which King Stone rode. Hammer remembered the story. Hunter turned prey… though I don’t believe King Stone was riding the bear.

Next to the chariot was a moldy and shredded hill corpse, clearly much older and more dusty than the rest. The Hunted, how long has it been since your face was seen? Looped through holes in the Hunted’s arms and head were ropes. Hammer remembered when the battle began, seeing the Hill Kings move and flail as their chariots drew closer. This is how they did it.

Further away, Hammer found the other two chariots. One had a panel depicting a Hill King’s slaughter by the weapons of his own soldiers. Still lying in the basket, the body of The Betrayed rested under the sun’s beating brightness, his flesh long turned gray and brown.

Finally, the third chariot. The panel depicted a Hill King with a spear through his body, standing above a vanquished Sun King impaled with a mace. Hanging off the edge, The End’s body looked ready to fall apart. Even King Spear could not keep you down forever.

Hammer found himself wondering the meaning behind it. It was to strike fear of course, but how would King Flame feel about opening the royal cemetery? The bodies of Spear, Shield, Stone, Snowflake, attached to ropes like puppets and flung away on chariots in a small attempt at a startle. Not a smart idea, seeing as the Hill Kingdom’s history was now in Hammer’s possession.

“Commander?” Hammer turned to see a soldier speaking to him. “The Hill army is retreating north. We shouldn’t wait here and let them get away.”

Hammer looked north. Then south, to where his soldiers either lay dead or were tending to each other’s wounds. Wandering between them was a tall and woody figure covered in a hundred sharp needles, the Army Priest. He checked on the wounded and comforted the dying without stop. The Priest caught Hammer’s gaze and looked back. It was a face of pain.

“Let them go,” Hammer said. “We’ve scored our victory.”

“Yes… Commander…” The soldier said, and turned away.

“We go east,” Hammer said.

The Soldier stopped, looking back. “East, Commander?”

“The City under the Sun,” Hammer replied. “I’m going to meet the King, and let everything be decided for certain.”

“Yes Commander.” The soldier bowed.

“The Hill Kings. Take them with care, wrap them in whatever cloth you find. The chariots too, take off the panels and use them as labels. They will make a good meeting gift.”


“Smoke?” The River Branch asked.

Thorn Blade looked ahead, to the west. Smoke. The city!

“We need to move faster.” He said.

A moon ago, King Flame had sent him east to the City on the River. There, Blade met the small and dark-fleshed Branch Winds and his branch brother, Silver. They rode beside him now. Behind them, a fresh new River Army to defend the City Under the Sun. But now, it seemed, they were too late.

As they drew closer, the smoke became bigger. On the side of the road, they came across a small shop.

“Search it,” Blade ordered.

The Soldiers came back with the shopkeeper.

“What happened!?” Blade yelled to him. “Tell me everything you know!”

"R-Root Moss…" the shopkeeper mumbled in distress. “Root Moss is dead.”

Branch Winds looked to him, then to Blade. That wasn’t good.

“Why is there smoke!?" Blade yelled. "What happened to the city!?”

“There was a riot… I… stayed away from it. I don’t know anything about what happened inside!”

“Useless!” Blade motioned his soldiers to let the shopkeeper go, and whipped his deer forward.

The first buildings came into view, some were damaged. Vagrant inhabitants drifted about and froze at the sight of the army. At the sight of the first corpse in the road Blade called a commander.

“Take the soldiers, sweep the city. All inhabitants are confined indoors until further notice. Capture any caught looting or stealing, if they resist, make an example. Bring this place to order.”

The commander bowed and departed. As his orders were passed through the ranks, the army departed down the streets.

Blade called a group of mounted soldiers to keep himself and the two nobles protected. Blade, Winds, Silver, and the rest bolted for the palace. As they drew to the center of the city, Blade saw more heavily damaged buildings, some gutted by fire. This is where the main event happened.

The Palace still stood intact, and there seemed to be a commotion inside the throne room. On the outside wall, next to the doorway, a servant’s corpse lay, one he’d known.

Blade dismounted, as did the rest. “Get us inside,” He told the soldiers.

“Move! Out of the way!” The soldiers shouted, pushing citizens aside with their spears.

At the sight of the body, Blade jumped forward. “GET OFF HIM! STOP TOUCHING HIM!”

King Flame lay on the pedestal in the middle of the room. The top of his body on the stone surface, the bottom slipped off and dipped in a bucket. His tattered crown still rested on his head. Across the center of his body, a gaping slash.

Blade hopped towards his King. The room was now silent.

“When?” He asked.

“A day ago,” One of the citizens said. “Root Moss is gone, and High Priest Goldflame…”

Blade looked down. “What is that?”

“It’s what they soaked Root Moss in, Commander…?”

“Thorn. I am Thorn Blade. Why are you dipping our King in filth?”

“Thorn Blade! It was to preserve… eh… we didn’t know what else to-“

“Get out,” Blade said. “All of you, back to your homes… NOW!”

Slowly, the crowd departed the palace, into a much quieter city.

Blade pulled King flame up onto the pedestal, his stem rose from the bucket. Picking the bucket up, Blade peered inside, to the strange blue liquid. He gave it to a soldier.

“Dump that outside. Get rid of it.”

Blade moved to the front of the pedestal, looking down on King Flame’s empty face. Many big decisions needed to be made, and they needed to be made quick. Starting here.

“Winds, take his stem. Silver, hold up the middle, don’t let him tear,” Blade turned to the soldiers. “You, you, and you. Guard the doorway, none in or out. The rest of you, search the palace for dangers. We’re taking the King to his quarters.”

Thorn Blade, Branch Winds, and Silver carried the body of the King into the palace.

“Who did it?” Branch Winds asked. “Because they’re going to suffer for a long time.”

Blade looked at the gash on the King’s body. He recognized the smoothness of the cuts. He’d seem them many times on the King’s victims. That dark blade he’d given as a gift.

“The King did not want to be captured,” Blade said. “He departed on his own terms.”

King Flame was carefully laid on his bed. Leaving a soldier to stand guard, the three went straight to the council chamber.

The chairs had been scattered, some broken. Blade simply elected to stand at the table.

“We have much to get done here,” Blade said. “Many things, many choices, many roles to fill. To start. Who shall be our new King?”


West of the City Under the Sun, the Royal Mother Tree shined in the light. The leaves which grew from it weren’t like the common sorts that grew through the valley. They were Royal.

Each day Servants would inundate the soil at its base with the finest stored rainwater. Rainwater that a single small leaf near the bottom was eager to drink up.

“Good morning, Dew!” he shouted below.

The leaf pouring the rainwater looked up. “Morning!”

“Thank you for the water!” the small leaf shouted. “It feels good!”

“You’re very welcome,” Dew shouted back. “It’ll help make you bigger and stronger!”

“I’ll be the strongest!” the small leaf said.

Dew looked back down to his now empty bucket. Adorable, I hope they find a place for him. Maybe a jester. He turned back, hopping into the cisterns.

Looking down into the deep well of rainwater, Dew couldn’t help but admire it. That said, he knew better than to sneak some for himself.

“Quite the wealth sitting in here.”

Dew jumped, spinning around to meet the sneaky intruder. A tall Sun Province inhabitant, holding a spear, next to him was a shorter and darker River Province inhabitant.

“Apologies," the taller one said. "I am Thorn Blade.”

“Thorn-“ Dew quickly collected himself, and bowed. “My own apologies, I did not know you.”

“And this is Branch Winds of the River Province.”

Dew gave a bow to him as well. “Is there something you need?” he asked them.

“Yes,” Thorn Blade said. “Show us the Royal Mother Tree. It’s of the upmost importance.”

Dew obeyed, taking the pair out of the cistern and to the tree.

“These are all the budlings?” Branch Winds asked.

“Yes,” Dew answered.

Blade took a hop forward, seemingly studying each of the budlings poking from the branches.

“Dew! You’re back!”

Dew looked to the small leaf dangling from a bottom branch. Not you! Not now! Not with them!

“Are those your new friends!” the small leaf yelled, unaware of the visitor's seeming importance. “What’s the small one? He looks odd!”

Branch Winds chuckled.

“A friend of yours?” Thorn Blade asked.

If he had lungs, Dew would have sighed. “Yes. Just ignore him, he’s…”

Dew paused for a moment, then leaned towards Blade.

”A bit dimwitted.”

Blade looked back up at the small leaf. “Hmm…”


Strongsen watched the flames in front of him begin to fade.

“The Fire is going out,” Rayy said. “Will anyone get tinder?”

The sun had set, and until it rose again, the fire they sat around was all they had.

“Of course,” Light said. “I’ll go to the City of Ash and toss him in.”

They all laughed. The sixteen of them circled around the campfire. Some held their spears, others had set theirs down against nearby logs and rocks. Each of them had the same dark-green flesh and spikes that marked them as natives of the Province of Fire. But they also had the weapons that marked them as soldiers.

Two of the soldiers didn’t laugh.

“I don’t get it,” Glowe said.

Strongsen looked down to his smaller branch brother. Never one to understand clever jests, or even most puns. Strongsen weighed his options between explaining the joke or letting it be. The Commander made that decision for him.

“Branch Tinder leads the Fire Province,” Commander Goldskye said. “And it would do you all some good to not disrespect his name.”

They fell silent.

"Apologies, Commander," Light said.

Commander Goldskye nodded, and turned around. A lone rider had arrived on a deer, carrying a tablet that bore the mark of a messenger.

"I'll be back," Commander Goldskye left to speak to him.

Strongsen and the soldiers exchanged a handful of looks. None of them had any love for the Branch of the Fire Province, for good reason. Ever since King Spear emerged from the west and brought the land under his stem, he'd brought with him their ways. The Priests had worked for tens of winters to outshine the barbaric worship of fire that permeated the east. Their work had paid off in places, but the ways of fire were still rooted in most of the province.

One village that had come under their spell was Sungrass. Strongsen remembered the small collection of buildings that surrounded the mother tree where he'd been grown. Where Glowe had grown alongside him. Even from the start, the two had been together. Preforming village duties, traveling to trade with the neighbors on occasion, and doing their duty when they were called to war.

Many in his unit had been strangers when they met, but they were all followers of the Sun. Branch Tinder made it a policy to keep Fire and Sun separated, even on the battlefield. Together, he and his fellow soldiers had seen action throughout the north, against the Hill Tribes. If rumors were to be believed, they'd seen more action than most. Putting us on the front lines while the fire-worshipers hide behind. Not a surprise.

Commander Goldskye hopped back into the light of the campfire.

"What did he say?" Glowe asked. "Is it from the King?"

"Silence!" Goldskye barked. "I have told you, it is not your place to ask."

"Apologies!" Strongsen rushed to disarm a familiar situation. "I will keep him reminded."

Goldskye gave a stern nod. Many in the unit found their Commander abrasive around the campfire, but when it came time for battle, Goldskye was often the first to charge into danger. For that, many gave him their cautious respect.

"The news," Goldskye announced. "Is that the raids from our friends in the Hill Tribes have dwindled…"

A wave of chatter went through the unit.

"…the Flaming Antlers especially have gone strangely silent. But whatever the case, it's freed up many of the Branch's forces, including ours."

"Commander," Light asked. "If I may-"

"Yes," Goldskye said. "We are to travel to the City of Ash for the Autumn festival."

The chatter was replaced by cheer. Strongsen couldn't help but feel warmer inside. After moons of waiting around the campfire, preying for the lack of an attack that always came, a break was in good order.


"Are they here?" Blade asked.

Silver stood in the doorway, giving a small nod. "Yes."

The council chamber was in better shape than they'd found it, barely. Blade sat in one of the spare chairs that had been provided in place of the broken ones. Next to him, Branch Winds sat.

"Hammer," Blade said. "That's his name?"

"Yes," Silver answered. "High Commander Sharpaxe perished under unknown circumstances. I suppose you'll wish to ask him yourself."

"I do," Blade said. "Have his soldiers wait at the outskirts. Bring Commander Hammer here, alone."

"Yes, Thorn," Silver bowed and hopped away.

Thorn Blade didn't know what exactly to think of Silver. He'd always been by Branch Wind's side, even at the City on the River. Though it wasn't hard to see that Winds was the more restrained of the two branch brothers. On that note, Blade didn't know what exactly to think of Root Winds either. For now, though, Winds was his only ally. One the Kingdom desperately needed.

"What shall we do with him?" Winds asked. It was the obvious question. The one Blade didn't yet have the answer to.

"I will talk to him," Blade said. "And then I will decide."

"Can he be trusted?"

"I will talk to him," Blade repeated.

The Thorn and the Branch sat in silence for a moment.

"Can he be trusted?"

Blade knew which 'he' he was talking about.

"You agreed," Blade told him. "With more enthusiasm than I did, I should add. What do you think of him?"

"Small," Winds said. "Young, naive, one from the bottom of the tree…"

"The opposite of King Flame in every conceivable way."

"Yes," Winds said. "We both agreed to him. Our last King had too much fire, this one has none."

"We will be his fire," Blade said.

"You will be his fire," Winds corrected. "I will be his mind."

"Sounds right enough," Blade said. "With the three of us, I believe we can carry the Plant Kingdom out of this boiling pot."

"Together," Winds nodded.

"Together."

Far down the hall, the echo of an opening door was heard.

"I wish to talk to him alone," Blade said.

Winds chuckled. "'Together' seems to mean something different here."

"Yes, funny timing," Blade told him. "Whatever this Hammer is, he is a warrior, as am I. He will be more open with me."

"And not with me?" Winds asked.

"He will put his guard up," Blade said. "Especially in front of a merchant from the River."

Winds stared silently for a moment.

"I want him on our side," Blade said. "We need his soldiers."

The River Branch nodded. Hesitant, but understanding. He stood and hopped out the back entrance.

Blade looked ahead, readying himself for his meeting.

Silver hopped into the doorway. A leaf from the Sun Province towered beside him. The new High Commander…

Blade gave a nod, Silver bowed, and departed down the hall. Commander Hammer hopped inside.

"You can stop there," Blade said. For a moment, Blade studied the newcomer. He appeared an average soldier, his stillness giving off an aura of firm experience. On one side of his body, several lines had been imprinted in the shape of a simple hammer. A fresh tattoo, as were becoming more popular in recent days.

"Well-" Hammer began to speak.

"Silence," Blade snipped. "Why are you here?"

"I am here…" Hammer replied in a cold tone. "…to see if I am to be jailed or executed for treason."

Blade pondered the words a moment. "We will see about that. First, I need questions answered."

"I have a feeling that's the only thing we have in agreement," Hammer responded.

"Enough," Blade said. "What happened to High Commander Sharpaxe?"

"What happened to King Flame?"

"Commander Hammer!" Blade snapped again. "I am Thorn Blade of the Plant Kingdom. You are still apart of the King's army. You are here to answer to me."

A tense silence hung over the room. Who would give in first?

"The King is dead," Blade finally told him. "We have a new King set to be crowned in the next few days."

Hammer's gaze lowered, pondering the words. He looked back up.

"High Commander Sharpaxe was killed by a monster in the forest."

Now it was Blade's turn to ponder.

"A monster," Blade repeated. "A 'monster in the forest' killed our High Commander?"

"Truthfully," Hammer said. "I fed him to it."

This was not going the way Blade expected. He looked back at the bold Commander who had just marched into the Royal Council room and spun a story of feeding monsters.

"I knew Commander Sharpaxe," Blade said. "Tell me, did he die like a soldier or a coward?"

"He called me a traitor," Hammer bluntly responded. "All while the flesh was being ripped from his body and he was dragged into darkness."

"Hmm…" Blade studied him more. A fitting fate. Good riddance.

"There's been talk of your deeds," Blade said. "You battled the Hill army to the west."

"Yes," Hammer said. "Their Kings old had come back to lead them. We captured them all."

Blade was taken by surprise. "You captured the old Hill Kings?"

"Don't mistake me," Hammer replied. "They've seen better days, but I elected to bring them here for you. Consider them an… offering."

"Your soldiers," Blade said. "Will they follow you?"

"They made me High Commander themselves, they will follow me."

After another moment in silence, Blade stood. "Will you follow me?"

Hammer studied him back. "It appears you have a lot of work to do. I'm at your assistance, Thorn Blade."

Blade nodded back. "Over the next few days, we will restore this city to order. We will Crown our new King. We fill find a new High Priest-"

"I have a suitable candidate," Hammer said. "In our army for your consideration, my Thorn."

"Of course," Blade replied. "And we will bury our dead and bring this war to an end."

He hopped around the table, to the Commander.

"I hereby pardon you for your actions and declare you High Commander of the Army Under the Sun."

Hammer nodded. "Thank you, Thorn Blade."

"I admit, I am impressed with you," Blade said. He leaned towards him. "But if you move a hop out of place, I will just as easily un-pardon you."


"I want this done," Blade said. "Smooth, uneventful."

"Agreed."

Blade and Winds spoke in the corner, a stone's throw from the new King. Not like he cared, he was the most exited any leaf had ever been.

It had hurt when he stem was cut from the tree, but Blade told him that a King must be strong. He promised himself he'd never cry out again.

"So, my King," Silver said, standing next to him. "Well, you're not King yet, but you're about to be! Is this not a happy day?"

"It's the happiest day of days!" Cloud told him.

"It's not a strong name for a King," Silver said. "But after King flame, the Kingdom could use a soft cloud to make them feel better."

Cloud nodded. "I will be the greatest King! I will make the Kingdom the best it's been!"

"Yes, you will," Silver said. "And speaking of King Flame…" He nodded to the pedestal in the middle of the temple room, where priests wrapped the corpse on the table. King Flame lay on the stone, as if looking back at him. His presence unnerved Cloud, but he kept himself together. I am a strong King.

The former King's gaping wound was covered in wrappings, decorated with a set of symbols and healing spells. The priests set a stone tablet over it, decorated with more spells. Cloud watched nervously as they picked up his stone burial mask. They lowered it over his face, and Cloud felt a sense of relief. It could not longer stare at him.

Around the pedestal, priests went between a set of tables. Three more bodies that Cloud barely recognized from the visits they'd paid the Royal Mother Tree.

Priest Goldflame lay in several pieces, fit together with sticky wrappings. Root Moss's body was already wrapped, as his first funeral hadn't been finished. Parts of the wrappings were torn, but had been restored as best as possible. Thorn Strong was already sealed in his coffin, brought from the River Province by Blade and Winds.

Strong, what a funny name. I should have named myself that, is it too late?

Before all of them stood the newcomer, the pine priest who had come with the new army from the west. He watched it all with unrelenting focus, talking to the priests.

"Can you adjust the mask, please?… Yes, more cloth there… Do not be so hasty…" He spoke as if giving suggestions, but his tone was firmer, more orderly.

Blade and Winds finished their conservation and hopped back, looking over the activity in front of them, they said nothing.

"You're going to do good, today," Silver said.

"Yes," Winds turned to him. "Very good."

"I hope so." Cloud responded.

Blade looked down to him. "Remember our talk? Absolute."

"Yes," Cloud said. "I will do good today. I am a King!"

"Yes," Blade said. "You are a King."

Cloud felt a tingle whenever he heard those words. He still could barely believe it.

"Let's begin," the pine priest said to them as the last body was being wrapped. Blade gave cloud another look.

"Yes," Cloud announced. "Let's begin."

The priests picked up King Flame's wrapped body, moving it to his coffin and setting it inside. They moved the lid over the top, and began to seal it.

"May Flame…" the pine priest chanted with a surprising range. "…the King Under the Sun, the King of Fire, the King of the River, the King of the Hill, and Ruler of the Plant Kingdom, ascend peacefully to the afterlife and bask under the warm sun as long as his body remains untouched. May his body remain untouched forever.”

"May his body remain untouched forever," they all echoed. Cloud had already practiced this part, and he felt he did it well.

The priests picked up the coffin, carrying it off to the wagon outside. More priests picked up Priest Goldflame's wrapped body, carrying it and its coffin to the pedestal. They gave a bow, and set the body inside the coffin, sealing it like the last.

"May Goldflame, the High Priest of the Plant Kingdom, ascend peacefully to the afterlife. May our prayers make him whole again, and allow him to bask under the warm sun as long as his body remains untouched. May his body remain untouched forever."

"May his body remain untouched forever," they echoed again.

The priests carried Goldflame's coffin out the door. They brought the body and coffin of Root Moss next, and repeated the process. 'May his body remain untouched forever' again rang through the halls.

As Root Moss left, Thorn Strong's sealed coffin was placed on the pedestal. This time, Blade joined the priest.

"May Strong," the priest announced. "Commander of the King's armies and Thorn of the Plant Kingdom, ascend into the afterlife."

"May his teachings continue to guide me," Blade added. "May his sacrifice live beyond him. As my branch brother and Thorn of the Kingdom, may his legacy live on in me." He bowed and departed to rejoin Cloud and the others.

"May he bask in the warm light of the Sun as long as his body remains untouched."

"May his body remain untouched forever," they all said a final time.

They carried the final coffin out the door. Cloud couldn't help but watch, until Silver gave him a small poke. Right, I have to lead.

Cloud hopped out the door. Branch Winds, Thorn Blade, and Silver all followed. After so long in the dim temple, the sunlight almost blinded the new King.

They approached their mounts, the King's elk stood ready. Cloud approached it wearily, the animal was so big, it scared him.

He looked back, Silver gave him a nod. You can do it. Blade gave him another look. You need to do it.

Reluctantly, Cloud did. He hadn't been off the tree for long, he'd only been able to practice riding once, on a smaller deer. Nevertheless, he whipped the elk into motion as best he could. The animal lazily stepped forward, following the procession of wagons.

Cloud had heard of past royal funerals, how the entire Kingdom would come out to say goodbye to their King. The streets were sparse, with more soldiers than onlookers. Many of the watchers did so from their windows, or the tops of nearby buildings. Some looked to the wagons, but many more studied Cloud directly. It made him feel strange, nervous.

He looked behind him, Thorn Blade was looking around. His gaze moving from the buildings to the citizens to the soldiers. Standing like columns with their spears along the road, most had come from Hammer's army, but some belonged to the River Province.

The palace came into view, the biggest building in the city, without a doubt. At the final stretch, they turned towards the entrance to the throne room. High Commander Hammer stood near the massive open doorway. He and Blade exchanged some looks Cloud didn't care to understand.

The wagons stopped, and the four coffins were carried out and into the throne room. As Blade, Winds, and Silver dismounted, Cloud looked back to his elk, giving it a stroke on the neck.

"Good elk."

He dismounted, nearly stumbling down in the process. All the same, he joined the others and marched into the throne room. Crowded on each side, nobles and high-ranking citizens from the Sun Province, as well as parts of the River Province. The room, while towering, had no roof, and sunlight freely blanketed the interior.

King Flame's coffin, of course, was set on the pedestal in the middle of the room. There wasn't room for the others, but of course Blade and Winds had planned that. Priest Goldflame's coffin was set on the floor to its left, while Root Moss's was set to the right. Thorn Strong's coffin was set in front. It left little room to move around them, but the guards quickly made a small pathway, pushing the crowd of nobles back.

Cloud hopped up the steps silently, and took his place in front of the throne. He'd practiced this many times with Blade and Winds, he could not mess it up.

The others took their places nearby. The pine priest was handed a crown of woven grass, with three green blades sticking out the top. The left one had been charred black, the right one was wrapped in sealeaf from the river, and from the middle hung an orange ring of shiny stone.

Cloud focused to keep himself from trembling, it was almost painful. He turned to the pine priest, standing before him with his crown.

"I declare you High Priest Pine of the Plant Kingdom."

High Priest Pine bowed. He lifted up the crown.

"Here, under the light of the sun," Priest Pine announced. "I, High Priest Pine, decree King Cloud. The King Under the Sun, the King of the River, the King of Fire, the King of the Hill, and Ruler of the Plant Kingdom!" He placed the crown on King Cloud's head.

Some weak cheers came from the crowd. Then, a wave of louder ones followed. Cloud looked to them, hopping happily. It was the greatest and most terrifying moment of his life. Give the speech. Blade wants you to give the speech.

"My subjects!" he yelled in a high voice. "I am honored to be your new King!" He did his best to remember the words Winds had told him.

"We have been through much hardship!" Cloud yelled. "Too much! I am here to bring it to an end! I may…"

For a moment, his mind ceased to function. He briefly looked over to the others, their faces full of urgency.

"I may be- be small!" he stuttered slightly. "But like a cloud, I will soar over the Kingdom! Sending down my blessed rain to extinguish this wildfire!"

More cheers. Winds had told him those words the previous night. Cloud thought about how clever the comparison was.

"And now," Cloud yelled. "My first decrees!"

Cloud remembered the talks with Blade and Winds, the decrees that needed to be made.

"Branch Winds!"

Branch Winds hopped forward.

"I declare you Root of the Kingdom. To assist me in my duties and to keep the Kingdom standing! Do you accept?"

Winds bowed. "I accept, my King!"

My King. Cloud would never get used to that.

"Silver!"

Silver hopped forward.

"I declare you Branch of the Province of the River, to oversee the province in my name. Do you accept?"

Silver bowed. "I accept, my King!"

The two branch brothers looked to each other, and hopped back to their places.

"Thorn Blade!"

Thorn Blade hopped forward.

"You were declared thorn by my predecessor, King Flame. I hereby renew this declaration! Thorn Blade, I task you with bringing an end to this war! To leading my armies and claiming victory for the Kingdom!"

Blade bowed. "I accept, my King! I will serve you more dutiful than ever! I will crush the Hill's armies with ferocity and swiftness! I will win this war for you, my King! And for peace in the Kingdom!"

The crowd cheered once again. Blade returned to his place. After a moment of cheer he looked back at him, reminding him. The last decree Cloud hoped he had forgotten.

"And finally…" Cloud said, weakly. "As we… as we seek to restore order… I give my last decree. Eighty-eight have been taken and charged with the crime of inciting the riot that took the lives of our High Priest and King, and burned much of the city to the ground."

He looked around at the now silent crowd.

"In times like this, we must be fair, but firm. I hereby order their execution."


Cloud felt sick. The sun was now setting. It had taken much of the day to travel to the cemetery.

"You did good. I'm proud."

"We're all proud."

Blade and Winds flanked the King as he hopped past the hillside. He looked at the holes in the rock, walled up with brick. They hopped past the first, heavily faded, with the faint image of two long sticks. Spears.

"King Spear," Blade said. "The Great Unifier."

"Perhaps you will be the the Great Re-unifier!" Winds said.

They hopped past another faded image covering a wall of bricks, the image of King Shield. Past that, the wall of King Stone, and that of King Snowflake. They made it to the last one, near the end of the hill. The workers were just finishing their work, only one brick left to be placed.

Cloud picked it up, hopping forward. He peered into the rectangular hole, into the darkness. The tomb was illuminated through the hole by the sunset. In the corner, he could barely see King Flame's coffin. Where it would sit, hopefully forever. He slid the brick into place, sealing the old King away.

A painter got to work immediately on the wall, while Cloud and the others hopped back.

"Did they have to die?" Cloud asked to nothing in particular.

Blade and Winds stood in silence for a moment.

"Yes," Blade bluntly said. "They incited a riot that ended in King Flame's death. Imagine if that had been you."

Cloud thought a moment. "I don't want that to be me. I don't want to die in a riot."

"Good," Blade said. "You shouldn't. And to keep that from happening, you have to make an example, and you did that."

"I doubt they'll think to do it again," Winds agreed.


They'd been hopping so long, Strongsen thought his stem would come off.

It had been a day of trekking before Commander Goldskye led them to the road. They all thought it would be straightforward from there, it wasn't.

They were going to the City of Ash for the Autumn festival, but so was half the Fire Province. Their unit was quickly joined by trains of wagons, units of soldiers like theirs, and other odd drifters making their way south.

To call the road crowded would be an understatement. Units of soldiers, brandishing weapons, were able to keep to the solid center of the road without attracting unwanted attention. But the more units joined, the more crowded the road became. Soon enough, the winding center was filled end-to-end with prestigious units of fire-worshippers. Hopping along with their tattoos and dark burns. Strongsen and the other sun-worshippers found themselves trudging along the muddy sides.

Strongsen felt a wave of relief as the dark buildings of the City of Ash came into view.

He'd never seen the City Under the Sun, or the City on the River, but he couldn't imagine anything rivaling the black gem at the center of the Fire Province. Already, a network of buildings growing taller across the horizon to the center, where he could just make out the outlines of wood and plaster residences up to six stories tall. He readied himself to enter the center of the Fire Province.

Until they reached the outskirts.

The crowd of soldiers and travelers slowed to a standstill. From days of constant hopping down the road, now to a single small jump, followed by a small eternity of stiff standing. The soldiers felt their stems sinking into the mud with each moment passing.

"What's taking so long?" Glowe asked, again. After so many winters, Strongsen had accepted the fact that his smaller branch brother couldn't be silenced. Though he knew the others hadn't.

"If you ask that again," Light said. "I'll keep you from going anywhere again."

Ignoring him, Strongsen bent down. "Get on top of me, see if you can see what's happening down there."

Without a moment's hesitation, Glowe hopped on top of Strongsen, who righted himself until his branch brother could see across the crowd.

"Hmm," Glowe said. "There's a lot of wagons and more things down there."

"And?" Rayy asked, impatiently.

"They're going in different ways."

Commander Goldskye spoke for the first time in half the day. "What do you mean?"

"There's a bunch of soldiers between them. The one in front has a long spear. He's pointing it in different directions, and whoever is in front of him goes that way."

Goldskye grumbled as Glowe hopped back to the ground.

"You know what's happening, Commander?" Light asked.

"Of course," Goldskye said. "They're separating us. Fire and Sun. No doubt we'll all be put in our own section for the festival. Separate, of course."

Light scoffed. "Worse, I bet."

He was right.

The soldier in front said nothing, merely pointing his spear to the right at seeing them. Sun Worshippers go that way.

Already, other units of Sun-worshipping soldiers and travelers were setting up in the designated section. As Goldskye led them in search of an empty spot, Strongsen looked around. Soldiers were discussing combat techniques against the Hill Tribes, traders had established stands to sell their wares, and further back there was a large makeshift building without a roof. A shrine to the sun, no doubt.

Goldskye found an empty area between two other unit camps.

"We put our things here," he said. "Don't lose track of it. Light, I want you guarding until sunset. Then Rayy until midnight. Then Flux until morning. Strongsen, Glowe, make us our fire."

"Yes, Commander," they all said.

Strongsen looked around. There was a stand selling rainwater not far away. Around the fire of another nearby camp, there was another Commander brandishing a captured Hill Mace.

He looked to the camp on the opposite side. There wasn't as much cheering, no loud, boisterous voices. They spoke in hushed tones, but even then, others began to gather.

"Come on, Glowe," he said.

The pair ventured over, listening to the spectacle of hushed tones and conversations. Strongsen straightened himself at the words, looking down to Glowe. He looked back, hearing the same news.

The King is Dead.


"Well…" King Cloud said. "What now?"

The faces in front of him still looked at him expectantly.

The last of the builders and servants, who minutes ago were hard at work on repairing the Royal Council Chamber, were ushered out the door. High Commander Hammer slammed it shut behind them.

Cloud looked down from his high chair at the far side of the round table. To his left, Root Winds sat. In front of him, a flat tablet of baked clay, along with its stick of charcoal, the small woven mat underneath guarding the shining table from its black dust.

Just past Root Winds, High Priest Pine rested in his own chair, with his own writing kit. Following him, the Ambassador of the River. A recent promotion from Root Wind's party which Cloud had been happy to oblige. Then, of course, the Ambassador of Fire, one of the few from King Flame's court that hadn't died or vanished in the riot. He'd put his chair in the empty space where Blade had told him the Hill Ambassador used to be.

Cloud looked to his right. Thorn Blade looked back to him. Beyond him, High Commander Hammer was just returning to his seat.

What now? Cloud thought. What am I supposed to do next?

"What now?" Blade said. "That's up to you."

"Although," Winds injected. "We do have our recommendations."

"Of course," Cloud replied.

"Firstly-"

"Can the King not speak his mind?" Blade interrupted.

Winds looked back at him. "He asked me to speak."

What is happening?

"My King," Blade said without taking his face from Wind's. "You are in charge here. I would like to hear your thoughts."

"His thoughts," Winds stated. "Are that we should stop bickering like-"

"With all respect!" The Fire Ambassador, who had barely spoken a word until now, took stage in the room. All turned to him. He waited a moment.

"I was sitting here," he said. "I and your predecessors. Priest Goldflame, Thorn Strong… we were trying not to notice that empty chair." He nodded towards Root Winds. "I can still hear his screams. Root Bark was below us, at the mercy of Commander Sharpaxe…"

The Ambassador and Commander Hammer exchanged looks.

"…this room was silent. I hope to never experience that again."

The Fire Ambassador leaned back, finished. Another moment of silence passed.

"You have a point," High Commander Hammer said. "We need to keep each other in check."

"A silent room is a suffocating one," Priest Pine agreed.

"But a loud room is a drowning one," Blade said.

The Thorn turned back to King Cloud. "Our new King is set to keep us on the right path. Are you not?"

"Yes," King Cloud said without a thought. Was that supposed to be a 'yes'?


"Will they burn us? Behead us, perhaps?"

They regretted bringing him along, Strongsen knew, but the thoughts couldn't remain inside.

Rayy looked back at him. "They will if I don't silence you right here."

"Just be quiet," Light said. "Both of you."

Strongsen didn't remember which of them had the idea to sneak away. It started with some natural curiosity. How much better is it on the Fire side? Which had led to Light and Rayy talking him into a trip across the city. He'd been hesitant to leave Glowe with the others. Who knew what trouble his little branch brother could find? Either way, they'd promised it would be quick. A small scouting mission, like the ones in the forest.

There hadn't been much in the way of guards, even if half of them had already been sucked from their posts and into the celebration. Strongsen followed the pair into the streets, where crowds of Fire-worshippers danced worry-free. The trio passed between a pair of towering dark buildings. In the road, a large bonfire had been made. Worshipers danced around it, tossing sticks and kindling into the flames and singing their cheery songs as they turned to ash.

"Fire, fire, fire!"
"Bright as Sun's light!"
"Fire, fire, fire!"
"Dancing so bright!"

"Burning, burning, burning!"
"From the fire's light!"
"Burning, burning, burning!"
"All the things in sight!"

"To ash, to ash, to ash!"
"What was once so light!"
"To ash, to ash, to ash!"
"Whatever fire likes!"

Strongsen hopped away before he could hear another verse. He felt the heat of the flames behind him. So hot, so painful. Where is the warmth?

They passed into another crowd, this one gathered around a wooden platform. The play was nearing its end, but as he heard the words, Strongsen knew the plot well.

"Burn them I will!" the actor with a branch tied to his head yelled. "Burn them I must! The heretics and blasphemers! Burn them I want!"

"Silence!" the actor wearing a circlet of crude woven grass yelled.

"For there is no afterlife!" Branch Sunswish continued. "Not for heretics!"

"Is that so!" King Stone said. "Enlighten him, Ash!"

A large actor in a black fur cloak rushed forward, chasing Branch Sunswish around the stage. The crowd roared in laughter.

"Enough!" King Stone said. "Seize him!"

Ash caught Branch Sunswish, dragging him as someone tossed a pile of sticks and dried grass onto the stage.

"It was for you my King!" Sunswish howled. "So why, my King, am I condemned!? Why, my King!"

"For one thing," the King said. "Your whining voice is worse than any burn!"

The crowd laughed.

"Speaking of which…"

He picked up a torch from a nearby post. Suddenly, Sunwish glared back at him, all sign of weakness left.

"It was for you, my King."

"I know."

King Stone tossed the torch behind the stage, a moment later, flames erupted behind Branch Sunswish. A simple trick of perspective. Sunwish let out a guttural scream before collapsing as the flames behind him whipped in the wind. Just as soon, a playrunner briskly hopped in, pouring a bucket onto the flame. The chances of the flame spreading the stage seemed remote, but he was unwilling to take the chance.

The actors rose and hopped forward, giving a bow to the cheering crowd.

"Thank you for your attention!" the actor with the grass circlet said. "This City has always been our favorite! We will be preforming again tonight, please bring your friends! Until then, we'll be in the tavern!"

The actors gave another bow and retreated from the stage as a chunk of the crowd followed. Others departed for their homes or to more exiting places. One turned to Strongsen.

"Ya' didn't like it?" he asked.

Right, that stupid accent they have here.

"Apologies?" Strongsen responded.

"Ya' weren't laughing."

"Oh," Strongsen said. "It just didn't seem… tasteful."

"I 'spose it wasn't. When I was younga', I was an' apprentice to a master. Olda' one, way old. He remembah'd this, he told me. Whole city was out to see it. Told me tha' ol' Branch was screaming, mad. Was tha' only sound, the City of Ash was all quiet that day. Even aftah' he was ash. Not ah' single face was laughing. Not one…"

His conversation had already caught the attention of Rayy and Light, watching silently.

"…all ah' them. Sun and Fire, they knew it. It hata' be done, my master said-ta' me. They all felt like brothers that day. Said these younga' ones like me didn't know. That we could'al be brothers if we really wanted."

"Why are you telling us this?" Rayy asked.

He took a moment to look to each of them. "Ya don't look like ya belong here. Be careful, brothers."

He left into the scattering crowd.


The Royal Chambers were lonely. Cloud missed the mother tree, his branch brothers. Here, there was nobody to talk to, nobody to laugh with him when he said something, anything. He missed Dew, bringing water to the tree every day.

The King set his crown on his table. It felt good to have that itching thing off his head. It felt good to feel normal again.

He took his seat at the desk. Moving the crown aside, he pulled up a tablet and a charcoal stick. Winds had been teaching him how to read and write symbols from the moment he was crowned. Winds would want me to practice, he thought. Instead, he put the point of the charcoal to the surface, and began to draw.

When he had finished his masterpiece, he stood up.

Cloud hopped towards the bed, he wanted to rest. He stopped, as he always did, looking down at the slab of stone, across it a well-made cushion, the best in the Kingdom, no doubt. Cloud remembered what Blade had said.

"Every King has died on that bed," Blade had told him days ago.

"Oh," was all Cloud could bring out.

"They died when their stories were finished, their duties fulfilled. Spear when he had united the Kingdom, Shield when he kept it together, Stone when he fixed its cracks, and Snowflake when he sang his way through the peace."

"What was Flame's story?" Cloud asked. "What duty did he fulfill?"

Blade looked back down to the spot, remaining silent for a moment.

"Doesn't matter," Blade said. "He fulfilled it."

Cloud decided not to rest in the bed, instead laying down on the floor.


Strongsen followed his two fellow soldiers through the crowd.

"We can't miss it now that we're here!" Light had said.

The three of them got as close as they dared to the Fire Palace.

In front of the large building a great fire roared on a stone platform. The earlier play was still fresh in his mind, and he made the connection. First to Branch Sunwish, then others. The Third Fire King and those before him. How many souls had been turned to ash on that large slab of stone?

The sun was setting, the fourth of the five-days of the Autumn Festival was almost done. Strongsen tried not to think of what would follow. He wasn't looking forward to hopping back north. Sitting around campfires with the others, trading meaningless jokes as a mutual distraction from the thought of imminent death. Even little Glowe, keeping him under control enough so the others don't spear him in the night. Actually, he'd had to do that even when they weren't soldiers.

He looked around at the crowd of partygoers, standing and cheering in awe of the great flame, singing their songs to it. Perhaps the Sun could see him easier now, a shining light surrounded by darkness.

Please Great Sun, he silently prayed. I don't want to fight anymore. None of us want to fight anymore. Get us out of this. All of this.

The crowd erupted in cheer, deafening Strongsen to his thoughts.

"Is it happening?" Light asked.

"They say he didn't come out last night," Rayy responded. "But it seems we'll see the Branch ourselves."

Strongsen's attention turned to the platform. After so much time, was he about to see his Branch in the flesh?

A figure emerged from behind the fire, flanked by guards. The cheering rose again. The figure hopped forward, illuminated by the light of the fire as the last light of the sun disappeared over the skyline. The cheering subsided, now mixed with questions of confusion.

"That's not Branch Tinder," Rayy said.

"What?" Light asked. "How do you know?"

"I've seen him before. Long time ago. I was hardly off the tree then, back when they let the Sun-followers this close during the festival."

Light looked back to the figure on the platform. "So that's not the Branch? Who is he?"

The figure motioned for the noise to die down. After a moment, the cheering and muttering had dissipated enough to speak. He looked around at the crowd, up to the fire, and west to the fading orange glow.

"Sunsets…" he said in a projected, but calm tone. "…they're so beautiful, aren't they?"

More mutters from the crowd.

"Who is he?" Light repeated, still looking up.

"I don't know," Rayy responded.

The unknown figure spoke again. "The daytime is a time of light, of peace. Wouldn't you agree? We all live for the day, when we can feed on the generous light of the Sun…"

"Here, here," Rayy said, sarcastically.

"…But of course, our firey, generous, Sun… it sets. It departs from our world and leaves us in darkness. Weak and cold, wishing only for the next sunrise. Make no mistake, the sun is setting…"

He looked down, longingly, then raised his head again.

"…King Flame has departed us. Swept up in the chaos of the City Under the Sun, his own citizens turned on him. And so he extinguished himself."

The few in the crowd that had apparently been living in caves until now let out their gasps and cries.

"There is a new King now," he continued. "Our new King Cloud. From what I have heard from the west, he is as soft and gentle as his name implies! The fire of King Flame has been replaced!"

The way he says these things… Something about it unnerved Strongsen, though he couldn't tell what.

"But that is not all. Oh, but I know you've taken so much already. It pains me to say: our Branch Tinder has fallen sick. As I speak now, the finest Priests from the west work to save him. Let us all pray that his fire continues to burn…"

Strongsen looked to Light. They met each other's faces, and agreed on what was happening behind those walls. The Branch is dying.

"…but there should be no worry for any of you! We are entering the night, yes! The sun is setting! The night is upon us! There will be no sun to keep us warm, nothing to light our world. The Kingdom will fall into darkness for all…"

Rayy chuckled. "How happy a thought."

"…except, of course, for us. For we have what they don't: fire!"

A weak wave of support came from the crowd. The figure turned towards the tall, roaring, flame.

"Yes! Once the sun is set! Once its warmth and light have left, we have our fire!"

He turned back to the crowd, and was met with another wave of cheer and support. This one louder than the last.

"Our fire to keep us warm!"

"OUR FIRE!" The crowd responded.

"Our fire to light our way!"

"OUR FIRE!"

"Our fire to destroy our enemies!"

"OUR FIRE!"

"Our Fire!" He repeated. "And when the night ends, when our fire has kept us alive where the others have gone starved and cold. They will turn to the east! And see before them the dawn! The dawn of a new day! The dawn-"

He fell silent, looking around at the crowd.

"My apologies," He said, chuckling. "I haven't even introduced myself!"

Rayy gave Strongsen an uninterested look.

"I am Kindle! For years I served behind Branch Tinder, I was his servant, his assistant, his friend…"

Rayy turned around, and began to hop away.

"…While he gave you your shows, gave you his speeches. I labored tirelessly behind him, keeping the flame of our Province alive alongside him!"

Light followed Rayy into the crowd. Reluctantly, Strongsen followed.

"…and I must admit. When I came to him today, as he lay weak in his bed. He asked me…"

Strongsen glanced back, the figure named Kindle looked back down in longing.

"…he asked me to give you a show in his stead. One worthy of his name. But I fear…" he looked around to the crowd. "I fear I failed. I must go…"

He turned and began to hop away. A cry came from the crowd, then more.

"No!"

"Come back!"

"We enjoyed your show, Kindle!"

He continued past the tall flame.

"Come back, Kindle!"

"Kindle!"

"Kindle!"

"KINDLE!"

He stopped, turning back.

"KINDLE!" The crowd now chanted. "KINDLE! KINDLE! KINDLE!"

Kindle looked back at the crowd. The citizens of the City of Ash, calling his name. He hopped back forward to their cheers.

"Let's go!" Rayy yelled to Light and Strongsen. There wasn't much convincing needed.

"Thank you!" Kindle said to the crowd behind Strongsen. "I don't deserve your support, truly. Would you like another show?"

A wave of cheer, the loudest one yet. Strongsen would be surprised if he could still hear by the time he returned to camp.

"Well then," Kindle said. "I suppose I'll give you a show! At least until our strong Branch Tinder returns to health!"

The news reached the camp of the Sun-warriors the next day. The Branch was dead.


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