Chapter Text
The hot desert air hit Saparata’s skin as he gradually walked up the sandstone steps of the tallest tower in Theria. He had no other choice. It was the only thing he could do. He would be hunted down if anyone inside or out found out about what he'd done.
He overlooked his kingdom. The people out in the market, the farmers harvesting crops, the guards' armor glinting in the sunlight. Saps had a hand wrapped around one of the pillars of the tower. He closed his eyes and inhaled a sharp breath. He let go of the pillar and stood at the very edge of the tower's ledge.
“Saps?”
Saparata turned to meet his second in command's eyes. “What are you doing up here?” Fluixon interrogated. “You can't be that close to the edge. You'll fall.” Saps looked down, ashamed then turned back to the edge. “I’m sorry, Flux,” He whispered, stealing a glance over his shoulder. “You were a true friend. Thank you.”
It happened too fast. First Saps was there and then he wasn't. Flux stood there, frozen and in denial. His vision blurred as he looked over the edge. Then it struck him. The king of Theria had jumped off the tallest tower in the kingdom. His heart pounded, reminding him this wasn't a dream.
Flux scrambled to the bottom of the tower, tripping on the last step and stumbling forward before steading himself.
On the ground, Fluixon couldn't see even a glimpse of his lover friend. His breath hitched and his heart was pounding so hard he was sure you could hear it.
Theira’s king was truly gone. Saps was gone. And that was just it, Saparata was gone forever.
Flux fled the scene with a hand clutched to his mouth. He could still smell the lingering scent of Saps. The white roses Fluixon had given him. He had said they didn't mean anything with a careless shrug. If only he had told him what they meant.
At the time, Saparata’s second in command was glad he never was taught the language of flowers.
I should have told him. I should have told him. I should have told him. I should have told him. I should have told him. I should have told him. I should have told him. I should have told him. I should have told him. I should have told him. I should have told him. I should have told him. I should have told him. I should have told him. I should have told him. I should have told him. I should have told him. I should have told him. I should have told him. I should have told him. I should have told him. I should have told him. I should have told him. I should have told him.
I should have--
⭑✼✸✻⭑
Fluixon stood in front of thousands of confused citizens of Theria. No one had heard anything of The Incident that happened the following day. Fluixon cleared his throat. “People of Theria. I bring terrible news.” His voice wavered but he went on. Murmurs rippled through the crowd. “Our king–Is dead.” He couldn't sugar-coat it. I mean, how could you?
Several gasps from the crowd. A small child, nearly ten, raised a hand. Flux couldn't speak, not after his announcement. He acknowledged the child with a small incline of his head. “I-i-is King Saparata… not coming back?” They asked. The second in command looked down and shook his head wearily. The child burst into tears. “MOMMY! BRING KING BACK! PLEASE, MOMMY.” Flux held his arms in his hands, slowly backing away. He let an announcer do the rest of the talking. He knew what was coming next.
The announcer stepped forward. He lifted a fisted hand and waited for silence. “There will be a coronation held tonight in the ballroom for our new king,” he announced. “The ex-second in command, Fluixon.” Someone in the crowd laughed awkwardly, waiting for a punch-line that never came.
Just as Flux expected: laughter. Ever since he came here from Alcolon, he was looked down on, shamed for a family line of power and wealth and greed. Not that he cared anymore.
⭑✼✸✻⭑
The lights in the ballroom felt too bright and Fluixon’s outfit was too thick with layers. He stared at the crown resting on a silk pillow. Sap’s crown. The crown he was expected to wear. He took a sip of wine from a decorative glass. He felt people’s gazes scorching into his sides. It was all too much.
He went to the balcony for cold, fresh air. He gripped the railing so hard his knuckles turned white. He took slow, deep breaths until they fully evened out.
The raven haired man looked out on Theira. Saps’s Theira. Not his. None of this was his. He can’t put on a crown and that immediately made him the ruler.
“Fluixon.” Ugh, that name. So clinical and… not right. Saps said it right.
“They are waiting for you, Fluxion.” Flux turned, hands releasing the railings. He walked past The Announcer from earlier. He just wanted this to be over with. But as soon as his violet eyes landed on the crown again, he couldn't do it anymore. He stood at the front, crossing his arms tightly. “Listen up!” He shouted across the hall. Multiple heads turned in unison then were followed by the rest. “I, Fluixon, am turning down the crown and passing it to someone else!” The Announcer looked at him, confused. “You–What?” He asked. “You can't do that now. Who will take over your position?” Flux shrugged. “I don't know. Why don't you figure it out.”
He stormed out of the room and headed to Saps’s room. Sure it was painful to be there, but tonight, it was comforting.
Flux opened his wardrobe and took out a piece of clothing Saps wore all the time when he was—Alive. Flux pressed the cloth to his face, tears seeping into the cream fabric. He would be embarrassed if anyone saw him sob into a dead king’s clothes. So he folded it carefully, and placed it on his bed.
Something struck Flux at that moment. Saps’s body wasn't at the bottom of the tower.