"We're all going to die! King Orm . . ."
The poor man instantly starts wailing, frothing at the mouth as the guards pull the chains tighter around him. Lost between moments of unexplained laughter and the loudest crying.
Vulko stands at the side of Orm's throne, his eyes weary as he watches the King's calloused expressions.
"Jareth," Orm says again. "You must try to remember old friend. You mentioned a symbol you saw, can you tell us what it was?"
Jareth shakes his head vigorously.
"Your Majesty, one moment with this man and I will loosen his tongue . . ."
Orm lifts a finger and the guard falls silent.
"Jareth," he says. "Could you draw it?"
And that is where he finds it.A jagged circle with a line striking through it at the left. And his heart goes cold.
"You are sure?" Orm presses.
Jareth manages to get out a shaky nod. Orm lowers the board. There are so many thoughts going through his head, the first and foremost of which is what Aeryn would say. If she knew. If she only knew. But it is too late to change the past.
"Guards. Get out. Now. Have Jareth admitted for medical attention."
As soon as they are alone, and left in the blinding whites of the pillars, Vulko speaks.
"You were there weren't you?" Orm murmurs. He stares at his most trusted advisor. But he is as always, difficult to make out. "The day that my father destroyed the eighth kingdom."
"I was."
"And yet their symbol has not perished," Orm answers. "When the Trench Kingdom fell, their symbol could never again be seen. But Jareth is the fifth spy we have sent and now he meets with the same insanity of the others. There's something going on in the wreckage. I am certain of it."
"My King, with all due respect, that is not possible."
Orm starts. "Elaborate. Now."
Vulko looks uncomfortable. "I made a promise to your father . . ."
"I am your King now!" He growls. "Your promise to my father has no merit now. I am trying to protect the legacy of our people, I will not have it jeopardized by the aged words of lesser men!"
Silence. It is not the first time he has spoken of his father as a lesser man. And not the last.
"What I am about to tell you," Vulko whispers, "I was sure I would carry to my grave. It was a weapon designed by your great grandfather, passed down from king to king ever since the age of Atlan."
"What sort of weapon?"
Are those tears in his eyes? "A chemical compound contained within a shell of our most potent metal. It was designed so that if Atlantis' safety were ever threatened, the victory would be safely placed in our hands."
"And this weapon?" Now he has begun, Orm is not so sure he wants to finish it. "What did it do?"
"Your father brought an army to the borders of the eighth kingdom," Vulko says. "We never even had to enter. He released the weapon and . . ." He steadies himself. "The water burned that day. There was screaming. Yelling. It went on like that for hours. The sounds have followed me all through my dreams, the children . . ."
Orm raises a hand. That is enough. That is very much enough. And all the while Aeryn was with him, while her people were being massacred.
"There were no survivors."
Vulko shakes his head. "None. We went in there after the noise had died down and found it littered with ash and bone."
Slowly, Orm begins to nod. Though it feels like a weight is sitting in his skull. She would never forgive that.
"What is your command?" Vulko asks.
Is this necessary? For a certainty. It is not enough to risk it.
"Mobilize the army."
"Dear Diary. I've been here for six months. I can't be sure, but I think it's my birthday soon. Like, maybe a few days? I am finding it hard again. Not a good hard. Like a falling kind of hard. One step forward, two steps back. Who are my parents? What do I keep seeing when I dream? I am missing something. Something I can't forget. I feel like I'm . . . broken, somehow . . ."
Her head jerks up and the faintest smile graces her lips.
Hiding her diary under the rocks, Aeryn takes off running through the forest.
"Aeryn!" She bursts through the doors of the house to find a very panicked Orm heaving over the furniture, pulling out the books.
"Woah!" she laughs. "I . . ."
Before she's even finished speaking, she finds herself wrapped in a a bear like hug. He smells like the sea. What once used to be a struggle, but now it seems almost pleasurable.
"Aeryn?" Orm chides her as her feet dangle above the ground. "The house is a mess."
"Oh. I'm sorry." It would be very easy to kiss him from this distance wouldn't it? Just a thought.
"It is not the house I was concerned about. I thought something had happened to you."
She taps his nose. "So you thought I'd condensed myself and somehow gotten in between the books? Like some kind of book master mind? What kind of brain is that? I . . . aaahhh!" She shrieks as he shakes his head splashing the icy salt water onto her shirt. "Ok ok ok! I'm sorry alright?! I'm cleaning it up now . . ." Silence as he actually has the nerve to grin. "And I'm not going to it from up here smart ass! You can put me down now . . ."
"I think you need some kind of punishment," he smiles.
"What? No, I just apologised!"
"Yes, some time maybe. Is that a new shirt?"
Instantly she snaps to attention. "Don't you dare . . . Orm!" Her cries are oblivious as he heaves her over his shoulder, strides out onto the beach and with one big PLOP! drops her onto the edge of the sea.
The shirt goes from light blue to dark blue in one second clear, salt flies up her nostrils and there's His Highness laughing his guts up.
"Orm?" she smiles sinisterly. "You're dead pumpkin."
As she takes off running and whooping after Orm who keeps tripping in the sand, it never once occurs to her that this, this time. She doesn't feel broken. When she finally catches him, he goes down with barely any resistance. It's a tangle of legs and arms all around and laughter. Laughter that rings across the sky. No, not broken. Rather, quite complete. Or at least until Orm catches sight of something on her shoulder. Something not there before. Whatever he is, the peace is instantly shattered as he hauls himself to his feet and storms off into the forest.