The King Of Malakiir (a short story)

There was once a kingdom named Malakiir, that existed in a far away place - what some would call a different plain of existence. Malakiir was a great kingdom, its borders stretching for hundreds of miles in every direction. Its capital was Mala, and it was located in the very center of the kingdom.

Mala and Malakiir beyond were both ruled by a very great king, a man spoken of in many legends and songs, but he was not always great. Once Alattesi – this was the name of the king – was a greedy and selfish man, who cared nothing for his people. All day, he would sit in his palace and count his money and gemstones, while below, in his city, the people of Malakiir suffered from hunger and disease.

Once, Alattesi was a greedy young man, who cared nothing for the welfare of his people. Some said, he had mirrors hung all over his palace, just so that he could look at himself all day, and some say his servants were phantoms, ghosts, invisible, so that they did not mar the mirrors’ reflection by their presence. It was only legend though, for none really knew what went on in that palace, for none had ever been in it to see for themselves. No one who went in ever came out again.

Alattesi was never seen by his people, and all of his guards and servants were children taken from their homes at a young age, and never aloud to return. Many did not even know their names, so long had they been in the palace.

The only person who ever came out of the palace was Alattesi’s wife, a young woman, likewise stolen from her parents long ago. Aserial was her name, and she was one of the most beautiful women in Malakiir, though from where she had come, it was not known. Every day, she would come out of the palace gates, and stand upon the wall that separated the palace from the city; for one hour. Everybody in Mala loved her, for sometimes she would throw them alms she had stolen from her husband’s coffers. He found out about it one day, and beat her, and made her stop. She was a sad girl, and often the people would see her crying as she stood upon the walls.

One day, a terrible thing happened in Malakiir, a plague came, worse than any other that had ever stricken the land before. Hundreds of people died from it, and hundreds more lay ill and could not harvest food, or do the work to support their country. Alattesi did not care for their ailments, but forced them to continue working, even when they were ill, threatening them with death if they did not comply. Hundreds more died under his cruel reign, some from illness, some by the guillotine.

One day, a man named Rak came to Malakiir. He was a tall, dark haired man, who wore a great black, billowing cloak. Many were afraid of him, and called him a wizard. Rak did not hate them for their fear, but rather, he helped them, plowing their fields and tending their sick, and the ailment that poisoned the land did not lay its hand on him.

One day he came to Mala itself, and in the great square of the city, right beneath the palace walls, he built a great fire, and all the city was choked in smoke, and in his coffers, the eyes of Alattesi burned. Over this fire, Rak placed a great cauldron, and into it he poured many things of the earth, plants and flowers from all corners of the land.

For seven days the cauldron burned, filling the air with steam and smoke, and all the while, Rak stood by it, dark cloak drawn around him. Then, when the seven days were up, and all the liquid of the cauldron had burned away, the people of Mala emerged from their homes with wonder, for they were cured! All the ill in the city were made better by the steam the cauldron sent up! They were healthier than they had ever been.

There was great rejoicing in the city, and in all the lands of Malakiir, for with the wind, the cure spread to all corners of the kingdom. Now, Aserial, who had witnessed this miracle from her place on the walls, went to her husband, and told him of the wander that she had seen. Rather than being overjoyed, Alattesi was furious, and he sent out word, the good stranger was to be arrested for witchcraft and burned at the stake!

The people of Mala were furious, but they were also afraid, and so, did not rebel when the guards came and took Rak away in chains. For the first time in years, the gates of the Palace were opened, and Rak entered, and was brought before the angry young king.

“You are accused of sorcery.” Said Alattesi to the stranger, “and for that you will be burned.” Rak though, showed no fear, and even in his chains he stood tall and proud, and faced the evil young king.

“I will make a deal with you.” He told Alattesi, “You may burn me for witchcraft in one months’ time. Until then however, you are to let me instruct you in the ways of this world, and if after that month is up, you understand that it was no magic that I used to cure your people, you must set me free, and let me go back to my people, and take also, Aserial, who you stole from her father, the king of that land.”

The prince was enraged by this, and asked why he should do as Rak asked, when he could order the execution right then. Then Rak told him something that made Alattesi greedy for the knowledge the stranger held. He told him that he knew the secret of making gold, and that if after a month, Alattesi still did not believe that his feats were not born of magic, he would teach him how before he was executed. This deal Alattesi could not refuse.

So Rak was allowed to live for one month, and the King made him a room in the highest tower of the palace, and kept him locked in. Every day the prince would go up the long flight of stairs, and shut himself away with Rak in the tower's highest room. No one else was ever allowed to enter, for Alattesi did not want any but him, to learn the stranger’s secrets.

At first, he kept Rak in chains, but soon, so that the stranger could better demonstrate his teachings, he let him wonder free. Days passed, and with each dawn, Alattesi would mount the stairs, and not come down until sunset. He never spoke of what it was the stranger taught him, and in that month was crueler than ever before, for he was frustrated by the teaching of this man, many of which he did not understand.

More time passed, until thirty days had gone by, and for the last time, Alattesi ascended the stairs of the tower, and entered the room of his captive tutor. Rak was waiting for him, sitting upon the ledge of the window and looking out over the city of Mala. As the King entered, he turned to face him.

“Our month is up.” He said, “I have taught you all I know of this world, of the sciences and mathematics that govern it, of the medicines that the earth gives up to us. All except for the one secret that you crave the most, how to make gold out of anything.” Here he paused, and for a long time, surveyed the King, “What have you decided?” he asked at last.

Alattesi was not a foolish man, and over the days, he had learned much from his tutor. He had even come to understand that the feat the stranger had performed, in curing his people, was indeed, no feat of magic. He was also, a greedy man, and he had no desire to give up his wife to this man, or to let him leave the palace alive with the knowledge he possessed. Alattesi wanted to be the only one to have such knowledge.

“I believe that you are nothing but a wizard.” Said the king, “and that all you have told me is nothing more that lies contrived to save your neck.” He told him that his sentence would stand, that he would die upon the guillotine before the end of that day. “First though,” said Alattesi, “You must teach me how to make gold.”

“A bargain is a bargain.” Answered Rak, “First you will need this cloak, for it is bestowed with the power you need to do this feat.” He then had the king take off all of his clothes, telling him that the cloak must touch the skin. Eager for the secret of unlimited wealth, Alattesi complied. Then, when he stood naked in the center of the room, facing a tall mirror and admiring his handsome reflection, Rak took of the black cloak he wore, and placed it over his shoulders.

Immediately, the king felt the power that was in that garment, “Now what?” he asked, impatient to have the stranger's last secret. “How do you make Gold?” Rak walked up behind the king, and as Alattesi saw his tutor’s reflection in the mirror, he cowered in fear, for he saw his own face on the man, and that Rak was dressed in his own garments, which he had so trustingly shed. Rak smiled at him from behind this new face, and even as he watched, his own face changed to resemble that Rak had before worn. Now the crafty stranger placed his hands upon the king’s shoulders, and leaning forward, whispered to him, the answer.

“Magic.” He said.

Long have been the days since that stranger wondered the streets of Mala. The people have forgotten him, and the miracle that he did for them upon that day, so long ago, when he cured the illness that assailed them. The palace of Alattesi stands empty, for the king has packed up his queen, and then have departed for distant lands. The servants of the house have been turned loose and sent back to their families.

Malakiir is wealthy now, for all the gold in the king’s coffers has been given back to them, and their city is beautiful and happy now. The alabaster and gold, the silks and the silver are all gone from the palace, sold to enrich the city. In the very center of the city though, where once a stranger had stood and done wanders, stands a statue of a man none know, in a black and flowing cape.

This was placed here by the king, before he left with his queen. It is a gift to his people, to remind them of him, and of the necessity for just laws, and a fair ruler. It is a statue of a man that none recognize, and it is made of gold.




By Analexii (Cassidy R. Scaglione)