King Him, Not Me

“I heard there’s going to be a battle soon.” a man grins as a young woman places his drink on the table, he talking to his friend across from him.

“A battle, you say?”

“He’s got it all wrong.” the waitress puts her free hand on her hip, “It’s a competition to find Galedon a new king or queen. The rebel leaders came up with it and have been announcing it for the past few months.”

“A new king, huh? Maybe,” the man grins, “I should try and enter!”

“Please,” his friend smirks slyly, “you can’t lift a sword, you can barely lift a barrel.”

Outside the shop, more people are talking about the competition. The announcement was made by patrolling knights a few months ago, word traveling around as the sun moved higher in the sky. Soon, not only this capital, but the entire kingdom found out about it. Some joked about how they planned on entering and others swore it seriously, the serious ones beginning to travel to the capital.

A woman storms out of her two-story cottage, making her way to the flower field across from it. There laid her lazy nephew, his eyes closed as a soft breeze passes by.

The woman stops next to the young man then puts her hands on her hips, “Winston Donovan Free, if you don’t get up and start making your way to the capital then I’ll force you to!”

“I don’t see why I have to go to this contest.” the young man turns on his side, “It would be a waste of time.”

His eyes shoot open as he gets forced on his back, his lids spreading further apart when he sees a knife in his aunt’s hands. She smiles sweetly, “It’s either the competition or your life! Please make the right choice!”

“But why do I have to go?! Aren’t women allowed to participate?!”

“I’m old,” the woman states, “and you’d make a wonderful king.” she twirls the knife around before putting it back in its sheath, “This competition is a chance for you to open your eyes and see the magnificent person you really are. You’re a Free for God’s sake.”

Winston closes his eyes as he sighs, “Alright… I’ll go.”

“Good,” his aunt gets off him, “I packed your bag for you. If you start now then you’ll be at the capital’s gates before nightfall.”

After Winston stands, the two make their way back to the large cottage. The woman walks into the kitchen while the young man heads upstairs to his room, seeing his bag filled with items on his desk. He then walks towards his window and opens it, sitting on the windowsill. If he goes to compete in the competition and wins, this will be his last time seeing these wide-open spaces and trees for a very long time. He’d be trapped behind stone walls and must walk on cobblestone roads instead of paths made of dirt. People would look to him for answers, people would want him to guide them. Winston doesn’t want any of that.

He pushes his lips together then leans his head against the side of the window, lowering his upper eyelids a little as he looks at the scenery in front him for, possibly, the last time. Copious amounts of trees, tall and short green grass, spring flowers of all kinds, farm animals relaxing in the warm rays of the afternoon sun. This is what he wanted to see when he opens his window, not a town square or a market street packed with people.

“Winston, you better get a move on,” his aunt shouts from downstairs, the young man huffing before going to gather the things he plans on bringing with him.

~

Winston’s aunt was right, he did make it to the capital by nightfall.

The young man reaches in his pocket then looks at his palm as he enters the city, gold coins in it. This would be enough for a night at a local inn and get some food. He could also buy some supplies if he needed them.

Winston sighs then lifts the strap of his bag on his shoulder, walking until he found an inn.