Inheritance

The river ran backwards on the day the Queen vanished. The leaves drifted upwards to their naked branches, the apples on the ground shedding their rot. Even the animals, at least those of lesser intelligence, were affected; the rabbits leapt out of the ground as the squirrels dug up their nuts, spreading them across the fields and forests as the once encroaching winter now faded back to autumn.

The Prince Cormac stared out of the stained glass window of the Queen’s bedchamber, observing the troubling phenomenon. He was joined only by the Steward, who had informed him of the Queen’s disappearance.

“I want to hear it again,” said the Prince, continuing to face the glass.

“Her majesty was put to bed by—” began the Steward.

“No. Not from you. From her.”

The Steward paused for a moment, displeased.

“Very well. I will fetch her.”

“Oh, and if you see the Queen’s Hand, tell him his presence is requested. Dumb fool is never around when it’s convenient.”

“Of course, your highness.”

The Steward disappeared behind the door and down the stairs, his footsteps echoing against every brick of the stone halls. The Prince continued to peer at the scenery, picking apart every detail as if trying to remember a dream. The surreal visuals were puzzling to comprehend. The orange light scattered across the sky slowly faded, revealing the stars as the morning sun set backwards into night.

Behind him, the Lady of the Bedchamber rushed in, panting.

“You wanted to see me, Your Highness?” She asked.

“Ciara,” Cormac started. He paused, momentarily overcome with grief, but pushed it behind his heart to be dealt with later. “Ciara, what happened to my mother?”

“In truth, I don’t know. I came to check on her at daybreak, less than an hour ago I suppose… it’s hard to tell now with the sun doing what it is… but I entered the bedchamber and she was gone. I suppose it’s possible she got up and left in the night, but she was old, and ill.”

“Did she mention anything to you last night? Have you noticed any weird behavior?” He asked, his voice desperate.

“No, nothing,” she said. “I discovered she was missing, and immediately told Steward Davis.”

She stopped and looked around the room, then to the window.

“Is it getting darker?” She asked.

“You haven’t seen?” Cormac responds. “The whole world’s gone mad. It’s only a matter of minutes before the entire Kingdom is in a panic.”

Ciara wandered to the window, bewildered at the sight. She fixated on a puddle in the garden, slowly bubbling to the surface.

“It rained last night,” she said in a daze. “All that water is going to get sucked back up into the sky…”

Cormac stared at her silhouetted figure as the grief and panic once again tried to push its way out of his chest.

“I don’t know what to do. I’m not sure my mother would even know what to do, but… I can’t do this alone. I can’t—”

“You’re not alone,” she said. Ciara turns to Cormac, taking his hand in hers. “I’m right here. I’ll always be right here for you. You know I love you.”

“I love you too,” he said.

She wrapped her arms around the back of The Prince’s neck, pulling him into a gentle hug. It was quiet, intimate, accompanied only by the sound of flowing water and the occasional cry of a songbird. It was an innocent moment, albeit stained by tragedy and the potential for scandal.

The door swung open. Ciara pushed herself away from The Prince, her face shifting from pink to scarlet. Cormac felt his heart sink, then sink again as he looked to find Podrick, the Queen’s Hand, smirking as he stood in the doorway with an upturned nose.

“Getting handsy with His Highness, are we?” Podrick asked. “Not very ladylike. And The Prince with a common girl? How… untraditional.”

“What do you want, Podrick?” Cormac asked.

“My presence was requested,” Podrick snapped back. “And besides, I have information about The Queen.”

“Spill it, Podrick,” snapped Cormac.

“Well, I was going to ask for a price—good information isn’t cheap, you know—but I’ll consider knowledge of this, news, shall we call it? It’s payment enough.”

“Everyone always says you’re a pompous ass,” Ciara said. “Now I know why.”

“Ciara, it’s okay,” Cormac interrupted. “Podrick, just say what you’ve come to say.”

“I’ve worked with The Queen for a long time. Long before you were even born, little prince. And back then, she was a very different woman. Much more concerned with power… longevity… she asked me to advise her on different types of magic, those that may extend her life, and her reign… she sought to be immortal. I informed her of the magics I knew, but also the dangers associated… but she wasn’t interested. And in her quest for eternal life, she managed to curse herself—and the world, I suppose—I witnessed the ritual. It was tragic. She sought to extend her life to the end of time, but instead tied time itself to her life… and now the world runs backwards.”

Cormac stood in shock, grief and panic clawing through his ribs like rats in a cage.

“So what you’re saying is…” he sputtered.

“Yes,” said podrick. “Congratulations, Your Majesty. You are now King."