When Ends Meet
"I have some work to do right now." Pankraz said, as he sat down at his desk. "Take your pet and play outside while I get this straightened out. "
"Okay!" His son chirped, as he ran down the stairs. His dad looked tired, and he wanted to ask why. But he knew he wasn't in the mood for questions, so he let the thought pass. He was sometimes like that, and just needed some time to think about his own things.
The boy's cat bounded after the small boy as he ran away.
"Are you ready to go outside and play, Pyjamas?"
The cat trotted forward towards the door and brushed his tail against the boy's leg, as if saying yes in his own way. The boy giggled as the cat's fur brushed against his skin. Even though he hadn't had Pyjamas for long, he was already starting to get used to his mannerisms. Pyjamas was pretty big for a kitten. He acted just like the neighbor's newborn cat, even though Pyjamas was more than twice as big.
He followed the cat and began to push the door open.
"NO!" Someone exclaimed suddenly.
The boy, recognizing the voice, walked over to the kitchen to see what was going on.
Sancho was frantically searching the counter for something. "Mi espátula! Donde está mi espátula!" He opened a drawer and searched through the various utensils within.
"What's wrong, Sancho?" The boy asked.
"Oh, niño," Sancho sighed as he turned around, calming down considerably to talk to the child. "It is my spatula. I've lost it. I can't possibly make a lunch worthy of you and your papá without it."
"It's okay, Sancho." The boy said. "Your food is always delicious. I'm sure you can whip up something just as good without it."
"That simply will not do!" He said, as he resumed his search. He lifted up his cutting board and moved it aside.
The boy simply nodded and left Sancho to his search. Sancho could be stubborn too, especially when it came to cooking. Not that the boy was complaining. Sancho's lunches were always worth the wait.
The boy walked to the door and opened it. Pyjamas ran out immediately, and the boy shortly followed.
It was a nice, sunny afternoon in Whealbrook. People were going about their daily business, walking from house to house and talking amongst themselves. The boy walked out into the sun and picked up his pet, who was waiting for him and moving his tail impatiently.
"You have to learn to wait for me, Pyjamas." The boy said. "I'm not as fast as you are. If you wanna play, you're gonna to have to stay with me."
The boy put his cat down, who almost immediately bounded away.
"What did I just say?" The boy giggled, as he ran after his pet. "Wait for me!"
The cat came to a halt suddenly, and rolled onto his side. The boy followed soon after, and started to rub the cub's tummy.
"You're so silly," the boy said to his pet, who purred contently in response. "How did you know I wanted to play here? The church flowerbed always smells so nice in the afternoon."
The boy rolled onto his back, next to his pet. He took a golden orb out of his bag, and held it in front of his face. It was the same orb that he and Bianca had found the other night in Uptaten Towers. He loved the way it looked, and was really happy that Bianca had let him keep it. She really wanted it too, probably. Girls always wanted pretty stuff like that. It looked so nice in the sunlight, and felt strangely warm in his hands. He moved it around above his eyes, watching how the light reflected off of its smooth surface.
He felt so calm... But was brought out of his daydream by a startling cry.
"What should I do?!"
The boy sat up abruptly and whipped around to face the sound.
The cry came from a man who was standing in front of the church. The boy had never seen him in town before, so he had to be a traveler. He wore a long, torn-looking purple cape, and a purple turban similar to his own. Funny, the boy had thought that his turban was the only one of its kind. No one else ever wanted to wear the silly thing. But his dad had to have gotten it somewhere, so the traveler probably got it from the same place.
The boy stood up and brushed the grass off of his tunic. He walked over to the man, Pyjamas trotting behind him happily, and gently tugged at his cape.
"Excuse me, mister… Are you lost?"
The man turned around. He had very muscular arms and legs, and his skin was lightly tanned, just like his dad's was. This man probably did a lot of fighting, and got his muscles from traveling everywhere, also just like dad. They would probably have a lot to talk about if they ever met.
The man said nothing, and just stared at the boy.
"Mister, are you okay?" The boy asked again.
"Oh." The man said, as he adjusted his posture. "Yes, I'm fine. I was supposed to meet someone here, but I didn't know who it was."
"That's good." The boy replied. "I'm sure he'll be here soon." The boy began to walk off. This guy was busy, and if he was anything like his dad was, he didn't like to be disturbed while thinking to himself.
"Wait!" The man said quickly.
The boy turned back around.
"That orb you have… May I see it?"
The boy glanced down. He was still holding the orb in his hand. This guy looked nice, and nice guys never stole things. After all, his dad had always taught him to share his toys with people, especially if they were nice to him before.
"Sure. But only if you promise to give it back right away!"
"Alright, I promise." The man said.
The boy held out his hand and allowed the man to take the orb.
"It's… It's amazing." The man said, as he turned it over in his hands. He turned to the side for a moment, and wiped some dirt off of it with his cloak. The boy hadn't bothered to wipe the dirt off. He was glad that the man did it, so that he didn't have to get his tunic all dirty doing it himself.
"Thank you so much." The man said, as he gave the orb back to the boy. "You have no idea how happy this has made me."
"I know, isn't it beautiful?" The boy chirped. "I've never seen anything else like it before."
"Yeah…" The man said, as he smiled warmly. "You're a good kid, you know that? You're going to do big things someday. Never, ever give up your dreams, and always reach for the stars. You'll grow up to be a fine man if you do, and someday, before you know it, you'll be married to the woman of your dreams."
"I dunno about that, mister." The boy replied. "I don't know many girls." He didn't usually play with other girls. But getting married? Only grown-ups did that. This guy probably knew lots of girls. Getting married wasn't on his mind. The boy always thought that things like that just happened naturally when you grew up.
"But I do have dreams!" The boy blurted out happily. "I'm gonna be a great warrior someday! My dad is the famous warrior Pankraz, you know. I'll be just as amazing as him when I grow up! You just wait and see!"
"I'm sure you will be." The man said.
Grown-ups always said that. The boy knew that most of them didn't mean it. They just wanted him to stop talking. It annoyed him. But something in this man's voice sounded nice. Like he actually wanted to hear him talk. The boy had always wanted an older friend, but this guy was probably just passing through. He probably knew all sorts of traveler tricks and tips that he could learn and surprise his dad with. He'd be so happy, and then maybe all of the other grown-ups would know that the boy wasn't just making jokes.
"Now, you should probably go back to your house. Your dad probably wants to spend some quality time with you."
The boy quickly nodded in agreement.
"Okay. It was nice to meet you, Mister! Come back to town again someday, so we can talk again!" The boy turned around and ran back towards his house. Pyjamas ran after him. "Come on, Pyjamas! Let's see if we can find Sancho's spatula. Maybe he left it in the cellar again."
The boy ran off, laughing merrily on this sunny afternoon in Whealbrook.
The King of Gotha stood in front of the painting, absolutely bewildered.
"Come on, dad!" Hector said, impatiently. "There has to be something you can do!"
"What can we possibly do?" The king didn't want his kids to see him in such a hopeless state, but he was truly at a loss.
"Don't give up, dad." Janice said, trying to reassure her father. "The fairy queen gave you that bauble and sent you up here. She's magical, you know. There has to be something here."
The king of Gotha took the bauble in his hand. What was he supposed to do with this worthless thing? He needed Zenithia's sacred orb, but it had been destroyed long ago, right before his eyes. Making another one was impossible, and Zenithia's power would never be restored without it. Staring at a painting was not going to make the situation any better.
"Try again, Dad." Janice said. "It can't hurt, can it?"
"You're right, Janice." Her father replied. "There must be something here that I'm not seeing. It's worth at least one more try." He put the bauble in his bag and inhaled audibly.
The battle-hardened king gazed at the painting, and soon found his sight going dim. He felt himself lose consciousness, and lost all awareness of where he was.
He suddenly woke up. As his senses returned to him, the king found that he was standing at the entrance of Whealbrook village.
H-How can this be? He thought to himself as he walked into town. He looked around nervously. But Whealbrook… Whealbrook was destroyed years ago. Yet here it was! The sun was shining, the houses were intact, and the people were walking from place to place, going about their daily business. It was as if nothing had ever happened. Was this a dream? Was he inside of his memories? What on earth was this?
There was only one way to find out.
He walked to a house near the edge of town. He felt his stomach knot up uncomfortably as he quietly opened the door.
A portly man was in the kitchen, moving about frantically. He had just opened up one of the cupboards, and was now moving the cups around inside, as if looking for something.
"….Sancho?"
Sancho jumped and then turned around at the mention of his name.
"Oh! Buenos tardes! I had not heard you knock on the door. I'm so sorry for making you come in on your own. How impolite of me."
The king grinned uneasily. "Yeah, I'm sorry for coming by unexpectedly. I hope I didn't interrupt anything."
"Oh, no." Sancho replied. "Nothing at all. I'm just trying to make lunch for señor Pankraz and his little boy."
Pankraz was here. He had to be the one that the king was sent to see. It felt so unreal… But he couldn't doubt the scene in front of him.
"Did you come to see señor Pankraz?"
The knot in the king's stomach tightened. "Y-Yes, I'm here to see Pankraz. He is up these stairs, right?"
"Si, he is upstairs, doing some work. He sent his son outside to play, so it must be important if he had to make his son leave the room. Could you come back when he is done, por favor?"
"NO!" The king blurted out.
Sancho looked startled.
"I mean… no. I need to tell him something important. I'm sure he won't mind."
"Si, if you say so." Sancho replied, as he turned his attention back to the cupboard. "Just make sure he is not in the middle of something. He hates to be disturbed."
The king felt lightheaded as he slowly walked up the stairs. He couldn't believe what was happening. If Pankraz was here… Then this must be the past. And if he was in the past… He could save his life.
Sure enough, Pankraz, with his messy hair, tan skin, and bushy mustache, was sitting at his desk and reading a book. The king quietly walked into the room.
"What do you want?" Pankraz asked, slightly annoyed.
The king jumped slightly. He didn't know that Pankraz had heard him.
"I'm very busy right now." Pankraz continued. "I thought I told Sancho to tell any visitors to come back later."
"This is really important, sir." The king said. He cleared his throat audibly
"Out with it, then." He replied impatiently. "I have many other things to do before my next trip."
"That's just it!" The king said, drawing on new energy. "You can't go to Coburg! You can't!"
"What are you talking about? Of course I can go to Coburg. Their king and I and I are good friends, you see. As a good friend, I should be able to visit him whenever I want to." Pankraz shifted in his chair, now facing the king.
"But if you go to Coburg, You'll die! You'll die, and leave your son alone forever!"
"What authority do you have to say that?" Pankraz growled, obviously angry. "You must be one of those prophets or seers or whatever. I don't believe in that stuff. Therefore you have no reason to be here, so leave my son and I alone. We will go to Coburg whenever we please."
"But that's just it!" The King of Gotha exclaimed. "I'm from the future! I know what will happen! I AM your son!"
Pankraz got up suddenly. "What are you going on about now? My son is only eight years old, and he is playing outside as we speak!" Pankraz lifted one of his enormous arms, and the king flinched in defense for the oncoming blow.
But suddenly, Pankraz stopped. The king opened his eyes when no pain came. He watched his father's muscles relax as he stood up straight. He looked at the king differently. His nearly tangible anger was replaced with something else. He seemed somewhat awestruck, and the king could have sworn that he even looked a bit sad.
"Your eyes… They remind me of my wife's eyes."
The king lowered his guard as Pankraz sat back down at his desk. He sighed heavily.
"I still don't believe you. But I'll take your advice to heart. When my son and I go to Coburg, I'll be careful. Will that be good enough?"
The king nodded tentatively.
"Now leave me be. I've got to find some more information before we leave."
Pankraz turned away from the king and back towards his books. The king walked back down the stairs, and left without a sound.
The King of Gotha walked along the village paths silently. Of course Pankraz wouldn't believe him. The whole idea was so far-fetched, even to him. Yet he was still in Whealbrook, even though he had not changed a thing. Perhaps the past couldn't be changed. After all, if Pankraz had never died, Pankraz would have returned as the true King of Gotha by now, instead of leaving the kingdom to his clueless son. He couldn't rule a kingdom. He had spent hardly any time in Gotha after his children were born. He couldn't even take advantage of an opportunity like this, to set everything right that went wrong in the past. Why was he here? What difference could he possibly make?
After all, if the past had been corrected, why would he still be here? Did it work like that?
The king suddenly became aware of how uncertain he was. He scowled as he racked his brain for an answer to his dilemma. But nothing came. Nothing happened. He couldn't have much time left. But nothing had happened yet! What should he do?
"What should I do?!"
He wasn't even aware he was shouting. His cry was raspy and desperate, but he showed no obvious sadness. His face contorted in painful anger. He was a failure to his kingdom, and to the world itself. If the rightful King of Gotha had been given this opportunity, he would know what to do. He wouldn't have to entrust the world's fate to his bumbling failure of a son.
Someone was gently tugging at his cloak.
"Excuse me, mister… Are you lost?"
He turned around to find the source of the voice, and gasped.
In front of him stood a small boy, who looked no older than eight. The boy's face was round and innocent, still young and healthily colored. He wore a purple turban atop his head, which seemed almost comically big in comparison to his cheeky little face. Behind him was a Great Sabercat that was still only a wee cub. It stood behind the boy and stared at him, as if waiting for some sort of cue. In the boy's tiny hand was clutched a golden orb that that glimmered wonderfully in the sunlight.
The King of Gotha was face-to-face with himself.
He suddenly knew what he had to do.
"Mister, are you okay?" The boy asked again.
"Oh." The king said, as he snapped out of his thoughts. "Yes, I'm fine. I was supposed to meet someone here, but I didn't know who it was."
"That's good." The boy replied. "I'm sure he'll be here soon." The boy began to walk off.
He couldn't leave yet, he still had the-
"Wait!"
The boy turned back around in response to his sudden exclamation.
"That orb you have… May I see it?"
The boy looked at the orb in his hand "Sure. But only if you promise to give it back right away!"
"Alright, I promise." The king replied. The boy offered the orb to him, and the King of Gotha gently took it out of his hands.
"It's… It's amazing." The king said, as he turned it over in his hands. He turned to the side for a moment, and wiped a small fleck of dirt off of the orb with his cape. Using his free hand, the King of Gotha quietly reached into his bag, took out the gold bauble, and switched it with the orb behind his cape. He quickly put the orb away, and handed the bauble to the boy.
"Thank you so much." The king whispered. He could feel tears welling up in his eyes. "You have no idea how happy this has made me."
The boy took notice. "I know, isn't it beautiful? I've never seen anything else like it before."
"Yeah…" The king sighed. He could not believe what was happening. This boy, eighteen years ago, had no idea that he had just saved the world.
Eighteen years later, the boy would be thinking the same thing.
"You're a good kid, you know that?" The King started. "You're going to do big things someday. Never, ever give up your dreams, and always reach for the stars. You'll grow up to be a fine man if you do, and someday, before you know it, you'll be married to the woman of your dreams."
"I dunno about that, mister." The boy replied. "I don't know many girls."
The king smiled. Of course, he thought. It's much too early for any kid his age to start thinking about marriage.
"But I do have dreams!" The boy continued excitedly. "I'm gonna be a great warrior someday! My dad is the famous warrior Pankraz, you know. I'll be just as amazing as him when I grow up! You just wait and see!"
"I'm sure you will be." The king assured.
The boy had no idea how right he was. After coming home from a journey around the world with his father, the boy would undergo many hardships and troubles, becoming a hardened fighter in the process. He would eventually marry the woman of his dreams, and return to his homeland of Gotha. There, he and his wife would pick up where King Pankraz left off, and rule his kingdom fairly and justly.
Eventually he would have kids of his own. And, like the great King Pankraz before him, he would lead them on a journey around the world, and start the cycle once again.
The boy would eventually realize that he was the luckiest man in the world.
"Now, you should probably go back to your house." The king continued. "Your dad probably wants to spend some quality time with you."
"Okay. It was nice to meet you, Mister! Come back to town again someday, so we can talk again!" The boy turned around and ran back towards his house. Pyjamas ran after him. "Come on, Pyjamas! Let's see if we can find Sancho's spatula. Maybe he left it in the cellar again."
The boy, followed by his faithful feline friend, raced along the path back to his house. The king remained in place, listening to the young boy's merry laugh until it faded off into the distance.
With a warm feeling in his heart, the King of Gotha turned around. As he passed under the arc at the village entrance, the world around him dissolved into a pure white light.
The King of Gotha, filled with renewed vigor, confidently walked into the ether on this sunny afternoon in Whealbrook.