The First Immortal

by Crooked Djinn

Chapter 4

Khalifa's private ship- The Aristarchus- docked in Babel, the town that surrounded the giant platform that lead down into Agartha. It had been a long flight and he was slow to move from his bed. After a quick bathing, change of clothes, and grooming, he emerged from his cabin and out onto the deck. Rafinar had been standing on the air-dock and patiently waited along with his fellow servants. Once Khalifa stepped onto the gangplank and descended, they all bowed their heads in unison. Khalifa smiled and threw out his arms and hugged each of them tightly. It had been a long time since they had seen each other. Much too long for a simple 'hello'.

"Welcome home, Lord. I hope you'll excuse us. We received word of your arrival on such short notice that we hadn't time to prepare the carriage." Rafinar said humbly.

But Khalifa only threw up a hand and walked past him.

"No worries. I prefer to walk."

The scientist was already moving far away from the group of servants, a man closely following him and carrying his books. Rafinar and his team all sighed with a chuckle and moved to follow him through the crowd. Babel was as lively as always. There was music constantly in the air and performers lining the streets. It all came rushing into Khalifa's senses so suddenly. He had grown accustomed to the tranquility of Empyrea-Larsa that he had almost forgotten the world he had left. A world of non-stop celebration. Even in the day the people shot fireworks. Even though one could hardly appreciate them. Great big bonfires stood tall in different sections of the town. They all burned brilliantly in the day like beacons. Elegant dancers and entertainers roamed the streets in brightly colored feathers and brilliant beads. They all approached Khalifa, blocking his way. It took a whole hour before they all finally reached the platform. Khalifa was hunched over and panting for breath.

"I forget how difficult it can be to move through that sea of people...."

Rafinar was patting him on the back whilist the others called the elevator that lead down into the cavern. Loud gears began turning and clicking under them as they waited for the elevator to ascend. Khalifa looked down into the circular chasm, watching a shadow draw closer to them by the second. A servant handed him his key, a circular stone with engravings on it, and he placed it carefully into his pocket. Soon enough, the gears stopped and the elevator was level with them. They all stepped on, a lever resting in the center. All the servants took a seat, folding their legs as Khalifa wrapped his palms around the steel bar and tugged.

The platform seemed to free-fall and the bright day was replaced by the dark shaft lined with red lights. Air raced past them as the elevator plummeted to the center of the Earth. In no time they reached Agartha, aligned with the South Bridge, Charon. Everyone stood and they all began to make their way through the small tunnel that lead into the outer rim of the cavern. Seeing Agartha again filled Khalifa with a homely feeling. Something he had missed in his time away. Immediately they headed for the docks, not wanting to walk along the mile long bridge. They would go across the water by ferry. The trip to the palace was uneventful. Everything was just as Khalifa had left it a month ago. Still busy and bustling with life. All the way from the market to the palace.

Finally Khalifa reached the palace and was standing outside of the throne room. He tidied himself, straightening his hair and asking Rafinar for a second opinion. Rafinar assured him that he was presentable and calmed him, like he always did. The guards standing on both sides of him then opened the massive doors. Khalifa's eyes followed the dark red carpet as it trailed all the way to the steps of the king's throne. But to Khalifa's surprise, Judea was sitting upon the throne. As he entered, he saw that none had been in the court aside from Judea. Neither said anything as Khalifa moved towards the throne. Then Khalifa came to a stop a few paces away from the steps and bowed. He maintained the gesture for a long while, waiting for Judea to tell him to rise. But the word never came and Khalifa looked up slightly to see Judea sitting back with his eyes shut. He erected himself, cocking his head to the side in curiosity. Judea had been asleep.

Judea's chest rose and fell slowly with the sound of a breeze blowing through trees. His face was pale and gaunt, much like his fathers. And from the distance, Khalifa could see the slight aura around the prince's legs. Magical enhancements to help him walk. Rafinar humbly approached his master with a bowed head and said,

"Perhaps it's best if we come another time? His Majesty has been very busy as of late."

Khalifa considered. But shoved the idea off. He didn't come all that way with news, just to be delayed. Stepping forward, he cleared his throat loudly in an attempt to wake the prince. When he didn't stir Khalifa then raised his voice.

"I had hoped my friend would at least give me a warm welcome." he said loudly.

Then Judea cracked open his eyes weakly. And seeing who had come to see him, they shot open and focused on the man before him. He sat up in his throne and pushed himself to stand. It was a grim sight. Fully standing, one could see how thin he was. Almost like a dead man and his robes did little to hide that fact. Khalifa would have recoiled had he not known what to expect. Regardless, he smiled, as well as Judea. They moved towards each other and embraced one another.

"Khalifa, you've come home!" Judea exclaimed.

He rested his bony hands on Khalifa's shoulders, more so to keep his balance.

"And I've not returned empty handed. I come with news."

Judea's face then dropped its smile and adopted a more serious expression. The prince looked around for any other presence, but seeing only Khalifa's servants, he spoke again.

"About the project, yes?"

Khalifa nodded. Judea then flashed his eyes to the others, gaining Khalifa's attention. The scientist nodded and then turned to his servants.

"You may all leave us."

With a very deep bow Rafinar and the others withdrew from the room, leaving the two alone.

"Go on then. Tell me what you've found."

The prince then made for his chair and over the next few minutes, Khalifa explained his plan. As he went on, he realized how right Judea was to remove the others from the room. It sounded down right heretical. As Khalifa finished his explanation, he watched for any sign of Judea's disapproval. He would get none. But Judea was still hesitant. Khalifa saw this in the way Judea avoided his eyes. The room was silent once more and the only sound reaching their ears was the crackling of torches.

"You can see why I am still apprehensive..."

"Yes yes. I know this. But I do intend to convince you. Think of it. You said that the cure may lay in heaven. What if it literally does?"

Khalifa leaned in close, his eyes staring into his friend.

"....What do you mean? Binding a unicorn to a celestial body is all well and good. But a man?"

"Forget about mere celestial bodies. What I'm planning for you is much grander than that."

Judea then thought to himself. And as he did, he felt a twinge of excitement and dread spring up within him.

"Mettatron." he said allowed.

Khalifa nodded, a broad smile on his lips.

"But that's-"

"Judea! Look at you!"

Khalifa pointed at his friend who sat on the throne. More so to his legs.

"Look what this plague has done to you. Too many of our people. Think not of yourself, but of them. With this, we can find a way to end it for good."

"But Khalifa. The church wouldn't have it. They'd never allow such a thing."

Khalifa was then silent. He had over looked the church. As well as the extremist. If any of them found out about the project, there would certainly be complications. Still, Khalifa persisted. Leaning in close, placing his hands on the arms of the throne.

"How long do you think you have? Even the king is on his last leg. He won't last much longer. And with you ascending the throne after him and already plagued, who knows how long you'll last. Judea, this is a matter of time. I've found a solution, all I need your word."

Judea inched back, intimidated by his friend. But he still admired Khalifa's conviction. He had always admired his ability to fight for what he wanted. Always committing himself wholly to an idea. But it was also what made him so stubborn. Judea supposed it wouldn't hurt to be more like his friend. After all, he proved a point. How long would he last? How long would it be before he was no longer himself? A walking amalgamation of magic and machinery? This was his only way out and as he thought more about it, the more his thoughts began to align with Khalifa's.

Through this entire internal struggle, Khalifa awaited the prince's answer patiently. He knew Judea would be fighting a war with himself.
A long silence enveloped the too. It seemed to surround them like a darkness, snuffing out the torches and stealing any light that was left. It was a thick silence, filled with hesitated words and second guesses. Khalifa watched as Judea's eyes flickered back and forth. They were like a metronome of sorts. Each second ticked by, faster than the last, building up until finally Judea sighed in defeat. But then he smiled, looking up at his friend and out stretching his hand. There was something about the look in Judea's eye. Something Khalifa had never seen before. There was a fire. A determination. But not the usual kind. It was almost....'tainted'

"Very well Khalifa. You've convinced me..... I'm willing to do whatever it takes."

"Whatever it takes." The words echoed back at Khalifa like a recording. The phrase resounded within him and froze him in place. It implied a sort of maliciousness. An evil that if left unchecked, could haunt the both of them. In that moment Khalifa began to doubt. He stared further into Judea's pale eyes, now bright with determination. For a moment, he felt he should back down. Take away his proposal and pursue another means of creating an alicorn. But this self doubt only lasted as long as he willed it and he soon threw it away. His hand met Judea's with a loud clap that echoed off the walls of the throne room.

"Whatever it takes." Khalifa repeated aloud.

Judea moved to his feet with Khalifa's help, standing taller than he had previously.

"We will begin immediately. You'll need a team. Agartha's top minds. And a laboratory. Little K'veer would be ill fit for this big a project."

"While I hate to admit it, you're right. How about Empyrea-Larsa? Isolated, calm, none to poke their noses in business that isn't theirs."

Judea only shook his head as they both walked along the carpet.

"No. I want you close. Here in the city. I want to have immediate access to you at all times. The unicorns' forest is much too far. And I would rather keep as many humans as possible out of Empyrea-Larsa."

"In the city? Then what about District Five? There is a space we can use."

"The military academy? It's been abandoned for years. And it's much too small."

"Yes. But we can add to it. Build more facilities. Though, that'd cost some money..."

"Money is not an issue, Khalifa. The issue is Father. I doubt he'd sit well with me just going off and building a lab. Especially with our intentions."

Khalifa paused. The king was a variable he had overlooked. In his head, Judea was practically king. It'd make everything definitely easier.

"What do you plan to do then?" Khalifa asked. The both of them were standing by the large doors that lead into the hall when they turned to each other.

"I will simply ask him. I just won't tell him what it's for. And if he asks, I'll tell him 'it's strictly for the Alicorn Project.'"

The prince chucked softly, surprising his friend. For all the time he had known the prince, he had never known him to lie. Especially to the king.

"In the meantime. I want you to gather a team. Lord Malik'hen would be a valuable asset to the project."

And that was true. Lord Malik'hen had headed such a project before thirty years ago. Judea imagined he'd jump at the chance to take his research on step further. Malik'hen and Khalifa were very like-minded, in his eyes.

"I will see what can be done. Though I imagine there will be many who decline..."

"Even so. I want you to choose carefully. And try to be discreet. We wouldn't want the project to go up in flames before it even began."

"Aye."

Judea then gave a resounding clap in imitation of his father. It was powerful, yet empty. It lacked the same commanderous impact his father's carried. Yet it still compelled the guards outside to throw open the great doors to allot Khalifa's exit. Khalifa stepped out, nodding to his servants. Now in more so in public, he gave a bow to the prince. Judea returned the gesture and spoke to him before he turned to leave.

"I expect you within a week. By then I should have everything prepared." the prince said.

"Then I'll return with a list of names. Until next time."

The two waved each other goodbye. Getting one last look at Judea, Khalifa noticed that he no longer look as frail as he was.

---

The large door to Judea's chambers flew open with a loud resounding boom. The sound of Khalifa's heels on marble soon following. He was worried. Hours ago he heard that the prince had suddenly collapsed while in court and was bedridden. Had his physicians not been present, he very well could have died. And to think Judea would have died the day of their meeting. Khalifa halted at the prince's bedside after pushing through the many visitors. Lords and friends all huddled around the large bed to lay their hands and bless their prince.

Among them was Master Ro'Dahni, a friend of the both of them and also one who had a roll in Amlthea's creation thirty years ago. But Khalifa hardly greeted any of them. He was too busy staring at the prince who had his eyes shut tightly. His breathing was as rigid as a mountain peak and sweat poured from him like rivers. His hands trembled by his sides as the doctors tended to him, injecting him with medicine and providing magical treatment. Eventually, the doctors left the room and soon after Judea willed his eyes open to see his bed surrounded.

He moved to sit up, but as he did everyone in the room rushed to him. Telling him to remain flat, but he failed to listen. As he struggled to sit up right, the covers fell from his chest, revealing a matted and mangled torso. Judea's body was wracked with scars and burns. Much like other plague victims. One particular scar ran along he chest, slithering up his body like a venomous snake. His eyes were even paler than before. Now even much paler than his father's. His arms were thin, almost like tree twigs and you could see his bones poke through the underside of his skin. Still, Judea smiled yet. He looked around, eyeing each of his friends and confidants. But once his eyes trained on Khalifa's worried face, he opened his mouth to speak.

"Out."

Everyone in the room jumped back at the sudden ejection. Some moved to protest but Judea wouldn't listen.

"Out. The lot of you. Lord Khalifa and I have urgent business. We must be alone."

The room was then filled with worried murmurs, followed by the shuffling of feet as each man made himself absent. All exits leaving a 'Well yourself soon, my prince.' Soon enough, Khalifa and Judea were alone in the empty room. There was a silence that oppressed them. Neither of them could find words for one another. And as he sat in his bed, Judea could feel his friend's eyes slowly trace his body in horror.

"It's fine for now. Though I'd say I cut it rather close this morning. I was overexerting myself. They say I'll have to be more careful if I wish to avoid anything like this in the future..."

Judea tried for conversation but all the while he refused to turn his head to look at his friend. He was clutching his bed sheets, almost pulling at them and wanting to cover his body. They remained in silence for a long while until finally Judea spoke again.

"This body... It's withering. I can feel this body decaying. I'm more or less a shadow now. Everyday I grow further and further from the others. Everyday I must endure their magic and medicine. Every single day I have to fight just to move an arm or a leg. I'm not my father, Khalifa. I can't keep this up. I'm scared. Honestly I am. I don't want to die; certainly not like this. I'm not ready. Yet I can't stand the treatment day after day. The magic that swirls within me burns like coals in my lungs. I need braces just to keep me upright. My muscles are so loose that I can hardly hold a quill. Almost half of me is artificial. Soon I'll be nothing of my original self."

Judea then snapped his head to the side to stare at Khalifa. Tears were in his eyes and rolled down his cheek to mix with the sweat from his brow.

"I don't want this! I'm willing to do anything! I'll damn God in Heaven if I have to!"

He fell over coughing. It was an ugly cough, one that made Khalifa cringe and look away. He wanted to cover his ears, just to escape from the horrible sickly sound.

"I've nearly lost faith in everything, after this morning. No amount of prayer or medicine will help me."

The sickly prince then leaned over to his bedside, clasping Khalifa's wrists in his weak hands. Khalifa was then kneeling, his heart pounding in his ears and shaking.

"I believe in you. Deliver me from this great sorrow. Support me in all my bouts with this damned plague and save me!"

Khalifa was speechless. Never in all their time together had he ever seen Judea so broken. So afraid and distraught, it was like talking to a different person all together. A total stranger. He was a completely new and different man. Yet he felt a connection with the stranger in Judea's body. And like before, he felt a warm friendship with him that was stronger than ever. Khalifa felt a sliver of doubt cut into him. What if they couldn't find a way to make him immortal? Even if Judea survived through treatment and magic, there was no telling what that'd do to his mind. Judea certainly wasn't his father or any great man of mental discipline and fortitude. He was a simple man now. A man that shared the same fears as any other.

"Judea. I promise on all that I am that I will save you. Even if I must climb down into Hell for you, I will do it! Without hesitation! You are my friend and to see you like this is greater than any sting or wound. You just tell me what I need to do."

Khalifa was standing tall on his feet, filled with the same passion that compelled any man to act. Judea stared up at him, his long hair slightly obscuring his view. To the prince, Khalifa looked like a great man who stood high among the people. A man that Judea felt he could never be. At least in his current state.

"Khalifa. You are truly a great man, one I can wholeheartedly admire."

Judea then looked down at the bed that seemed to rope around him like bindings. He hated it, he even grew to hate sleep. His bed was like a prison and he so desperately wanted out. But he then smiled, knowing that soon he wouldn't have to be bound. But in order for him to achieve that goal, the both of them would have to deal with an obstacle. And now that he knew Khalifa was truly on his side, he felt it right to tell him what said obstacle was.

"Father has ordered the cancellation of the project."

Khalifa snatched his hands away, balling them into fists.

"What!?"

"The church. They found out about the attempt to conceive an immortal being. The Pope offered him a deal. Either he cancel the project, or have the news reach the public. He would be viewed as a heretic by all, and naturally face execution by the church. You can see why he chose the former. And not only that. Sense he named you head of the Alicorn Project, the church has ordered him to confiscate everything you've worked on. You will lose everything you have. From your projects, inventions, magic, and even K'veer. They want it completely swept under the rug."

Khalifa then felt weak in the knees and felt blindly behind him for a chair. Finding one, he collapsed into it with his face still in shock. For a moment he was deaf and blind to everything around him, still recoiling from the shock. His life would be ruined, completely erased. Everything he was would go up in flames and he wouldn't be able to do anything. The world began to fall down around him and despair coiled around him like vines.

"But. There is a solution." Judea said.

A light shined in the dark that was Khalifa's current mind and he looked up to see Judea smiling.

"You have a plan?" he asked excitedly.

Judea had always been good in getting himself out of a bind. And Khalifa always loved to see how. But the smile fell from Judea's face and was replaced by a deadpan stare.

"What I'm about to tell you is very dangerous. You'll be putting yourself at risk. I need to know what you're willing to do for me."

Khalifa insisted that Judea could trust him. And there was never a time when he couldn't put faith in him. And so Judea relented, steeling himself for what he was about to suggest.

"We kill him."

Khalifa's jaw fell, his eyes bulged, and he gripped the arms of the chair tightly. A sudden wave of illness and nervousness swept him away and he felt like he was going to be sick.

"And the Pope. For what we're planning, I will have to rule all. The world, and the church. I must be absolute! Make it so none can interfere with the project!"

"And you would murder your own father?"

"Look at me! What alternative do I have!?"

Of course, there were no other options available. Like Judea said, he would need to be able to move freely without any restriction. Even if that meant regicide. It was then that Khalifa had nearly completely shut down in thought. Once again he found himself struck with doubt. He doubted if he himself were even capable of something so heinous and terrible. He had always been a selfless man, but to murder someone on behalf of another was something that conflicted with him greatly. But then he looked up, ready to make his decision. He considered, pondered, and broke down every mental barrier that stopped him from agreeing. And the last wall fell when he looked into Judea's eyes once more. Those decaying, sickly pale eyes that mourned the loss of a body and mind.

Khalifa nodded in agreement and as he did he felt his stomach knot and something get stuck in his throat. All in an instant he became paranoid and nervous. Glancing over his shoulder even though nothing had been behind him but a wall. Judea sighed, relieved. Then he chuckled, a sickly laugh only produced by demons.

"When do we move?" Khalifa asked.

Judea moved to get out of bed, throwing his legs down onto the floor so that he may stand.

"Now."

"Now?!"

"Is there a problem?"

Khalifa moved to speak but held his protest. He figured that sense he had already agreed, it wasn't his place to pick the time or place. Instead he watch Judea walk lightly over to the armoire at the edge of the room. Opening the doors he reached inside with his thin arms and Khalifa could hear the clanking of glass vials and bottles. Then the prince pulled his arms back, retrieving a flask of clear liquid.

"We poison him. We can make it seem like an assassination. If need be, we can blame it on extremist and radicals. They already made an attempt on his life weeks ago."

"I had heard. A man approached the court and held him at gunpoint."

"A reckless extremist. But we have an advantage. We aren't strangers here; we are able to move freely through the palace. No need to conceal ourselves."

He closed the armoire and moved to his wardrobe. As he got dressed Khalifa took that time to think of every scenario. Various different paths and methods crossed his mind. What he should do in the event that X happens, or how to act when Y happens. Through his thoughts there was the ever present nervousness and shakiness. Khalifa could hardly believe he was actually going through with it.

"Khalifa? Are you listening?" the prince asked, throwing on thick robes that hid his thinness. He hid the vial of poison in his sleeve and then moved to tie his ragged hair behind him.

"Sorry. Just fell into thought." Khalifa replied.

Judea gave a weak smile, the best he could muster given what was about to take place.

"You never stop thinking, do you?"

"I'd say I think too much."

"Ah but that's good. Never stop thinking Khalifa. I need your ideas."

Judea slowly glided over to his friend who still sat lazily in the chair. He raised him to his feet, both of them now standing eye-to-eye.

"Ready?"

"Aye."

When the both of them stepped into the hall, they found it empty. The corridor was dark, lacking torches and only receiving dim light from outside the windows. It did little to hinder their movement though. Both of them knew the palace by heart and were able to navigate it like the back of their hand. There was nothing said between Khalifa and Judea. They carried a silence within them that muted their mouths and gripped their hearts. With each step they found themselves walking further and further into dread. Especially Judea, who would do the deed personally. He wouldn't dream of forcing such a burden on his friend. When they came just in front of the king's chambers, Judea held his arm out to halt Khalifa. He then turned to him laughing out of worry and nervousness.

"I want you to wait here. Don't worry about the guard, I've payed them off. None will be able to stop what's about to happen. The attack on the church will also be taking place around this hour. Thankfully, the Umbran Guard favors me more so then my father. They'll make quick work of the pope."

"You bribed them? Then you had already came to a decision long before this?" Khalifa asked, a little bit too loudly.

Judea then stepped back to hide his embarrassment.

"Yes I must confess. As soon as he denied my request and halted the Alicorn Project, I began to plan. I would have done it regardless, but then I'd have to keep it from you. And to be honest, I'd rather remain truthful to you than conceal it. That being said, I'm glad you're here. Your presence will give me the strength I need."

Khalifa couldn't help but smirk at his friend. Judea hadn't changed at all, ever since they were children. He always looked to others for his strength. He actually told Khalifa once that he had no strength of his own. That he called upon others to empower him and without any of his friends, he would be vulnerable. Khalifa didn't comprehend what he meant back then, but as they stood in that darkened hall he began to understand. Before Khalifa could reply, Judea pulled away and made towards the dark wooden door that lead into his father's room. For a moment he hesitated. He then took several deep breaths and pushed on the door slightly.

He peeked through the door to see King Kerath standing by a window that looked down into the harbor below. He stood tall, hands clasped firmly behind his back. Still the centuries old wise man that commanded the world. For a moment Judea backed away, but felt some force push him forward further into the large room. Kerath still hadn't noticed his presence and maintained his half-blind stare out onto the cityscape. Judea closed the door behind him and as he did, Khalifa moved closer and stood by the door and waited. Judea took another step, a step that locked him into the room and alerted the king. Kerath slowly moved his head to the side to see who had come to him. Seeing the prince, he slowly turned his gaze forward again.

"Are you doing well?" Kerath asked.

"Yes. I came to see if you were well yourself. You've been confined to your bed for a few weeks now."

"Pha! What I wouldn't give to rid myself of that damned bed. Come, sit with me."

The king motioned towards two ancient-looking ornate chairs. He sat in one carefully, not wanting to plot himself down too hard. Quickly Judea went to seat himself, shaking as he lowered himself into the seat.

"How has court been for you?" Kerath asked, as he tried to keep up conversation.

"It has been bearable."

"Are you seeing your physicians daily?"

"Yes."

"I hear Lord Khalifa has returned. Haven you told him the news?"

Judea didn't reply. He only gripped the arms of his chair, digging his nails into the wood work. A long pause blew between the two and for a moment, only breathing could be heard.

"....I am sorry. But you must know that I was hardly given a choice. I did what was best for our family."

Though Kerath gave an apology, it didn't feel sincere. It felt like he was merely making a business deal.

"Where is Khalifa? I had hoped to hear his findings at least. And his time with unicorns."

Kerath laid back lazily in his chair, covering his mouth as he yawned. Having spent so much time in bed he constantly felt labored and tired. As if his body had grown accustomed to the soft sheets and plush pillows. It was like his body craved sleep.

"He says Amalthea and her people wish to have you again. And she sends her regards, wishing you well in your bout with the sickness."

Judea maintained a stone face, looking at his father, but in away that he avoided eye contact. Kerath nodded, smiling and happy that the unicorn wished him well. 'If only I could ride her. Just once.' he thought wistfully to himself. But his thoughts were severed from him when Judea suddenly stood.

"I'll pour you something. You're healthy enough for wine, yes?"

"I'm not healthy enough for much these days. Oh but what does it matter? It has been a long time since we've shared a drink. Pick what you like, most of them have gone untouched for a very long time."

Judea nodded and went to the long table that lined the opposite wall. He was now behind Kerath, able to lace the wine with his father's death. Kerath only continued to stare out the window, watching his city. Judea took his time selecting a bottle. All of them looked rather expensive and aged perfectly. Each bottle was different. Whereas some were tall with skinny necks, others were very short with wide necks. Judea selected from the tall selection, a foot high black bottle that smelled of berries. He uncorked it, blessing the wine a chance to breath. Retrieving two crystal glasses he began to pour the tasteful wine into their vessels. Then he paused and took a deep breath. He glanced over his shoulder from paranoia of being watched. Then he glanced at the door, gaining confidence from his friend who waited. He then reached into his robes and retrieved the vial of poison. He said something under his breath, something that no man would ever hear but him.

He opened the vial and carefully poured its contents into his father's glass. It melded perfectly with the black wine, causing a spiraling stir. Then he waited for the waters to calm and hid the vial. Eventually, the wine was still once more, only stirring when he took the glasses in his shaky hands. His hands passed one glass into the hands of his father and he sat back down adjacent to him. This would be the last cup of wine they'd ever share together. Judea took solace in that tender moment as he watched Kerath slowly nod his head and lift the glass up to his parted lips. Kerath calmly drank, savoring the fine taste of forty-year-old wine. As it turned out, Judea had selected a bottle that was stored on the day of his birth. Only recently had it been given to the king as a 'get well soon' gift. Had Judea known, he'd find it laughable. The wine his father drank was in commemoration of his son's birth. And now that wine and his son had come to kill him.

Judea and Kerath both lowered their glasses at the same time, with only milliseconds separating them. Kerath was silent, smiling and humming a soft tune. He had enjoyed the wine and was trying to think of another instance where he had been happier. For what greater joy was their in sharing wine with one's own son? But suddenly, the king's bright smile fell into a frown and the humming came to a crashing halt. The glass dropped from his trembling old hands and he grasped his throat. Kerath began rocking back and forth, stomping his feet and coughing. Judea then stood, his bangs falling over his face to hide his hallowed pale eyes.

[PLAY]

Kerath's own white eyes were filled with a fiery rage. He knew. He knew his son had murdered him and he stood as well. Judea was then surprised, seeing his father stand so suddenly. And in that moment, he realized just who he was trying to kill. He was trying to kill the man who ruled the entire world. A man who held together centuries of empire. King Kerath would not fall so easily. Kerath shouted, overcome with rage and struck at Judea. His old iron fist hit like a smashing meteor and Judea fell to the ground. The king then stumbled around, trying to cough up the poison as it lit his blood on fire.

"Ju-.....Judea! W-what have you done to me!? You traitorous d-dog! How dare you!"

Judea then stood, finding his own strength. A quiet simmering rage had exploded within him, pushing him to his feet like an engine. Kerath saw this as a taunt. Seeing his own son and murder standing over him as if he had one. Kerath lunged at his son, throwing his fists at him. But Judea was determined. He stood his ground and caught the old man's sluggish movements. He grasped his father's wrists in his arms and threw him to the floor. The sound of the old man's bones hitting stone echoed off the walls, along with a blood churning groan of pain. But Kerath wouldn't relent. He would not succumb to his son's hatred!

He began tearing at Judea's legs, trying to pull him down to the ground. Mercilessly Judea kicked his feeble hands away. Seeing his father try and cling so tightly to life infuriated him. He was everything that was standing in his way of immortality. He was the embodiment of everything that opposed his goal. The thought possessed him, wrapping puppet strings around his arms and legs, causing him to attack the old man on the floor. Judea hollered, throwing kicks into his father's side. Kerath moaned in pain with each infliction of belligerent thrashing. Blood began to spill out of his mouth and his face began to swell. Each kick was the sound of someone splitting wood, Judea's foot the ax and his father's rib cage the log.

The prince continued relentlessly, unable to stop himself. His heart pounded in his head and hands, sending a rush of power all throughout his body. It seemed that in that moment, he was no longer sick. He was no longer a walking corpse. He was a man, all powerful and frightening. His father would not cry for mercy or show any sign of relenting. It only fueled Judea's anger more. His father would not give up. He was so determined to stand between Judea and his life. His kicks became more violent. Sloppy and uncoordinated. He began digging his heels into Kerath's ribs cruelly and out of disdain. It was then that Khalifa had entered the room, hearing the commotion. What he saw struck a chord in him. It made him freeze in fear and made him go numb. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the murder, almost as if he was enthralled by the sheer ferocity. He watched every second from then on and observed quietly.

Kerath eyes were swollen and blood coated his face. But he could still see. He could see the manic look in his son's eyes and the horror filled gawk of Khalifa. Blood, as well as bone was flooding his lungs and he struggled to draw breath with each inhale. His vision was blurring and his hearing and sight depleted rapidly. All the while Judea delivered his savage kicks. Eventually, he fell numb and cold. Khalifa watched the king's hand drop to the floor in a thud. It was a thud that seemed to be even louder than Judea's own screaming and thwacks of his foot. King Kerath was dead.

The fall of his hand snapped Khalifa out of his trance and he gasped. Then he saw Judae, still kicking away. He rushed to him, wrapping his arms around the prince and trying to pull him away. But Judea over came him with surprising strength. It became a struggle between both friends, but Judea was rapidly losing as Khalifa slowly pulled him away. He then lost all energy suddenly, going limp and falling to the floor. The adrenaline flew out of his body, sucked away by the disturbed air. Khalifa fell back into a chair, heaving and in a slight panic. But Judea could do nothing but stare at his frail hands. His eyes kept darting between his hands and the dead man who lay across from him. Grief, disgust, and guilt wracked him about and tears instantly fell from his eyes. Judea closed in on himself, huddling over in his robes, his hair now loose and cascading over his eyes. He wrapped his arms across himself, pulling at his sides and digging his fingers into his ribs. He howled, and it was more terrifying than any demon or phantom that stalked the night. He was a murderer. Guilty of patricide, and regicide. A king slayer and savage.

Khalifa could only stare, making no move to console his friend. He could only listen to his ghastly howls that escaped into the halls and seemed to fill all of Agartha. Prince Judea lived no more. He died right there in that room, along with his father. But from the corpse bloomed a different man. King Judea, a man who'd give anything for immortality was born. Hours later, the world would fall into chaos and mourn their king. The church would witness the death of the pope and the Vatican would crumble. A new king would sit on the throne, and with absolute power, achieve his immortality. Little did he know of the consequences that would come from his greed. King Judea Enoch Ayatollah VIII would be the harbinger of the end, and slayer of all man kind.

Comments

[The Crystal king]

you know this a cool story