Chapter 5: King
King Aeon sat atop a large boulder, his antenna brushing the low ceiling of the royal audience chamber. Vast, flat, and with a ceiling too low for gnawers, killers, or fliers to fight comfortably, this was the center of his sprawling domain. But it was not truly his. He spoke for the multitude, but his sacred duty was to know the multitude, to divine what was best for all. Eldest of all thinking species of the Underland, crawler dominance stretched back to time immemorial. Masters of time, they who endure, who persist, the crawlers would quietly watch all the ages of the world. As their King, Aeon ever listened, taking in the thoughts, needs, and requests of his myriads. When he spoke in the fullness of power, it must be the will of all.
He listened, clicking his mandibles for echolocation, as the delegation arrived. The Diplomat, the Ironheart, the Queen, the Rebel, and Captain Warmheart had brought their bonds. Queen Athena had given the quest her blessing. The fliers assented. All would expect the crawlers to do the same.
But the gnawers had not yet struck to extinguish "the rest." They battled the killers, and their allies the fliers. But always those species planned for war. Relished it. Hunters and killers could not bear peace. But crawlers? Never did they seek war. Strive, pain, killing, never did the masters of time seek these things. They would fight only if younger species forced it.
No words of the Diplomat or the Ironheart could change that basic truth. So King Aeon focused his echolocation on the two Overlanders. The killers and fliers must have decided the boy was the warrior. Perhaps he would be… in time. But that time was not yet. Soft of face, slight of frame, he bore not the sword.
But the princess… she was herself already. Pure of heart, and pure of sight.
"Hi, you! Go ride? We go ride?"
"Knows me, the princess, knows me?" Temp's voice carried awe, and reverence.
This princess saw the crawlers in truth, knew them as no warmblood before her. Not even the Diplomat saw crawlers, though his long effort did him credit. This princess loved his people. Her brother, who might become the warrior one day, encouraged her to temper her joy and affection, and she became more gentle. Temp introduced himself, and soon the pure heart rode about the chamber on his back. Majestic. Innocent. One who sees and feels with truth.
Heart shaper she be… and more than heart shaper. Holy this one be, unique. If she were to call, we would assent. But never would this one call, never. For to violence this one never seeks, never this one.
The Diplomat and his iron wife spoke with Aeon, who listened patiently. But they had naught to say that would stir the myriads. War with gnawers would cost many thousands. If needed, thousands would give their time on behalf of their fellow crawlers... but not for warmbloods.
But the last thing the princess did before curling up with her brother… was to hug Tick and Temp, and give them a strange Overlander blessing.
"Honors us, the princess, honors us?" Tick whispered.
The words were repeated in wonder. First in the language of killers, but then swifter in the crawler language. Messages were sent, in clicks, taps, and scratches, propagating throughout Aeon's realm.
And the King listened.
Spinners wove webs, and when a strand was plucked they could sense it clearer than sight or echolocation. But the crawlers… they were a web. A hundred thousand minds, close to each other, united, all of them patient and thoughtful and looking toward an endless future. The news of the princess spread, reaching all. Hours passed, and decisions flooded back.
Crawlers did not want war.
The Overlander boy was not yet the warrior.
But… the princess… the princess was something… new. Something special. The will of the multitude reached Aeon.
Aeon descended from his perch. Slowly, regally, he approached the place where the princess slept. He waited at her side, silent and patient, until at last she stirred. Gently, he rested one antenna on her soft hand. She opened her eyes, fiddled with the wondrous device she held, and light spilled forth.
She smiled.
The King knelt low, she placed her hand on his head, and then he slowly turned away. The princess rose, not disturbing her brother, and followed.
A vast stretch of the chamber floor had been cleared. With a low bow, the King bade the princess wait, and watch, and listen. Quiet, calm, as if in a dream, the bubbly, energetic little girl.. waited, and watched, and listened.
For thirty-one minutes and forty-one seconds, the King and his people honored the princess, she who saw them, she who would give them time. In total silence, they performed the Ring Dance, while the regal child observed. She spoke not, she played not. Her light slowly passed over them, but in no other way did she touch them. Their obeisance entranced her, and despite her youth and innocence, she felt the power of this ritual.
The fliers and other humans woke by the time the ceremony concluded, and the crawlers returned to their private lives. The King ascended his stone. Tick and Temp knelt before him. "Join the quest you may, join the quest," Aeon said. "The princess, we follow, the princess."
Tick and Temp bowed low.
"Fear you to fly, fear you?" the King asked. "Fear you to die, fear you?"
"For the princess we fly, the princess," Temp said.
"For the princess we die, the princess," Tick said.
"Live may you both, live you," Aeon said. "But die four will, die four. Live must the princess, must live."
As a united people, the crawlers assented. All would serve the princess, that the princess might give all time.