Header Image: Deep Blue: THE Jackson Slubowski
The Palace of the Silver King was a massive castle that was once shined blindingly white, and had many complex spires and towers that made the castle appear maze-like to all who saw it. Over the years, the castle's exterior had fallen into a state of disrepair. Like all the other buildings around it, the Palace was turning a shade of slate gray. There was a river snaking in front of the castle, with a bridge going over it.
As the guards ushered the Alchemist through the gates of the Palace, he was met with the sight of the once glorious Great Hall. A towering roof held hundreds of sparkling lights leading up to the throne of the Silver King, a huge platinum seat that looked even larger when it was unoccupied. Currently, it was. The Silver King had not appeared on his throne in years, as his advisers believed it would frighten the people to see their monarch in such a poor state. But, they could not take in this sight for long, as the Alchemist was led through a series of dark hallways until they stopped at an massive, ornate door.
"This is our King's living quarters," a guard said, "Keep your voice quiet so as to not upset him. You will be monitored by our guards very closely while you treat our Lord. It is imperative that his condition does not worsen, for the sake of this world. Now, it says here that the remedy you have submitted is a ritual involving a herbal potion with medicinal qualities and an incantation that shall strengthen its effect. You have been given one hour to perform this remedy, not a minute more. Do you understand?"
The Alchemist nodded, and with a final "Good luck", the guards swung up the bedroom door. Inside the pale white quarters, sitting on his perch, was the Silver King. He was a bird of tremendous size, with platinum wings that seemed to stretch on forever, a beak sharp enough to tear through any metal, and a crown made of the finest gemstones of the kingdom. He was the creator of this world, and even now he radiated a glow that made the Alchemist stop in his tracks. However, he soon picked up on the clues that something was not right with the King. Silvery feathers littered the floor around his perch, some appearing more gray than silver. His gaze was tired, unfocused, not the eyes fit for a god. And if you looked closely, you could see the glow around him begin to flicker. As the Alchemist and the guards approached him, he got on his knees to perform a deep bow. The Silver King lowered his long neck to be on the Alchemist's level.
"My lord," said the Alchemist, "I have come to you with a remedy for your ailment."
The Silver King studied him silently, which the Alchemist took a sign to continue. He opened his briefcase and procured a murky brown mixture. "I have with me a cream made of natural plants, gold, and mercury. This concoction is known to have medicinal properties, and it will aid in curing your sickness when applied to your neck." He then took out a bag of yellow powder. "I will then perform a ritual involving a sigil that I will create around the both of us, that will strengthen its effectiveness" The Alchemist opened up a hidden compartment in the briefcase, which revealed a golden dagger. "I will then need to draw just a drop of your blood from your wing to complete the ritual, which will ensure its success."
"Hold it!" shouted a guard, whose spear instantly went to the Alchemist's neck. "You will not draw blood from our Lord in any manner! It was not part of your proposal to try this occult nonsense-"
"That's enough!" exclaimed the Silver King, speaking for the first time in a deep, booming voice that echoed around the room. "This man knows it would be suicide for everyone in this world, including himself, if he were to kill me. I will allow him to enact this ritual however he sees fit. It has just the likelihood of success as anything else we've tried."
The guard reluctantly backed off from the Alchemist, who never even flinched with a blade at his throat. The Alchemist began to lay down the powder needed for the process, forming a circle with strange patterns in it, none of which anyone in the room had ever seen before. He beckoned every other person besides himself and the Silver King to step out of the circle, and then the massive bird leaned down his neck to allow the Alchemist to apply the cream to him. As he began to rub the ointment in, the Silver King began whispering in a voice only the Alchemist could hear.
"I must ask, how did you get every administrator to sign off on your visit here? They can never agree on anything nowadays."
It was a while before the Alchemist responded. "Some of them understood my reasons for being here. Some of them didn't. They wanted me to see you all the same."
The Silver King chuckled. "That doesn't really answer my question, no?"
The Alchemist had nothing to say to that except: "It's the truth."
"Oh, I can tell," said the Silver King. "I can sense the memories and feelings of all of my subjects when they are in my presence. You are someone who seldom lies. However, you…" he paused for a moment. "Your mind is… shrouded in a fog that I struggle to see through. It's as if your own thoughts are trying to hide themselves from you."
"You have lived for thousands of years, your majesty." replied the Alchemist. "You created this world with your own strength, and allowed the creation of all of the people in it, including me. With your power, you should know I have nothing to hide from you."
"I am old and tired, very tired." sighed the Silver King. "You should know that my power isn't what it was once." He glanced out the large window that displayed the downpour outside. "Nowadays, I am unable to even make the sky a color that isn't gray."
The Alchemist glared at him with an intensity that the Silver King hadn't seen before. "Do not blame yourself for anything, my lord. The only ones at the fault for the decline of this world are those who eat away at it with their greed and treachery. They are the reason why the sky stays gray and the people have fallen into misery. Your heart merely suffers for their crimes. There is little meaning to this world if this continues."
An interesting thought suddenly occurred to the Silver King as the Alchemist spoke. "Then I must ask you, why have you come here?"
The Alchemist raised his head up, and for the first time, the Silver King could get a clear look at his eyes. They were blue, however they were not a single shade of blue. As he turned his head, they seemed to go from indigo to cerulean to almost a pale gray. The Alchemist straightforwardly said, "To cure this world."
The Silver King's beak seemed to stretch into a smile. "And yet you blame the state of society for my condition, and not the other way around." He chuckled to himself. "How curious."
They sat in silence as the Alchemist finished applying the ointment. As he retrieved the golden dagger for the bloodletting, the Silver King gave some final words to him.
"This world has existed for millenia. Throughout the centuries, I brought light to the world, and with the cooperation of my creations, I once created a civilization that I looked upon with pride. Now you can be the judge of what has become of my desires, what the people have built out of my dream. I have grown tired in my old age, very, very tired. Whatever decision you make, I shall accept." He looked straight at the Alchemist, his shining eyes glaring into his soul. "Good luck, Adam."
The Alchemist froze for a moment at the name, before steeling himself for the coming task. As he prepared to prick the Silver King's skin, a guard suddenly became too anxious to stay silent for any longer. "Your Majesty, are you sure you want this man to draw blood from you?" he cried. The Silver King nodded, giving the Alchemist the final confirmation he needed to proceed.
The Alchemist moved his dagger to the Silver King's wing, holding it an inch from his flesh. "I will believe in you forever, Holy Father." Adam whispered. "From now on, there shall be no more darkness." And in the next moment, he fulfilled his mission.
For a second, the world seemed to stand still. The Alchemist had moved in a heartbeat, so quickly that no one could react to it. The dagger in his hand shined with brilliant light. A smile appeared on his face for the first time in many years. The first sound that rang out was the drip of the blindingly bright white liquid that was pouring out of the slash that had cut through the Silver King's throat.
In the next instant, the guards had tackled the Alchemist to the ground. As a sea of advisors rushed to the Silver King's side, the great bird fell from his perch to the palace floor, the life quickly fading from his body. The Alchemist couldn't help but laugh as he was pinned to the ground. The world began to shake and warp, as if it was collapsing in on itself. The guards that had tackled the Alchemist no longer focused on him, but on the fallen god that was the lifeblood of the world. As the Silver King lay dying, he managed to cough out his final words: "How… interesting."
From where the Alchemist lay on the ground, he had a clear view of the sky through the window. Light poured through every crack in the sky, consuming the world below it. As the beacons surged into the palace, the Alchemist saw a vision of the universe, laid out before him in its vast nothingness, as a bird once again hatched from the primordial void. This vision satisfied the Alchemist as the world around him was consumed. As he closed his eyes for the last time, he could see only light.