A quick catch up for those who have kinda forgotten what happened in previous chapters, but if you remember, skip this author's note entirely. Chapters fifteen to twenty one or two, (I'm not quite sure on that) is how Soturi became trapped in the astral plain and how his brother Veli became the Lich King. The Ruman's had a law that no info from their archives can be given to any other sentient being. Soturi and Veli broke that law when they gave a city to Mayans and Aztecs, or rather Maytecs when they joined their civilizations. When their father, King of Rumah found out, Veli alone was blamed and the punishment was death. But King Jalo couldn't kill his first born son and put in in a cell where he remained for almost 1,000 years, then he was possessed by a black cloud that made him escape, kill the woman he loved, Rinnat, and his father. It also made him leave a long scar on Soturi's face. Then he escaped to Earth. Fueled by the support of his people, Soturi vowed to kill his brother and he would not return until he has done so.

Chapter 18 Sic Semper Tyrannis

"That should do it." Soturi said as he shut the small opening to the transporter he had just finished building. The blueprints of a transporter had been mysteriously deleted from the archives, something that is impossible to do. That meant Soturi was forced to work from scratch.

"Should I test it now?" Gob asked with its electronic voice as it hovered off of one of the desks in Soturi's workshop and then positioned itself right next to the transporter. Soturi answered with an immediate nod; but as soon as Gob placed its hands on the metal grips, the king had a horrible thought and realized he might have to be somewhere else for the short duration of this test. He told Gob to wait until he had gone outside the door and locked it to start the test. Soturi had only waited a few seconds before a shock wave from the explosion the transporter had created forced the entire palace to shake on its foundation. Soturi returned into his workshop only to find a scorched floor around the smoldering pile of metal that used to be the transporter. The king looked over at the wall and found Gob embedded into it, right next to the three other holes in the wall that were basically his outlines.

"Do you need any help getting out this time?" Soturi asked.

"No, but it is a good thing you did not program pain into our software, otherwise we would not be helping you with this." Gob said as he pried himself out from the wall. Four years had passed since The Lich had left his mark on the city and on Soturi, and in those four years Soturi saw himself more and more as a failure. The sooner he could get to the next planet the better. The king listened to his creation talk as he sulked back to a half burned desk and sat down in front of it. This had been the sixth attempt at creating a transporter and Soturi was getting tired of everything exploding in his face. "Perhaps you crossed the wrong wires again, or it might have been a defective flux generator."

"Or perhaps I just suck at this. Maybe I should just forget about my brother and let him do whatever he wants on that world." The android's head spun until Gob faced Soturi with an annoyed look.

"You can't do that, you made a promise to the people and a good king keeps his promises, no matter what."

"The only problem with that is that I'm not a king. I am a prince who was forced to step up and take control. I'm just not ready."

"Yes you are Soturi; you just need to think about where you are in this universe and where everyone else is. There are connections that bind us together and help us whenever we need it." Soturi's face lit up when he listened to the android's words, it was something hidden between the lines that made ideas jumble around inside of his head.

"Wait, say that last part again."

"There are connections that bind us together and help us when we need it."

"How did I not realize this before?!" Soturi shot up and rushed over the holographic files he had created and soon he discovered how he could make this machine work. "The transporters work by surrounding the person with an energy that can phase that person through any solid object and protect them from the harshest of environments and then carries them to another transporter. The only reason my transporters aren't working is because there is no receiving transporter for the person, so the energy just builds up inside of the machine until the flux generator overcompensates and discharges all of that built up power in a big discharge of energy. It's so simple!" Gob stared at Soturi in confusion for several seconds, he was talking so fast that the four supercomputers could barely understand what he had said. Gob turned to face Soturi with a single sarcastic comment.

"If you say so, King Soturi."

"It doesn't matter now, get out. I have work to accomplish." Soturi commanded as he picked a chair up off the ground and started to sketch new blueprints.

"Would you like us to bring you anything?" Soturi quickly checked the time and grasped the fact that he had been inside of his workshop for over almost two days.

"Seeing as how I haven't eaten anything in thirty one hours, I would greatly appreciate some food." The android smiled at its creator before it left the workshop to get his breakfast.

The king wasted no time on his project, and the finished result appeared only five days later. Soturi was so confident that this time it would work that he tested the transporter out first. He had placed one transporter in his workshop and a second one on a barren hill close to the coliseum. The worried faces on the android did not dampen his spirits one bit. The king stepped up onto the metal platform and positioned his hands on the metal handles. In milliseconds, a red energy surrounded him and carried him halfway across the city in the blink of an eye. Soturi could just barely see the palace on the horizon. He immediately jumped off of the transporter and cheered, the king was getting ready to run back to the palace to tell everyone, anyone, the news. But he was so excited that he had forgotten how he arrived to that place. It only took him till he was about twelve feet away from the transporter to remember this, then as slowly walked back to the transporter, he couldn't help but smile.

The Rumen people were informed that their king would be leaving within a matter of days to hunt down The Lich, and when Soturi was ready, most of the city had come to wish him off. There were two thick lines of people leading Soturi straight to the second transporter. He carried on him a pack with one strap wrapped around his chest. Inside the pack was a collapsible marquee that would work as a dry place to sleep, and his personal Sion that would supply him with food, water, or anything else he might need on his journey. The king wore a black shirt with red sleeves, the red stopped at diagonal lines that went from the collar to just below the arm pits. The pants he was wearing had a similar design, the majority of it was black with the red lined from the outside of the knees to the inside of his ankles. Once he had reached the transporter, the king was greeted by his friend Orion and the four G's and both of them had something to aid Soturi on his journey. Orion presented to him a special kind of knife. It was in the shape of a flattened 'V' with one half of it thicker than the other, obviously the handle. Magic Man told him that it was an enchanted knife that Soturi could actually separate the knife in half to form two separate knives. One that would remain clipped to his waist while the other would be used as a tool or weapon, and he'll never run out of them.

"Thank you, Orion. I know this will come in handy."

"I also have something for you, Soturi. It is something you need to see before you depart. I've already sent the information to the Sion inside of your pack. It is for the king's eyes only." All four faces said at once, and the one that was facing Orion shot him a look that said 'peep at this and you'll lose your tongue and eyes'. He took the hint as he turned around when Soturi removed the Sion from his pack and pulled up the data. It was nothing but a holographic handwriting that Soturi could barely read, but when he could finally make out what the hologram said, he was at a complete loss for words.

"Wh-what is this?" Soturi asked as he looked back up the android in confusion and wonder. But his eyes were brought back down to the Sion because of a new blinking hologram that clearly said, 'We can discuss this when you are alone on the next planet'. Soturi nodded and put his Sion back in his pack.

"Very well, then." King Soturi then turned to all of the people surrounding the barren hillside, raised his fist toward the dome to address the people. The king made it very clear to everyone that he would either return with his brother's blood on his hands or he would not return at all. Soturi held a stern expression on the outside while on the inside he was still a prince that did not want to leave the comfort of his home.

Soturi turned to the transporter and slowly stepped onto it. He hesitated when he raised his palms to the metal handles. He had adjusted the machine to put him on the on the transporter outside what once was Teotihuacán. But when he placed his palms on the handles and activated the transporter, sparks exploded from the platform and blue energy surrounded Soturi and shot him out of the planet's atmosphere. The transporter had malfunctioned, yet it still worked to an extent. Because the distance was much greater, the energy was not strong enough to fully protect him from the coldness of space and completely phase him through objects. Soturi realized this when he collided with a small asteroid in a micro orbit, sending him off trajectory, towards the triangular land formation. The king did his best to maneuver his way to the part of the ground that looked the softest. Soturi was lucky enough to discover the calm waters of a lake in the middle of thick woodlands. The second the king hit the murky waters, he was knocked unconscious, and would have drowned if not for the three sets of calloused hands that had reached into the waters and carried him onto dry land and to safety.

Several hours later, Soturi awoke in a log cabin on a bed that was too small for him, next to a lit fireplace. His head was pounding. When Soturi's vision cleared, he looked around the cabin that was relatively small, designed only to provide the basic needs; a place to make food, a place to eat said food, a place to sleep for two people, and a place to get warm. The kitchen was nothing more than a steel stove with shelving above filled with silverware, plates, and enough glass bottles and jars to make the cabin look more like a moonshine distillery. Soturi finished looking around and then realized that there were people all around him. All of them were males and the majority of them wore a vest over a white long-sleeved shirt and cotton pants. There was one boy about fourteen years old, wearing a dirty white shirt and buckskin pants. Then there was the person Soturi thought was the most interesting of the bunch. He was an old man who was dressed in all black except for the white bar in his clerical collar. In his hands was an old leather book with a golden cross on it. The book was probably older than man the holding it. The old man was the first to approach Soturi. He was cautious with his words, even though Soturi could not understand a word of the English language.

"Is it correct that you have fallen from the heavens?"

"Wha…"Soturi had expected the natives to speak as the Mayans once did, and because the word 'what' translates into yesel in Ruman, every person in that house thought Soturi to be an angel.

The old man's face lit up as he closed his eyes, raised his head, and started talking to no one in particular. Everyone else in the house bowed their heads in response to this, except the boy. Soturi just lay there on the bed, staring at them. He thought it was somewhat strange. The king went to get out of the bed, but when he stood up he felt light headed and collapsed back onto the bed. Soturi realized what was troubling him a few seconds after he gripped his head in pain and he wasn't surprised. He'd rather have a concussion in his head than not have a head at all. The best thing to heal a concussion is plenty of rest and time. His new plan for now was to stay and recover in this cabin if that was alright with the owner. A hand had placed itself on Soturi's shoulder and he turned to see a man at his side. The man had a wide face that looked as if he had worked outside most of his life, and he looked to be only thirty years old. The bags under his eyes gave that away. His name was Thomas, and he had built the cabin his family was living in with his own hands. Soturi had no idea what Thomas said, but it sounded comforting. It didn't take long for Soturi's eyes to close after he slowly laid his head down on the bed.

King Soturi remained in the bed for three days and on each day he was in less pain then the one before. On the fourth day, he gained enough strength to lift himself out of the bear skin covered bed and looked over to the surprised faces of the man and his son who had just sat down for their dinner. The man immediately stood up from his chair and made Soturi his own plate of food. He set the plate in front of an empty chair and stepped back. Soturi gladly took the offer as he had not eaten in four days, not that they didn't give him any food, he just didn't have the strength in him to eat anything. Soturi wasn't exactly sure what he was eating but all of it tasted very good. The vegetables and white meat were fit for a king's feast, whether they knew he was serving one or not, so he made sure to savor every bite. While Soturi was eating, the man started to ask him questions.

"If you don't mind me asking, why are you here?"

Soturi stopped his last bit of meat at his mouth before saying, "If I can't understand you then you can't understand me. Perhaps I should just leave it at that." Again, both of them stared at Soturi in surprise.

"He must have hit his head on somethin' really hard when he fell from heaven, don'tchya' think Papa." The boy's sly remark only received an annoyed glare from his father, a look that he had seen very often.

"What I think son, is that he's here to find someone who needs the Lord's help in their life, but this guardian angel can only speak to the one person on this earth."

"Then why you reckon he's stayin' in that bed most of the time?"

"Perhaps you were right when you said this man hit his head something fierce and is just taking the time to recover, or perhaps one of us is the person he is here to help, but then of course we would understand him. But what would I know. I'm just a farmer. That's why if he is still here tomorrow, we will bring him to church where Pastor Murphy can try to speak with him. Maybe an educated man like him can make something of his tongue."

Thomas lived up to his word, because just after the sun rose he dragged his son and the 'angle' out of bed and guided them a mile and a half up a dirt road to a large wooden building that was coated with chipped white paint. An iron bell was hung atop a small steeple and echoed for miles, only to alert the people conversing around the church that their hour of worship would begin momentarily. The people headed inside and took a seat in one of the many pews. Soturi, Thomas and his son sat in the second pew. As smart as Soturi was, this place made him very confused. He realized that these people idolized a man who had been starved, beaten and nailed to two large beams of wood. He watched everyone sit in quiet for minutes, listening to the man in black that had visited Soturi when he first woke up in Thomas' cabin, then rise up several times to sing in almost harmony, and finally sit back down to hear the old man talk for over thirty minutes, where he gestured to Soturi several times. To be honest, Soturi found the entire thing to just be silly; but still less bloody than the Mayan's religion.

When the old man had reached his long speech, Soturi found himself in utter boredom. He figured now was the best time to discuss with the four G's about that message he received before he left Rumah. It was a good thing before he was hauled to this place; Soturi grabbed his bag from the bedside. However King Soturi forced himself to read the message once more before conversing with his creation.

The single motion of the hand from a dark prince that will set into motion, the war of suns. The prince who set that motion will be punished not once, but three times in death. Brought to him twice by a hero, one of the four sole survivors. This hero shall have met and been raised by a gold dog. Who will lead the Hero, the King, and the Solider to a flying mountain, where they will help decide the fate of two worlds.

Even after Soturi read it a second time, those words still sent strings of uneasiness into Soturi's heart. He immediately sent a quick message to Glob, only to receive a reply almost instantly.

What is this?

A prophecy forged by King Varotius shortly after the Rumans arrived on the red planet. Because of the visions and nightmares that haunted him.

Do you think Veli could be the dark prince?

What do you think creator?

I think that if my brother is the dark prince, then it seems pointless that I'm here on this planet to hunt and kill my brother if he's just going to somehow be raised from the dead.

But you made a promise to your people that you must keep.

But what if the people knew of this?

They will not know of this, not until they need to. King Varotius ordered that this prophecy be kept from the public to protect them.

That was an older generation, still frightened merely by the thought of those giant lizards. But the people today are much stronger than their ancestors that went through the mass exodus.

If you want everyone to know, then you may tell them. But you alone as their king will tell them. But it will have to wait until the death of your father is no longer remnant in their minds.

I'm glad I put all that time into programing you.

While Soturi's fingers were dashing over the holographic letters, Thomas' son gawked at the sight of the Sion. After a few minutes of just staring, the boy found the ability to nudge his father. He turned and dropped his jaw as well. It wasn't long before everyone in the church was watching Soturi and his magical stone tablet. When the king realized this, he looked up and felt a tad bit embarrassed. He looked around at all of staring faces, placed his Sion away and stood up, feeling that he had overstayed his welcome. Just after Soturi had stepped out of the pew, a hand had reached out and gently grabbed his shoulder. Soturi gazed over his shoulder and saw that the hand belonged to the old man. The warm smile on his face was somehow translating his words. If you must go, I understand. But I would wish for you to stay. What a story it would be preaching to a soul that has already been saved. The calming sound of the old man's voice pretty much forced King Soturi to smile and take his place back next to Thomas' son to listen the man's words.

Later, after the congregation of people had dispersed, Thomas had stayed behind to talk with as many people as he could. His son had decided to go back without him and to bring Soturi along with him. Now both were walking casually down the dirt road that led back to the cabin. On the way, a voice other than Thomas' son had filled Soturi's ears.

"King Soturi." It was his brother's voice, or the best imitation of it he had ever heard, emitting in a mocking tone. Soturi stopped immediately and yanked his head over to where he thought Veli's voice had come from. The problem was, it seemed to be originating from every direction and that became ever clearer as Veli's voice repeated his name over and over again. But when he jerked his head to look out at an open field, where saw a black cloud that he could have sworn was Veli. Behind it was an old stone well that the cloud proceeded to step into as a person would, if a normal person would do that. Soturi wasted no time and rushed over to the well, only to find it sealed off with a thick stone slab. Soturi was too motivated to catch his brother that his rational side had remained by the boy's side on the dirt road. The stone slab fit perfectly over the well and with a bit of brute force, it was pushed aside to reveal a seemingly endless hole. Without thought, Soturi jumped feet first down the well.

It took Thomas' son a full minute to realize that his traveling buddy had traveled elsewhere. He turned around just in time to see him disappear into the well. He might have been a little uneducated, but at least he wouldn't have done something so stupid. He ran to the stone well and saw nothing. Panic quickly spread through him; he had heard plenty of stories from his sister Sarah, of children who had fallen into wells and drowned after days alone. He knew she was just trying to scare him at the time, but as he ran back to the church for help the fear he was feeling was very real.

Several of the men who were still at the church ran back with the boy, letting him guide the way back to the well. Some of the men carried long rope coils to try and bring 'The Angel' back up to the surface. The reason they brought so much rope was that no one was sure of how deep the well was, it had been sealed off longer than anyone could remember and everyone agreed that it should remain shut for whatever reason it was closed. Thomas, being a carpenter as well as a farmer, fastened the roped together at their ends and tied a big knot at the end of the rope and tossed it down into the deep well. One man grabbed hold near the opposite end of the long rope and waited for it to stop falling. It only did that when the line became taut.

"Grab hold of the rope!" a tall man shouted down into the well, his voice echoing. Thomas and several of the men grasped the rope and tightened their grip, waiting for the weight of the angel to be added to it with a sudden sharp tug, but nothing happened. They waited for five more minutes and still the rope remained slack, then ten, and finally fifteen long minutes had rolled by until the men had given up, hoisted the rope back up, and began their way back to their homes. Thomas' son who had been watching, hoping that the angel would climb back out before he saw the end of the rope, begged and pleaded with everybody there, even his own father, to remain here and not to give up on him.

"Son, be reasonable. That was well over fifty feet of rope we threw down into that old well; no human could survive a drop like. If you have faith that he is still alive you may wait here until he either crawls or flies back up." His father had meant that to be a rhetorical order, but with a quick nod, the boy hurried back to the well. He placed his hands on the edges and looked down with his eyes that were still filled with hope.

The sun had moved behind a blanket of clouds and remained there for over three hours and the boy still waited by the well, only now he was sitting up against it, asleep. He was awoken by a the sound of a puff of air. He couldn't exactly make out what it was, but when a figure had appeared beside him, he realized it was the angel that was standing triumpant in the shade. He looked as if he had walked through hell, judging by the four long claw mark that cut into the back of his shirt and almost into his flesh. The rest of his clothes were slightly burned and ripped. He gazed up into the clouds and uttered his unknown language as he raised his right hand and then collapsed face down.

It took a few seconds for what had just happened to register in the boy's mind, but after it did he carefully walked up and tapped Soturi with his foot the same way one would with a dead animal. But unlike a dead animal, he mumbled some words, half awake. Thomas' son grabbed his head and lifted it. As far he could tell The Angle was alright, just unconscious.

I don't think my Pa will believe me in I run all the way back home and tell him this guy actually flew out of there. Then again if he believes in all that stuff in that old book then maybe he'll comeback with me. The boy argued with himself up until he gave up and dragged the unconscious angel back up to the dirt road, and by then he was exhausted, but stubbornly continued to drag him down the road. The Angel was lighter than anyone would have thought, at a glance anyways; but this fourteen year old boy was pulling him with little trouble. But this young boy had been helping out on the farm for almost all his life.

Twenty-three minutes. That's about how long it took the boy to carry Soturi all the way back to the small cabin his family called home. He called to his father the moment the cabin came into view, and Thomas poked his head out the door and his jaw dropped. He retreated back into the house to get some of the smelling salts that were kept in the kitchen cupboard and then rushed back out to his son. Thomas uncorked the bottle and held it under Soturi's nose for several seconds. The smell jarred Soturi back into consciousness and with help from Thomas and his son, back on his feet as well.

Carefully Soturi walked back into the cabin and sat on the same bed he had been in all week and raised his right hand up to his temple, trying to massage it. Thomas knelt beside him to make sure The Angel was still functioning. But before he could speak a single word, Soturi moved his right from his temple to Thomas'. The man could feel a tingling sensation start in his head then travel down his spine and to the ends of his nerves. He witnessed all of his memories, everything he had ever done, everyone he had ever met; flash before his eyes in a matter of seconds, and Soturi witnessed them as well. Thomas fell back in shock, not sure what had just happened. Soturi took a deep breath before speaking once again.

"I would send someone to seal off that well with something stronger than stone."

Both Thomas and his son gawked at Soturi. The last thing they expected was for him to speak English. The boy's was the first to reply, mainly because his father was still speechless. "W-why, what's down there?" Soturi did not answer at first, he merely stared back down at his right and admired what was on it; his own valta. Soturi had discovered The King's Labyrinth and he himself could hardly believe it.

"Trust me, some things are only for the ears of those who can survive down in that place."

Now that they shared a common tongue, Soturi could tell Thomas and his son who he was and the reason why he was here. He told them of his family, his city and its laws, and what his brother had done, sacrificing himself then going on homicidal rampage years later and almost killed him. Most of it flew right over their heads, while other facts still had trouble registering.

"So you are from the next planet over." Thomas repeated slowly. "And not only that, but you are a prince on that planet."

"No, I was a prince, until my brother killed my father and left me with Rumah and this." Soturi said, gesturing to the scar on his face. "And for my people, I have promised to them that I would not return until my brother has paid for his actions. He must die and I just need to find the courage to do it."

"If you can pull yourself out of some old well, you can find anyone and kill 'em.
"I don't think it's that simple, son."

"Your father is right…" Soturi stopped when he tried to think of the boy's name. He had never heard anyone say it. "I'm sorry, what was your name?" The boy planted a smile on his face before he reached out his arm for Soturi to shake and called out his name.

"Abraham, Abraham Lincoln."

The King had witnessed several people do this back at the old wooden building and shook Abraham's hand.

Soturi had decided that he would remain here in this cabin for one more day. So that he could fully recover from his journey down into The King's Labyrinth. And in that time, he had listened to many stories that Thomas and Abraham shared. From the time Thomas had accidentally tied himself to a mule and it dragged him across his family farm when he was much younger. To Abraham's step-mother and all his siblings that were back in her hometown visiting with her parents. That made eight people who lived in this tiny little cabin. Abraham adored his step-mother. Even though she cannot read herself, she wishes for all her children to receive a proper education. She makes them walk two miles through the woods to the nearest schoolhouse whenever they are not needed on the farm. She puts most of her hope in Abraham, even though he has fallen behind on his studies in her absence. Honestly, Abraham could care less about education. He thinks that the life he is living now is the only one worth living. He'll grow up and follow in his forefather's footsteps. He would farm until he couldn't anymore and leave his future sons to farm. Abraham had told Soturi most all of this and more as he guided him to the east side of Pigeon Creek, the small town on the tip of Indiana.

"It sounds like she cares deeply for you."

"Yeah but I don't even see why I got to learn how to read and write. When am I ever going to need that?"

"Well, perhaps your parents want you to become something more than a farmer. Perhaps they want you to rise above it and become something better. They want you to be someone that everyone knows. What I'm trying to say is, whatever you are going to be, be a good one." Abraham walked in silence beside the king, taking in those words as they echoed throughout his head. That had never occurred to him and he might have gone through his entire life with that same attitude. He looked up at this mysterious person and realized he must be a lot smarter than he looked. Especially now with him wearing the clothes that his father was more than happy to give to Soturi.

The rest of the walk to the edge of town was spent in enjoyable silence and when they reached it, Abraham said goodbye in the only way he thought was appropriate. "Farewell, my new friend." And with that, Soturi waved and began his search.

Forty years later and many miles away, Soturi was trudging down a well-traveled dirt road. He had journeyed all across the land mass the natives call North America, mainly in the regions that people did not inhabit; aside from the tribes of natives that reminded him of the Maytecs, living in harmony with the land. Many times they had mistaken him for a 'white man' and apparently these certain native held a grudge against the white men and had almost killed him multiple times, but Soturi could never discover what the resentment was about. Regardless, the king was happy to get back to civilization. He approached a small town in the middle of an open field at the top of a hill. The closer Soturi got to this town, the more he realized that the buildings within the town lay in ruins, the land surrounding the town was scarred. The ground was nothing but burnt topsoil that was packed so tightly, digging a single grave would be nearly impossible. Making the graves of over three thousand one hundred and fifty five soldiers that would be buried here today that much harder to dig.

Soturi glanced over at the enormous crowd of people on the outskirts of this town, and decided he would venture over and find out what was going on. For curiosity's sake. At the edge of the crowd, King Soturi could plainly see a stage at the opposite end of this sea of heads and as he pushed past men, women, and the occasional child, he could also see a tall man in a dark suit and top hat giving a speech. The closer he got to the stage, the more words he could understand.

"But, in a larger sense, we can not dedicate, we can not consecrate, we can not hallow, this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced." Now Soturi was close enough to make out the appearance of the speaker. He was a tall man, almost as tall as Soturi and by the way he carried himself and with the way he spoke, Soturi got the impression that this was a man who was not afraid to make mistakes, a man who worked tirelessly to find solutions to difficult problems, a man that would always continue to learn and grow, despite his current age. "It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us, that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion, that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain, that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom…"

At that moment, the speaker caught a glimpse of Soturi and his eyes widened slightly and his jaw had hung open for a brief instant. The man remembered what he was doing and immediately returned to addressing the people. "…and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth."

The tall man smiled and took a bow, telling everyone that the speech had come to an end. All around Soturi, an eruption of applause filled the air. Soturi was about to ask the women next to him what all of this was about when he noticed the crowd of people began to make way for the speaker, he was walking straight for Soturi and he stopped within arm's reach. "Well I'll be damned, it truly is you isn't it?" The king felt as if he should know this person but nothing came to mind.

"I'm sorry but I have no idea of who you are."

"How can he not know who President Lincoln is?" one spectator whispered. He had no idea what a president was, but Lincoln registered immediately, and he remembers the young lad whose father had welcomed him into his home. That boy was as mischievous and immature as a young boy could get and what stood before Soturi now was nothing short of a complete surprise.

"It is wonderful to see you once again my friend, and if you wouldn't mind, it would be an honor to speak with you again."

"I don't see why not, it will give me a chance to relax. But would you mind telling me what all of this is about?" A solemn look fell upon the president's face, as a sigh escaped his mouth.

"Five months ago, a very bloody battle took place in this town of Gettysburg. But after three days of torture the soldiers of the Union stood their ground and halted the Confederate's second invasion of the north. But that victory came at a great price." Abraham led Soturi up near the stage and gestured out behind it. There rested row after row of coffins. "Almost half of the graves have already been dug and it's still a long ways until this new national cemetery is complete. These men gave the ultimate sacrifice for the protection of their country, for their home."

"Such a waste." He muttered loud enough only for his friend to hear.

"Waste! Not at all, Soturi. If anything this is the turning point of our war. Soon America will be united as it was once before. God help us if this civil war consumes all of…" President Lincoln was interrupted by a sudden coughing fit, it sounded like it hurt. Soturi asked if he was alright and to which he replied. "No I'm just dandy, all I need is a glass of water. There's plenty of it on the train, would you be so kind as to accompany me to it? There are some answers I have been dying find out."

"Of course, I know I have a few more questions myself, but what in the world is a train?"

Soturi's question was answered when he was brought to the worm-like mode of transportation. Twelve boxes on iron wheels sat connected next to a building that was almost as long as the train itself, and of all of the box cars on the train, the two strolled into the one at the far back, the caboose as Abraham called it. Inside the caboose was extravagant carpeting under lavish furnishings. Sitting in one of the cushioned chairs was a man like Soturi had never seen before. He had thick lips, big hands, and short fuzzy black hair that was the exact same shade as his skin, and he wore a suit similar to what Abraham was wearing.

"David, would you please fetch me some water." Immediately the black man shot up and did as he was told, and handed Abraham a glass before he took his own seat. "Soturi, this is David. He once belonged to a cotton farmer in northern Virginia, and now he makes good money as my personal butler."

"What do you mean belonged? A person could only own property and items."

"Yes, yes, but for almost two hundred years people in this country were permitted to own men and women like David here, and treated them as poorly as farm equipment. And I am exhilarated to say that sentence in the past tense. Because in the United States of America it is now illegal to own another human being, I've made sure of that."

"Earlier you also said that the battle of, Gettysburg, is the turning point of your war. Why is there a war to begin with?"

"Three years ago, when I was elected president, I gave my inaugural speech, in that speech I spoke off abolishing slavery for good and not two days later seven states down south seceded from the Union, a week later eight more states did the same. You see, the North is industrialized with factories and such, while the South is agricultural. They require a large work force to help bring in the harvest every year. For that reason, Southerners will not give up their free work force without a fight, and so the war began when farmers gathered cannons and rifles and fired at Fort Sumter. Thus the south, or rather the Confederate States of America, declared war on the north. Truth be told, the entire country was a powder keg waiting for a single spark to ignite it. But if by some chance you meant why am I in this war, because before I gave my inaugural speech, I took an oath to protect and preserve the constitution of this nation and if the Union falls…" Another coughing fit filled the air and it died just as soon as it started. The president took one more swig of his glass before finishing his sentence. "… then so does that constitution."

Abraham continued to describe the details of the Civil War and Soturi sat and listened, amazed by what he was hearing. Then their conversation shifted from the war to the life Abraham had made.

From the moment Soturi had left Pigeon Creek, Abraham threw himself into his studies. He had taken Soturi's words 'whatever you are going to be, be a good one' by heart. The man had practically lived by those words. When he was seventeen, he went to work with a ferryboat business on the Ohio River, earning six dollars a month. Five years later he was given the offer to run a store in New Salem, there he continued his education and found and interest in law and often attended court. After ten years of practicing law his friend James Rutledge encouraged him to run for the state legislator, he won, and was re-elected for a second term. While he had his free time he continued in his studies to become an official self-taught lawyer, and that happened on the first day of March in 1837.

After two years of his life spent with the traveling firm that he and his friend Joshua Speed had founded, Abraham had met a young woman by the name of Mary Todd. The both of them had much in common and found love several days after their first meeting at her sister's party. Ten months after they were married, their first son Robert was born. Mary realized that Abraham was destined for greatness and without her, his political career might have ended after his four term in the state legislator. However Mary encouraged him to run for Congress, and he loved the idea. After he had won the seat in Congress, Abraham was forced to leave his family and travel to Washington D. C. While he was away, he wrote letters to his wife and told her how much he missed her every day, but he still worked tirelessly as a congressmen.

Abraham hadn't done the best job in Congress, so after his two year term ended, he took a break from politics and returned home to help care for his second son, Eddie, who had contracted a case of tuberculosis. He was only four years old when he died. The Lincoln's worked through their grief and it slowly vanished after their next two sons were born. William, who was a thoughtful boy and had a strong bond with his father, but sadly he had passed away as a result of Typhoid Fever. And Thomas, their third and final son, was named after Abraham's father who had died not three years before. Yet he was rarely called Thomas, instead people used his nickname, Tadpole or Tad for short. Tad was outgoing, bright, and quick to play pranks on his brother and parents.

"Almost every night, before I tucked them into bed, I told them stories. One story in particular they would always beg me to tell them; The Tale of the Falling King. They loved that story because unlike the rest of my stories, that one does not have an ending. It leaves them hanging wanting to know what will happen next. Did that story ever end?" It took a few seconds but Soturi finally realized that the story was about him. Slowly, his mouth shut and his head shook from side to side. "Oh well, I suppose I'll never know."

The conversation died down and both of them had time to relax, he leaned back on the plush couch and loosened his joints. He had not rested on anything this comfortable since he was awoken from his bed the day he left Rumah. His eyelids became heavier and heavier. That was when he became aware that the train was vibrating, a clear sign that it was now on the move. Abraham noticed this about the same time that Soturi did. "It appears Hannibal is in a hurry to return home." Those were the last words Soturi heard before he drifted into a very deep sleep. By the time he had woken, night had fallen and the king had been rearranged on the couch, he was lying as he would on a bed. Abraham must have done it while he was out.

Soturi rose from the couch to get himself some water, his joints were almost as stiff as the steel that formed this train. He wondered how long he had been on that couch. With his water in hand, Soturi walked through three cars before he found Abraham sitting at a desk writing letters to some of his generals. He continued to write his letters even as he spoke with Soturi. According to the president, he had been asleep for almost the entire trip back to Washington. Honestly it didn't surprise him; that was a very comfortable couch.

"Where are we going anyway?"

"We're on our way back to my home in Washington D. C. It would have been rather rude to wake a king while he slept, so I just let you be. We'll be arriving at the train station within the hour. I hope you don't mind."

"No, no it's fine, this will give me the chance to meet the family you've been speaking so fondly of." A smile crept onto Abraham's face. He could hardly wait to get home, to relish the time with his new guest. The King and the President.

Abraham was correct about the train arriving at their destination within the hour, and from the station a horse drawn carriage carried them down a cobbled road that eventually led them to a grand building. It stood two stories tall, proud and as white as snow. Four lofty columns supported the entranceway where Mary was waiting for him.

"Is something wrong dear?"

"No, God no. I just wished to see my husband the second he returned home." Mary kept her lithe smile as she shot a glance at Soturi. "And it appears you have brought a guest, might I ask your name?"

"Soturi."

"That's a rather odd name wouldn't you say?" Mary asked as she turned her head to Abraham, he in turn whispered in her ear who Soturi really was. Mary's eyes widened and she asked for forgiveness from his majesty.

"There is no need for apologies. I realize what I find normal, other people don't. My father gave me my name because he knew that I was a fighter and a survivor the day I was born."

"How so?"

"Because I continued to fight for my life after my mother had lost her's." The First Lady sulked; she realized that it was best if she just stopped asking questions all together. She welcomed the two inside and offered them some early breakfast. Soturi gladly took the offer while Abraham continued walking past the foyer and up a set of black oak steps. He intended to see his sons before he did anything else.

The only stop he made on the second floor was at the far end of the hall, Tad's bedroom, passing Robert's completely. There was no use of going in there anyway, The President knew his oldest son was somewhere in Tennessee as an officer under the control General Ulysses S. Grant. Abraham opened the door to Tad's room as quietly as possible and expected to find him asleep, but instead found this boy wide awake and playing with his wooden toys on the floor.

"What are you doing up, the sun hasn't even risen yet." Abraham said in a playful voice. Tad turned around immediately at the surprise of his father. He scooped the boy in his arms before he could utter a single word. "Don't say anything too loudly, your mother thinks you are still asleep, and I have a surprise for you."

"You do?"

"Yes, but you do remember you favorite bedtime story?"

"How could I forget Papa, the one with the king and his brother?"

"Good, now I want you to keep that in mind as we head downstairs into the kitchen. You're not going to believe what I've found."

Everyone in the White House adored King Soturi's company, so much so that the Lincoln family all agreed that he could stay with them as long as he wished. Of course he was everything but a burden, he helped Mary with her studies in foreign languages, the servants in and around the house, played with Tad on occasion, and often assisted Abraham by giving his opinion when it was needed and in writing some of his speeches. Something that the president was grateful for mostly because he was good at giving them, but not so good at writing them. It took him almost a month to compose the speech he gave at Gettysburg and that was a rather short one.

Soturi stayed with the family for almost two years, and in those years both Soturi saw Abraham do many things: conjure a plan to rebuild this nation when the Union victory finally arrived, a proclamation of amnesty for the confederate rebels would be in effect if they took an oath to faithfully support, protect, and defend the Constitution and the Union and restore the rights of property, except for slaves. Then there was Abraham's second inauguration. It was a heated race because the president's popularity had suffered from the dragging on of this bloody war, but regardless he won the election and promised in his inaugural speech that he would end this Civil War once and for all. In February and in March, both men watched more than seven hundred thousand new Union soldiers march past the White House. Every single one of them longed for this war to end and they gleefully answered the call for more recruits their Commander-in-Chief had given. After countless nights of Mary claiming to see the ghosts of her dead sons, she held numerous séances within their home in attempt to contact them. Abraham attended them in fear of his wife's mental health, she had been grieving on the weight of Eddie's and William's deaths and the chance that someone would kill her husband according to all of the spiteful letters Abraham received daily.

But good news traveled with letters as well, more and more victories in the south were claimed for the Union. From General Sherman's triumphs in Georgia, to the fall of the Confederate capital in Richmond, Virginia. Speculation had spread that Petersburg had fallen and Richmond was next. The battle would be better classified as a skirmish. Once General Grant's troops were in view of the city, the citizens fled in hordes, President Jefferson Davis escaped on a train heading south, and the remainder confederate soldiers that had not retreated yet set fire to the buildings and bridges to slow the Yankees. The date of this glorious triumph was April 1, 1865, the length of the battle lasted roughly thirteen hours. It was one of Abraham's officer's idea that while Abraham attempted to talk of peace on the steamboat named River Queen with other several high ranking Union officers in the Chesapeake Bay, to visit the ruined city to see what war could result in. Abraham thought it was a splendid idea. This would surely boost the morale of his troops and his nation. It was a tad past midnight when the Captain changed his course to the mouth of the James River.

"The Captain says that it'll be quite some time before we reach the Richmond river port, what shall we do until then?"

"I don't know about you, Soturi, but I plan to rest my eyes before we reach the city. I would suggest you do the same." Soturi nodded at the President and stepped out of his quarters. Minutes later, Abraham had changed into his night gown and climbed into his bed. Once he fell asleep, he began to dream.

The dream started with him being awoken from his bed back in the White House by a child's crying. He recognized the crying as one of his own son's. He lifted himself out of the bed, donned a robe and stepped out into the hall. Abraham continued to hear the child's wailing but he could see no one, even though it sounded as if the child was right in front of him. The president tried to open the doors to his children's rooms, but found them locked. Yet these doors have no locks or key holes. Abraham guessed the crying was coming from downstairs and that is where he headed next. While walking down the stairs, he saw a Union soldier guarding a coffin covered in a black felt and decorated in bright diamonds. At the head of the coffin was the crying child, and Abraham was correct when he thought it was one of his boys crying, but it was Little Eddie who had died fifteen years ago. Abraham walked cautiously up to the Union soldier and asked him a simple question.

"Who, is dead in the White House?"

The Union soldier spoke in a voice that was as cold as his stare, the darkest eyes one would ever see, burning a hole in the president's skull. "The president. He was killed, by an assassin." No emotion in his words, he was neither mourning nor joyful. As Abraham slowly stepped forward, the wood beneath his feet moaned. Resting on the pads of the coffin was Abraham's own dead body. Fear spread throughout all of Abraham. The skin on the cadaver was pale and sunken. The man brought his hand up and rested it on the chest to feel for some kind of heartbeat or the rising of lungs. Nothing! Suddenly, the eyes on the dead body of Abraham shot open and the dream ended.

Abraham woke up from his dream and laid there in his bed for several minutes, brooding over the nightmare he had just been a part of. The bell of the steamboat clanged loudly making the president jump. He rose from the bed and stepped out onto the balcony. The boat had reached City Point, Virginia, the headquarters of the Union army. Beyond that, the horizon glowed orange with the fires of the still burning ruins of Richmond. In a few short hours they would arrive there and the war would be that much closer to its end.

By noon the following day, a row boat had carried Soturi, Abraham, several Navy officers, and Tad, who was dressed as a miniature soldier, to Rockett's Landing, where newly freed slaves and Union soldiers were hard at work repairing a bridge. The slaves' heads turned and jaws dropped as the man who was responsible for their freedom walked by, holding his son's hand. Most of them dropped their tools and walked up the trail behind the president's party

"Form up!" the commanding Navy officer ordered, and the Naval men raised their rifles, fixed bayonets, and formed two protective lines beside President Lincoln. Abraham being the second tallest there, turned back to the slaves and asked if anyone knew the way to General Weitzel's headquarters. One slave timidly raised his hand.

"Yes sir, Master Lincoln, I know the way."

Onward they marched into the city, past burnt skeletons of brick buildings that breathed dark smoke like dragons. Several times they were forced to stop because of the threat of Confederate soldiers that might have stayed behind to take revenge for their fallen city, but despite this Abraham insisted they keep going. Other slaves had crept out of the scorched wood work to see their savior, but only one had the will to approach the president, an old man who was held up by nothing but the wooden staff in his hand. He knelt before Abraham as if was as god and he was a lowly peasant.

"May the good Lord bless, and keep you safe, Master Lincoln." Abraham removed his stovepipe hat and handed it to his son before kneeling next to the old man and whispered into his ear.

"You are a free citizen of this republic. Kneel to God only, and thank him, for the liberty that is yours." Abraham helped the old man up, back on his feet, shook his hand and continued walking. Soturi turned back after they had passed and saw the man still standing there, hands trembling with his mouth muttering incoherent words and eyes pointed to the sky. Soturi leaned over to his friend.

"In my opinion, you would make a better king than I would."

"Do not sell yourself short my friend, you make a fine monarch, aside from the fact you are far from your kingdom."

Soon after that, they arrived at the White House of the Confederate President. It was a beautiful building that was hardly touched by the fire. Marble walls shown with a luster that gave the entire place a homey feeling. His friend and personal bodyguard, Ward Hill Lamon, had informed him that General Weitzel was heading toward their position and he introduced Abraham to the housekeeper, Mrs. Omelia. She looked terrified to be in the presence of the Union President and all his men.

"Ma'am, might you direct me to President Davis' desk?" Abraham asked politely. His voice caused some of her anxiety to disappear, but not all of it. She nodded slowly and walked down the hall to a room with red felt wall paper with dark wood furniture. Abraham looked around the room and stared at a curved chair behind a desk. "So this, must have been President Davis' chair." He removed his hat again and moved to sit in the chair, leading his son with him. "This is whence," he reached for Tad as he spoke and lifted him to his knee "Mr. Jefferson Davis has conducted his war. How is this for a birthday, Tad?" His father looked down and his son smiled back.

They would continue to tour the ruined city for three more days until Soturi, Abraham and Tad returned to Washington. Not two days after their arrival, they had learned the greatest of news. Commanding General of all Confederate armed forces, Robert E. Lee, had surrendered to General Grant at the courthouse of the small village of Appomattox, Virginia. The entire city threw itself into celebration, candles burned in every window, fireworks exploded one after another, lighting the night sky, and the people took to the streets. A crowd had gathered around the White House to serenade Lincoln and demanded he give a speech. He promised them a speech he and Soturi would write together and then requested that the bands play the Confederate anthem, Dixie. In his speech the following night, he spoke of a generous and compassionate policy toward the south, and introduces the idea for suffrage. The crowd was shocked at these words, some livid.

Eventually the celebrations died down and everyone returned to their homes and when the mourning came to the White House, the first family discovered that their eldest son Robert had returned from witnessing the surrender at Appomattox and he was more than happy to share the experience with his family and Soturi.

"General Lee sits at the table stately, elegant. His uniform, spotless, with a jeweled sword at his waist and shining spurs on his boots. General Grant might as well have been the exact opposite, so shabby in a muddy blue uniform borrowed from a private. It was great." Smiles fell upon every face at the breakfast table. "Oh! And here is Lee." Robert said slowly as he rose from his seat, removed a photo from his jacket pocket, and handed it to his father. He stared at the picture of the man with a pointed beard that was the same shade of white as his combed hair.

"Now that is the face of a noble and brave man." The picture made Abraham think of what was next for him and his family. He thought first of Robert and his efforts to follow in his father's footsteps and become a lawyer before the war. He set the photo next to his plate and looked up at Robert. "Listen to me, my son. You must lay aside your uniform, return to college, read law for three years and at the end of that time, I hope that we will be able to tell whether you will make a lawyer or not."

"Yes sir, and I will, sir."

After breakfast had ended, the president left to attend a cabinet meeting he had called to order. Soturi, Mary, and Robert enjoyed each other in conversation. Where Soturi was invited by Mary, to accompany them to the play 'Our American Cousin' at Ford's Theater tonight, seeing as General Grant and his wife had declined the offer to return home to their children in New Jersey. He gladly accepted.

They had left for the theatre and arrived there at roughly 8:30, they were only a few minutes late for the play. But the moment the three of them stepped foot inside, the actors on stage smiled and waved to the President, the audience turned and cheered and applauded. Only when the orchestra started to play 'Hail to the Chief' in his honor, did he stop to remove his hat and take a bow. When the President and his party reached their box, they were greeted by the last minute replacements for General Grant and his wife, Mary's dear friend Clara Harris and her fiancé Major Henry Rathbone. The outside of their box was decorated by American flags and a single framed portrait of George Washington. The play only started up again when Mr. Lincoln took his seat in the rocking chair that had been placed there especially for him. The play was a three act comedy whose plot was based on the introduction of an awkward, ill-mannered, but honest American, Asa Trenchard, to his aristocratic English relatives when he goes to England to claim the family estate. Everyone, including Soturi, enjoyed it and laughed all throughout the show.

Shortly after the third act had begun, 10:15 to be exact, a skinny man with curly black hair, a short trimmed handlebar moustache, and a look of steely determination, gave his identification to the guard on the first floor. As an actor at the theatre the guard allowed him to pass.

Slowly, he paced up the carpeted stairs leading up to the viewing boxes. He grabbed a plank of wood from a pile in the hall and jammed it between to door and the hall, making it impossible for anyone on the other side to enter. He placed his ear to the each door as he passed, hoping to hear the one thing he needed to hear, and he did. The faintest of whispers hidden behind the laughter of the audience. He removed a seven inch dagger, a derringer pistol and cocked it.

The man heard the President say as squeezed his wife's hand tighter, "She won't think anything about it."

John Wilkes Booth carefully opened the door, making sure not to let the hinges squeak, and entered the presidential box. The sound of the play was drowned out by the hammering of his heart in his ears, and why wouldn't it be. His plan to decapitate the American government was in full effect. At this very moment his co-conspirators George Atzerodt had gone to kill Vice President Andrew Johnson and Lewis 'Paine' Powell was off to slay Secretary of State William Seward.

Booth raised the single shot pistol and pointed the stubby barrel at the base of Abraham Lincoln's head, he only needed one shot. Once he pulled the trigger, there would be no going back. A man, who had given his life and love to the stage and the south, would forever be branded as a two-dimensional scoundrel. He did not care.

The assassin pulled the trigger, the musket ball exploded in a puff of grey smoke and penetrated behind his ear and sent skull fragments into his brain. Like a war cry, Booth screamed the words of a dead language for a dead enemy. "Sic Semper Tyrannis!" Latin words for 'thus always to tyrants'.

With her husband slumped against the wall, Mary screamed. In an instant, Major Rathbone charged from his seat but was met with Booth's dagger planted deep in his shoulder. Soturi stood up in shock and Booth swiftly turned to face the king with his dagger, an inch from his chest. Fury boiled deep inside of him as the assassin turned, placed his boot on the ledge of the box and went to jump. Soturi felt completely helpless, his friend's murderer had just stared him in the eyes and he was just running away. He had to do something, and immediately the flag gave him an idea. He used the magic he had scarcely used since arriving on this planet and as Booth jumped, he forced the American flag to grab the closest spur on his boot. It caused him to stumble and fall to the stage ten feet below and fracture the Fibula bone in his right leg, but with the adrenaline running through his veins he could hardly feel it.

"Stop that man!" Miss Harris screamed as she leaned out the box and pointed at Booth. Soturi leaned out as well and cried bloody murder. John stared out into the audience in the middle of the stage for the last time, raised the blood soaked dagger and cried the same words before running off stage.

"Sic Semper Tyrannis!"

The audience had no idea what had just happened. The only sound in the theatre was the sound of Mary's sobbing. When one man asked what was happening, Miss Harris said solemnly.

"The president! He's shot!"

Panic stirred through every soul. Two of the closest Union officers in the audience hurried onto the stage and climbed up into the Presidential box, other officers made their way up the long way up. Soturi went to open the door for them and removed the wooden plank just as the first man was turning the door knob. Rushing through the door first was the U.S. Army surgeon, Dr. Leale. He assessed Major Rathbone in three seconds as he was bloody but standing, the surgeon told him he was in no immediate danger and moved on to the president. Dr. Leale turned to Mary, explained who he was and what he was going to do, but the only word she understood was doctor.

"Doctor, Doctor, is he dead?" She cried with the tears clouding her vision.

Soturi stood in the background, watching this dramatic scene unfold before him, the king still felt helpless. He knew nothing of the medical fields, or how to treat a gunshot wound. He was desperate to do anything to help, so when the doctor ordered someone for water and brandy, he ran to find some of it even though he had no idea what brandy was.

He tore out of the room and downstairs into the turmoil of the people concerned for their president. Soturi called out what he needed. He continued to do so until a crystal flask of amber liquid was placed in his hands by one gentleman. He assumed it was brandy and rushed back to the presidential box.

The first thing Soturi heard was the still sobbing Mary, who was finding comfort in Gloria Harris' arms. He gave the brandy to Dr. Leale and watched him go to work. He wet the tips with the drink and grazed them over Abraham's tongue. Slowly, the president's reflexes were awakened and he swallowed the brandy. The only sign, that Abraham Lincoln was still alive at least for now.

The doctor needed a better place to operate if the president was going to live. He ordered everyone who was able to lift the man up and carefully carry him out of the theatre and across the street to the nearest house. Leading them out was one union officer that had drawn his sword to ward off the crowd. One man offered the idea to take him back to the White House, but he would surely die on the way. Another man thought to bring him into the Star Saloon next door, however the owner of the saloon who had come out to see the commotion, refused to let the history books say the President of the United States had died in a saloon, not even his own. Still the doctor pushed to take Abraham to the home until he realized that that was no longer an option. Improvising, the men found a boarding house directly across from the theatre. Only a chosen few were allowed into the boarding home, including several witnesses and Mary, who had grown quite pale and strands of her black hair had fallen. She was already showing the signs of a grieving widow.

The owner of the boarding house was more than willing to let them all in. But due to his height, they were forced to lay Abraham diagonally on the bed of an absent boarder. The doors to the room were closed by the doctor with his assistants, he went to work.

Shortly after midnight, eyewitness testimonies began to come forth. However the appointed stenographer could not write fast enough, so it was asked if anyone surrounding the boarding house knew the practice of shorthanded writing, and as it turned out there was. A veteran of the second battle of Bull Run, James Tanner, had lost both of his legs, and had turned the age of twenty one little more than a week ago and was about to record the first eyewitness accounts. More than fifteen hundred people have claimed to see the assassination on the president, yet no two accounts matched. The closest to the truth was Soturi's testimony, who had been torn from Lincoln's side to give it. He been holding Abraham's hand during his entire operation, for no other reason to show Abraham that in all of this chaos, that he was still in touch with humanity and that he has friends that will be beside him until the end.

Soturi said, "My name, is uh, William S-stone, I-I was sitting next to the president when the man snuck in and shot Mr. Lincoln. Then he screamed words that mean nothing to me. The words were, as best as I can remember, sick semper tyrannous. Major Rathbone tried to attack him after he had shot the President, and the man stabbed him in the shoulder. Then I stood up, out of fear, he pointed the knife straight at me, our eyes locked for several seconds and, then he turned and jumped off the ledge where he, slipped and fell onto the stage. He rushed to the center of the stage, screamed the same words and then, ran off."

Soturi brought his shaking hand to a glass of water and took a sip. He thought himself pathetic. If Soturi could not even face down Abraham's killer, how would he ever bring himself to kill his own brother? Soturi brought up his second hand up to stop the first from shaking so much. Soturi gravely realized that this debacle might end any moment, at which point he would have to return to his pursuit of the Lich King. Soturi asked Secretary of War Stanton to find him a horse with a saddle. He said he would do what he could. When the glass was set back on the table, a gasp that was loud and clear came from the dying man in the room at the end of the hall. The king got up in an instant and returned to the president's side.

He remained there until 4:30 a.m., until the fact that there was no chance of saving Abraham's life. His pulse could barely be felt. It was decided that Mary would be allowed into the room to say her final goodbyes. She knelt by her husband's head and spoke in soft whispers, because all of the crying she done that night had made her voice hoarse.

Mary stroked his dark hair and kissed him softly. She knew the only reason these men had let her in was for the reason that this would be her last opportunity to see Abraham.

"Oh, my love, live but one more moment to speak to me once, please. To speak to our children, you'd speak to little Tad, wouldn't you. You love him so." Abraham was somewhat aware that the woman he loved was beside him and he responded in the only way he could; a deep gasp that made his chest rise.

Mary Todd Lincoln screamed and fainted.

"Would someone please remove her from the room?" The Secretary of War Edwin Stanton said as he removed his wire glasses.

For three more hours, the few people in this room stood awaiting his death. And twenty-two minutes after seven in the morning, Abraham Lincoln drew his last breath and fifteen seconds later his heart stopped.

One of the surgeons said solemnly, "He is gone." For several minutes everyone remained motionless and silent. Everyone but Soturi. He placed his right hand on the top of Abraham's head and said four words before joining the rest in respectful silence.

"Farewell, my old friend." Because most of the people in the room were focused on the President, few people saw the small flash of light come from the gem on Soturi's valta and those who saw thought nothing of it.

"He belongs to the Angels now."

More minutes passed and some of the men had left. They could not bear to see his body anymore. One man, before leaving, placed silver coins over both of Abraham's eye. Just as the Romans did to their honored dead. The eagles on the coins stood proud with their chests puffed, wings folded and ready to fly, and their heads held high. Then that same man brought a white sheet to cover the body.

When Soturi walked out, he had found Abraham's family mourning together. Robert held Tad and his mother with comfort, it was easy to see that Robert was trying his hardest to fight back the tears. Soturi came to them, and as he gave them his condolences, Secretary of War Stanton had alerted him that the horse he had requested was out front and waiting for him.

"Horse?"

"Yes, Mary, I thank you for allowing me to stay with you all this time, but I have stayed here long enough. It's, time I moved on, and start searching south."

"You can't leave! I need the help of a friend to get through this."

Soturi placed a hand on the widow's shoulder and spoke tenderly. "Mary, listen to me. You have your children, your family, friends of the family, and the entire nation to mourn with you. And it will be easier than you think, because Abraham still lives, inside your hearts and minds; never let him die."

"But, why do you have to go?" Tad asked, his face flushed.

"Because I have to find an end to that story your father told you at night." His next words were directed at both Tad and Robert. "Now I want both of you to live strong and listen to what your father has told you." He gave the family a gratifying smile, and three were given back to him.

Outside, King Soturi was met by Secretary Stanton, who aided him onto mounting the horse. "A manhunt is underway as we speak to find the assassin, and I know you were close to Abraham, so I am asking if you would like to join the hunt."

"As much as I would love to, I have another murderer to find." Soturi said, kicking the steed in its side making it go forward. As the gelding gained speed, Soturi rode off into the sunrise.

Has anyone else thought of how or even why the sixteenth president of the United States was the King of Mars on the show, or did all of you just pass that off as another one of the many 'okay, well that just happened' moments of Adventure Time. But as you might have figured out, this is not the last we see of Mister Lincoln. Tell me what you think, I'd love to hear it.