The Heroic Legend of

Arslan

The Worth of One's Crown

Part One

"Missing Pieces"

It is the year 327 of the Parsian calendar. The royal city of Eccubatana is back in the hands of Young Prince Arslan! Yet, the last great stories of him are in record and no longer bustling about in peoples' minds. At least not as much as they had been three years ago.

For, after the great war, Arslan was crowned king and returned to the palace to rule. His wisdom and great battle skill spread his fame. Still, many years had passed. All was peace. Time is the destroyer of all great things, but the deliverer of better...

Arslan's heart was heavy. Even Daryun could not see the trouble that was within his master. King Arslan's boyish face remained, even at twenty-one. He was the most handsome man Çalive. Womyn all over had heard this and hoped for the chance of one day getting to meet the Parsian King!

Our story opens on a bright fall day in the royal city. Arslan sits on his throne, bored to tears, thinking, and doing nothing more than that.

"Daryun!" He called weakly. His voice still childlike and innocent, though it would not be called that by anyone who knew of the things he had seen in his short span of life. "Daryun, my friend, where are you?" He whined without expression. Daryun entered the room upon hearing his name.

"You called me, my Lord?" Daryun bowed to a kneel, then walked over to his friend and king.

"Daryun...The kingdom is still peaceful...is it not?" The king's head rested on the armrest of his throne. Daryun smiled.

"Of course, your highness."

"Oh good...wouldn't want anything to get exciting around here. Thank you Daryun, I thought I might have wmissed something while I was asleep. I guess I was hoping for too much!" Arslan looked angrily at the floor. He hated the way he had changed. He would surely die on this throne!

"I think your majesty has been spending a little too much time with Lord Narsas." Daryun noted Arslan's new fondness for sarcasm. Arslan was always a great leader where Daryun was concerned. He would also fight to the death someone who would say otherwise.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean...It's just...I don't know, Daryun, I just don't know who I am anymore."

"Don't think like this, Highness." He paused, "Narsas and I have been thinking that your monarchy, in order to raise the people's interest again, will need something."

"Deciding my future again, Daryun?" Arslan raised his bent body, to sit straight in his throne. He threw a questioning look at his general.

"Please don't feel I'm being too ∫hasty, but there is a hole that, if filled, could be of great use to you and place your image back in the minds of your people!" Daryun announced the strange words. He was about to go on when the king raised his head.

"Wait, Daryun...What hole do you refer to? What piece has been left out?" Arslan reviewed his own life and being with that question.

"The only one that's missing, your majesty." Narsas answered wisely from a dark corridor and then stepped into the light.

"I see...I think," the king looked at his strategist. "Dear Lord Narsas, what have you been up to...weaving more of my life no doubt!"

"That exactly, my king." He pulled out the map of the world, from that time.

"You've finished?" Arslan's happy voice sounded. Narsas smiled. "I had no idea, when I commissioned my royal artist to make me a detailed map that it would be done so soon." He took the large unrolled map into his hands. "It's beautiful, Narsas!"

"I suppo$se there could be other people who could've done better, but I don't think they exist!"

"I'm sure." Daryun said wryly with one eye brow cocked. Narsas acknowledged his friend's comment with a look and a fling of his hair over his shoulder.

"Getting back to the topic at hand, your majesty, we are referring to that smaller yet no less elegant throne to your right."

"What?" Arslan looked over. He saw the lonely chair that was jeweled and decorated, but empty. "Wait...you're not suggesting...the very idea!" Arslan rose as his two subjects nodded in agreement.

"A queen is exactly what your monarchy needs! It will put you back in the minds of your people, and that is what you want, right?" Daryun offered.

"Yes, but I do not wish to use the young woman in that way! My father and mother wÌere as far apart as two people could be! I wasn't even raised by my mother, I was raised by a caretaker. I don't want a relationship thrust upon me that's based on politics!" Arslan paced the room in front of the two gentlemen.

"Majesty..."

"No, Narsas! I will not ruin a life for the sake of my reputation!" Arslan took a seat on his throne as an exclamation to the end of his sentence. The others had come to understand this as his way of ending the conversation. Yet, considering that invitations had already been sent, Narsas just rolled his eyes.

"Dear King, don't you think that your life needs a little..." Daryun hesitated and threw a look at Narsas.

"'A little' what?!" Arslan's eyes narrowed as he rested his head against the back of his throne.

"A little life, My King!" Narsas couldn't take it anymore. This gentle monarch with the brave soul and strong spirit was wasting away on the block of gold that passed for a King's chair. Arslan's light blue eyes shot open. He hadn't noticed the change into manhood that obviously every one else had seen. He was still so childlike in so many ways.

His thoughts had never included having a girlfriend, let alone a wife! Now the time had come when his subjects and friends had brought up the question of what he looked for in a womyn. He was unable to answer, and this shocked him. He was being asked to find love, when he hardly knew what love was!

"I...hadn't thought."

"That's why we're here your majesty..." Narsas quipped without stoppin¶g, "So we better get you ready for the presentations."

"What presenta..." Arslan was lifted out of his throne with the assistance of his two friends.

"The princesses are arriving at noon." Daryun stated

"What princesses?!" Arslan said, a bit testily.

"The ones we invited."

"WHAT?!" Arslan stopped dead. "You mean womyn...Lots of womyn,Lots of unmarried womyn...are going to be flocking here...in mass hordes...in less than forty-five minutes?!"

"Yes, and that's why we must get you ready." Daryun directed.

"STOP!" Arslan's voice was no longer the voice of a friend, but the voice of a monarch. This was the king's voice, which was only used when Arslan was sick and tired. "Why did you go behind my back, and..."

"Do you expect a direct answer to that?" Narsas asked a little scared of being fired again, because he had been fired previously by Arslan's father for speaking out against war and slavery.

From there h˜e had become thoroughly sick of humanity and went to be a hermit in the back country to paint and just be alone. He had one servant boy, who was also an apprentice, who was to be freed after his studies had concluded. His name was Elam and when Narsas had joined the great war with Arslan he did, too.

Arslan had welcomed Narsas back after the war, knowing of his great intelligence that had helped him win. He was now an advisor and head artist. Narsas, remembering his long history hid it with a wry smile, and continued "...For, I fear it will only incriminate us further."

"Us?!" Daryun shot him a look.

"Yes, Narsas, I want a direct answer!"

"You never would've agreed to it, King Arslan." Narsas bowed as the words hit Arslan's ears. Yes, he probably would have rejected the whole idea. He looked lost and glassy-eyed for a moment, maybe this was what he needed. He blushed a little.

"All right." He sighed. "Where's my golden helmet? We'll give them the old 'Great Warrior King of Pars' bit˛."

Narsas and Daryun smiled. They were delighted with the idea that Arslan wanted to meet the womyn. Narsas was to make sure he didn't make a mistake and marry two kingdoms that would never work together. Daryun didn't agree with him, though.

Even though Arslan had never known romantic love, choosing for him was wrong. Daryun himself had never been married, but he was sure that Narsas had seen plenty of the female of the species in his time. Even though Narsas never spoke of any love affairs.

Still, Daryun knew that love could not be bound by books or statistics, and that if they began this with their king, they knew he would not be that same king after it was over. He would be forever changed.

"Let us go, highness." Daryun showed him into his bed chamber.

At least half an hour later Arslan emerged with much pushing from behind.

"I've changed my mind! I don't want to do this!" Arslan tried to go back into his quarters.

"Sorry, King, your throne is in that room. You can punctuate your sentenÁce in there!" Narsas groaned as he literally dragged the Ruler from his quarters.

"What if I mess up?" Arslan wanted to know, his face bright red.

"We've been practicing long enough for my taste your majesty." Daryun admitted. "You just ask each girl the same question, and give the same answers."

"How will I know?" Arslan blushed extremely. He couldn't control the goofy grin on his handsome face.

"You will," smiled Daryun. He enjoyed talking to his friend like a father even though he was only seven years older.

"Never mind that. Leave it for now. This is just a first meeting!" Narsas corrected, sounding almost excited.

"Oh..." The king's twenty-one year old face gave a fourteen year old look at the door leading to the throne room. All the other servants who helped in the castle watched, as their brave monarch saw the door, turned, and ran. The two men sighed.

"He's acting like a kid again." Narsas groaned.

"Remember, Arslan's never acted like this. He's always calm andˆ polite. He is true royalty." Daryun spoke with a serious tone. "This is definitely new to him. How did you act when a beautiful womyn approached you with a crush, which I'm sure all these princesses have for our young king, when you were fourteen, Artist?"

Narsas just smiled wryly.

"Okay, maybe I don't want to know. You're very wise, and have your ways with womyn, but remain ever the gentleman. You fought to save a prince who has earned your respect over and over, and now that prince sits on the throne of Pars, and has made you Imperial Artist. Does that not show you anything? Help Arslan as a friend now. You got him into this."

"Yes, I admit I did...Wouldn't want him ending up like you, now would we?"

"What do you mean by that?!"

"Listen to yourself, my friend! You just gave me the 'Please Help Him' speech...that's three times today! It sounds like you need a date as well!"

"No, my heart is for king and country alone, I'm a soldier, and the one that never listened to you, Narsas! I'm almost proud of that fact."

"And look where it got you!"

Daryun gave Narsas 'the Look', and Narsas just grinned. They stopped, thoroughly fed up with one another's attitudes and decided that since the princesses were arriving now Arslan should be present. They sighed and went to drag the king out...again.

Arslan sat on his throne trying hard to sink into it. His hands were squeezing the malleable gold so tightly that his knuckles were white and he would surely leave a hand print if he got free of the horrible fate that awaited him.

"Daryun, come here." Arslan whispered as he cranked his neck around a corner of his throne, where Daryun stood.

"Yes, your Highness?"

"Remind me to fire Narsas later." Arslan grimaced as the first royal lady approached.

"Of course your majesty." Daryun laughed and walked away.

"Narsas, come here, please." Arslan brought a twisted smile to his face.

"Yes, my king?"

"Remind me to fire Daryun later."

"Of course, your majesty." Narsas said laughing, he knew Arslan #was kidding. He loved saying things like that. Narsas walked away laughing to himself. Daryun was doing the same only walking toward him.

"What's so funny, my friend." Daryun asked.

"Just something the king said." Narsas said swallowing the laughter.

"Oh really? Me too." Daryun admitted. The two laughed again, as they stopped and eyed each other.

"Wait! What did he say to you?" Narsas

"You first!" Daryun ordered.

Arslan stood up to greet the princess, and soon to be Queen Linea, of Brenh, the country to north of Pars. As he did this he heard a strange noise from out in the hall.

"HEY! WAIT A MINUTE!"

Arslan smiled evilly. He loved doing that to those two, and he had pulled it off quite nicely many times in the seven years he had known them.

"Greetings lovely lady Linea of Brenh! I welcome you to my humble land and offer my hospitality while you are with us." He bowed low for respect as usual, but as he rose... "I've heard far and wide of your. . .beauty. . .and. . .grace?" Arslan's eyes met the womyn before him. He nearly fell dead to floor. Let's just say she was not blessed with the beauty that Goddess Ashii usually gave her children!

"Oh really? Thank you, wonderful King! I have to admit, I've wanted to meet you for a long time!"

"Really? That's a...uhh...Lovely," and he used that term loosely around Lady Linea, "and you would never have had that opportunity if it wasn't for this little gathering, right?" Arslan shot a look of pure demonic anger towards the back of the room where Daryun and Narsas rested against the Øwall. The lady grinned distorting her already distorted features

"Consider him repaid, Daryun," Whispered Narsas.

"Yes, I'm considering it right now." They both chuckled. "Though it is my duty help my King, but...ow! My leg!"

"Why what ever is the matter, Daryun?" Narsas restrained all out laughter as he feinged worry.

"My leg! I can't walk, oh dear! I can't help, my leige!

"That is too bad. What ever will Arslan do now?" The two keeled over in royal hysterics as Arslan turned to the 'lovely' thing before him. And as he tried to press himself back into his throne as the womyn droned on and on about her country, he knew that this was going to be a very long day...