Free Ritual of the Stones (Ballad of Frindoth) by Rob Donovan Page B

blemish.
    As a
king, the hardest part of his rule was to preside over the Ritual of the Stones.
This was the third time he would have to do it. He had to watch as twelve
people along with their families were subjected to a living nightmare, not
knowing whether they were going to live or die, before ultimately one was
selected for sacrifice. He took on their grief as if he had a choice and was
somehow responsible for the Ritual. Each time he tried to convince himself that
it was for the greater good of Frindoth, but that did little to make him feel
better. As a king he should be able to protect his people. After all, that is
what they looked to him for.
    The
first time he encountered the Ritual, he offered himself as a sacrifice. When
this proved futile, he spent months ordering scholars to consult the archives,
trying to find a way to defeat the Gloom. He gathered the warlords from all the
regions in the land, endlessly discussing their history with them. He even
risked breaching the hundred-year peace treaty by setting foot on Helvastas
soil to consult with the Lakisdori King Raoul Seth, trying to find something,
anything, that might hint at a weakness in the Gloom.
    The
results of the debate were always the same. No one in the land had any idea how
to fight the Gloom. Reluctantly, Jacquard, like all of the previous kings,
accepted the Ritual of the Stones was a necessity. Now it had come directly to
his doorstep.
    “Where?”
Jacquard said.
    Jefferson
looked away from Jacquard again and stared out over Lilyon, biting his bottom
lip. Below him life went on as normal. People far below scurried about their
business like ants.
    “WHERE?”
    Jefferson
flinched at Jacquard’s raised voice.
    “Where?”
Jacquard repeated more softly this time.
    “In
Prince Althalos’s room, my lord,” Jefferson said.
    Jacquard
fell to his knees. He felt as if he had taken a blow to his stomach. A thousand
thoughts raced through his mind, no, not my boy, not my son , he thought, this can’t be happening. Not only did he have to ensure this terrible
Ritual took place, this time out of the whole of Frindoth, the stones had
selected his only child.
    Two
voices argued inside his head, the voice of Jacquard the father and that of
Jacquard the king. “I can’t let this happen, I won’t let this happen!” the
father voice screamed. “I am the king, I must rule by example. How can I ask
any of my subjects to sacrifice their own lives if I am not prepared to do the
same for me or my own family,” the king in him reasoned. It was the latter
voice that Jacquard knew he would listen to.
    “My lord?”
Jefferson said. Jacquard looked up at his old friend and suddenly felt a pang
of sadness for him. He looked frailer than ever. It couldn’t have been easy for
him to deliver this news and Jacquard suddenly had the overwhelming urge to
console him.
    “Thank
you for telling me this yourself, Jefferson,” he said. “I don’t think I could
have heard it from anyone else.”
    “My lord,”
Jefferson said and then hesitated. He looked his king directly in the eyes
before continuing, “No one else knows … yet.”
    Jacquard’s
mouth opened in amazement. He knew full well what Jefferson was insinuating and
was flabbergasted his advisor thought for one moment that he would even
consider hiding the fact his son had received a stone. Jefferson spoke quickly.
    “No
one has to know, my lord. I am not suggesting that we cover it up for personal
reasons, you know I have more integrity than that. I am thinking of Frindoth,
my king. Althalos is your only son, the only heir to the throne. If he is
selected, then when you are gone Frindoth will be placed into chaos, everyone
will lay claim to the throne. Frindoth will be placed in a worse situation than
if we disobeyed the Ritual and let the Gloom devour the land.”
    Jacquard
shook his head slowly, stunned at what Jefferson was saying.
    “Stop
it,” he murmured, but Jefferson continued getting more and