The DiaryMature

Glass, that’s what this room was made of, a crystal dome atop the building, absorbing the heat and cold, warming the palace underneath. Hisma stopped averting his eyes from the hurting beams, and witnessed Kodal before him, carrying a large bird of a magnificent colour on his forearm. The bird had long blue and red feathers that fell to the floor in a coil, and a hooked beak wielding a horn that curled to its forehead. Surrounding him was several carefree birdlife of all different sizes and brilliant colours of purple, blue, red and yellow.

“Topp needed feeding,” Kodal said, smiling sadly, “No one else can feed her the way I do.” Kodal was feeding the bird a pear from the towering Troam tree from the garden. She ripped it open with her sharp beak, and began eating and drinking the yellow fruits flesh and its rich juices.

Hisma was unsure, panting still, but his eyes grew as if they understood.

“I care for her wellbeing, but I don’t know if I should or if it’s my birthright to be a caring person.”

Hisma, still tasting metal, showed concern.

“Tell…Tell me about my mother….” he began, wanting assurance, “Was she a good person? Was she caring?”

Hisma was silent for a moment, thinking of what to say. He walked up to Kodal’s face and said calmly: “She loved you more than anything, and cared for everyone.”

Kodal felt warm inside, but went cold once he realized that she wasn’t there. He smiled, but shortly after he became misty eyed.

“Why didn’t I know her? Why did she leave me here?” Kodal’s smile was short lived. He let Topp go and she glided back with the other birds.

“It’s just that, I never knew her. I didn’t know my father, and to see something of his is so….shocking. I never knew,” Kodal stressed.

Hisma backed a bit away from Kodal, feeling puzzled on the situation. Then he started to laugh.

Kodal looked at Hisma with little knowledge to what Hisma was doing. He was laughing? Did Hisma have little or no respect for how down Kodal was feeling at this moment?

Hisma was crying with laughter, as if it the subject was funny. No, hilarious.

In no more than a second, Hisma ran into Kodal’s face, his laughing stopped in sarcasm.

“M’lord, can you hear what you’re saying?!” Hisma said with mixed emotion.

Kodal couldn’t believe what he was seeing; his nose was so close to Hisma’s face, he was afraid to talk. All he did was give Hisma a fairly curious stare.

“Oh, for Sunday’s sake! Kodal, do you know who you are anymore? Have you forgotten everything that I have taught you about you and your family? Or has your grief clouded your judgment?”

Kodal stood his ground, puzzled, saying nothing.

Hisma stood puzzled as well, confused as to why Kodal didn’t grasp on what he was trying to explain.

“Kodal, M’lord, you’re a god!”

Kodal stepped away in disgust, “No I’m not!” he snapped, feeling insulted by that… title that Hisma laid upon him. It sounded like filthy mud the way that he said it.

” I’m not human either” Kodal added, feeling rather foolish hearing those words come from his mouth. He hated that title too.

Kodal. Not completely god, not completely human.

A Half blood.

 ”I don’t intend to be and as far as I can tell, I’ll never be. Besides, I’m not fully blooded as a god, it can never be. And Sunday…. My mother is gone… and she can’t anoint me as a god.”

“Not true M’lord, just because she is gone, doesn’t mean you can’t become one, and the fact that you’re not human will not be an issue, it can be solved! You can become immortal!”

“She’s gone, she can’t name me,” Kodal said, feeling down, “and besides, I don’t want it.”

“Don’t deny who you are M’lord. You have god blood within your young veins, and it cannot be ignored.” Hisma said.

A blue feather cloaked bird waltzed towards Kodal and polished its long narrow beak on his robe, it ruffled it feathers and chirped. Kodal reached into his pocket and pulled a handful of small clusters of grain, molded together with honey and threw to the ground. The bird hungrily pecked at it from the marble floor, purring in acknowledgement. At the look of Kodal’s face, Hisma could tell what he was thinking, of her.

Hisma was pacing the floor, thinking the same thing.

“What about-“

“I don’t want to talk about it-“

“But M’lord-“


Hisma backed down at his order.

“Why are you so eager? Is it so important for you to control my actions, to rule my life?” Kodal snapped.

“You know the answer to that, M’lord. Of course it is, and I must do my duty. I made a promise to your mother, and in no way do I want to break it. Your safety is my only concern.”

Kodal flinched unexpectedly.

Hisma, having not noticed, continued. “You are seventeen years of age M’lord. You are nearing adulthood, your birth date at the end of summer. This is your only chance to become immortal and divine, your last chance to take this opportunity to continue your mothers legacy. It’s what she would have wanted. And it’s what she wanted me to encourage you to do!”

Kodal sighed in frustration, “Well if that’s the case, if that was her wish, then how does she expect it to come true? She is not here and never will be able to! I’m doomed to stay mortal and a good thing too.”

Hisma struggled swallowing the lump forming in his throat. “Don’t be so quick to decide something this big, M’lord! Don’t miss such an opportunity based on unknown facts! I’m just giving you options!”

The tension between the pair was growing apparent. Hisma took a moment to breathe deeply before he continued with his argument.

Kodal smiled thinly. He knew that Hisma cared about him, that’s why he did these things, but it was only recently that he had become more…pushy with his encouragements.

“Where’s my father?”

“You know I haven’t been able to answer that M’lord, for a long time now.” He replied calmly “but now I have something that may help to answer that question.” Hisma raised his hand, the leather satchel hanging loosely from his boney fingers.

Kodal face grew to a puzzled look as he reached out to grab it. Bringing it to his torso, he examined it at close expectation.

“Have a look inside that satchel I gave you M’lord. You may find something that might be useful.” Hisma said.

Unlocking the bent golden buckle latch, he reached into it and got hold of a rectangular object. Its texture felt dusty and scaly from a snake hide. Pulling it out, he revealed it to be an old book. Incredibly old. It looked as if it would fall apart. It was very similar to its carrier, similar symbols all over its front cover, and golden bolts through its spine. He couldn’t help but cough just a little bit from the black dust covering it. Rather curious, he looked back into to satchel and realized that it was filled with some sort of ash. How bizarre. Ignoring it for now, he let his thumbs carefully split open the books pages and gazed at the ink lettering inside. If it did belong to Flood, then it would explain a bit more to his father’s tribal roots.

“Date 2nd of the 11th….. Packed and ready, lance in hand, ready to search the world over… My goddess! This book is his diary? I-It’s like a map! I can find out where he is finally!”

Hisma shifted uncomfortably at Kodal’s excitement. Kodal managed to peel his prying his eyes away from the pages, he noticed his shift. “Where did you get this Hisma?”

Hisma coughed slightly. “….I found it…”

Kodal noticed the hesitation in his voice also. “Where?”

“The southern Axe, M’lord….”

Kodal gulped the remnants of saliva down his throat by those words. He sighed in disappointment. The Southern Axe? What was Flood doing in there? Was he completely insane? Did he want a death wish? That desert, that hellhole, walled up to keep rebellious guardsmen from leaving. Kodal had learnt this much when Hisma on his rare visits to the islands little port; he would fetch a newspaper to keep him and the servants up to date in the on goings of tempo. It wasn’t like they could take advantage of the events going on and leave the palace, that would be too dangerous, but it was good to know that the rest of the nation was functioning properly.

“Do you want to follow it, M’lord?”

Kodal, clearly forgetting Hisma’s behavior earlier, gripped tightly to the diaries edges. “I guess so. I would very much like to see my father, or to at least know that he’s alright… and tell him that I exist… he’d be very surprised.”

Kneeling next to a nearby bird stroking its blue feathers, Kodal was pondering. He was sick to death of this palace, this prison. Chewing on his bottom lip in concentration, he rose up once again and joined Hisma’s gaze. “Fine… I will use this book. I will try and find him. But just because he may have the ability to name me a god doesn’t change my mind in the slightest.”

Hisma smiled at Kodal’s decision. He knew that this journey over tempo may influence Kodal to change his mind. He nodded in acknowledgement. He really does care about him. After all, he took him to this palace and has kept his safe here for seventeen years. He’s been like a father figure, and Kodal his been like the son that he once had. It helped him to move on.

“But I have one condition.” Kodal added.

Hisma nodded again in response, listening carefully.

“I want you to come with me.”

Hisma chuckled at this. “Believe me, I wouldn’t have given you a choice.”

They shared a laugh, but then stopped when they realized that they need to go down those stairs. Again. They both took deep breaths. Kodal licked his lips. “Race you down!” and then he was off, running out of the glasshouse.

“Oh for Sundays sake.” He groaned and ran after.

Tasting metal.

Legs like jelly.

All over again.

The End

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