Long May He Reign 1 (Patreon)

Christoph Brwn swallowed nervously as he approached the Silver Throne, kneeling as he reached the dias, keeping his eyes on the steps leading up to the throne and not looking at The King’s form or that of his Brides. According to legend the Silver Throne was made from the skull of a man that thought himself a dragon, in the early days of The King’s life, before he’d earned the title that had all but erased his name. That was centuries ago, long before any of Cristoph’s line had begun to serve The King.

“Rise,” The King spoke at last, pulling Cristoph from his thoughts as he obeyed.

“How may I serve you, Your Highness?” Cristoph asked, keeping his eyes averted. The King was a god, and Cristoph as a lowly mortal was unworthy to gaze upon his form in person. There was a rustling sound as The King stood, the echoing thumps of his footsteps sounding like nothing less than claps of thunder in the Great Hall.

“Follow me.”

Wordlessly, Cristoph did so, trailing behind The King as the immortal ruler exited the palace, stepping into the courtyard and staring out at the Earth and Moon sitting in space. For a moment, Cristoph forgot his place, looking up at the planet that had birthed him and the human race, The King’s back silhouetted against the blue and green orb.

Realizing what he was doing, Cristoph averted his gaze once again, as The King spoke, “Do you know what’s on the other side of Earth? Fifteen orbital shipyards, twenty space stations, and three space elevators. Beyond Earth, seven dome colonies are thriving on Mars, two cloud colonies on Venus, and countless mining operations in the asteroid belt. The total population of the human race is in the region of ten billion, when at the end of my war against Zion it was a mere one and a half million, all sequestered here, on my Asgard. Five hundred years of rebuilding, of guiding humanity, of gazing out into space… “

“Your Highness?”

“Pay it no mind. You have been wondering why I called for you? Perhaps fearing that I took offense to your latest research paper, describing the historical repercussions of some of my early foes?”

“I live to serve, Your Majesty. However, I must admit, the thought did occur to me.”

There was a quiet rumbling, and it took Cristoph a moment to realize that The King was chuckling, “Tell me Professor Brwn, in all your research did you ever come across my name?”

Cristoph frowned, instinctively wanting to lash out at the mere suggestion of mentioning The King’s name, but the fact that it was The King himself asking made him hold his tongue long enough to get himself under control.

“I have not, Your Majesty. I know where the ancient texts containing it are kept and have access to them, but on top of my not being worthy to know it, I cannot read Old Gothic,” Cristoph answered.

The King chuckled again, quietly murmuring to himself. Had Cristoph not gotten new hearing aids a few days prior, he would have missed it, “Name’s gotten the Yahweh treatment.”

Cristoph didn’t respond, even as his mind tried and failed to identify the name mentioned. There were no records of any of The King’s early allies or enemies by that name, and the sheer destruction caused during and just prior to the Golden War meant that records from before The King’s rise to power were sparse at best.

“In any event,” The King spoke, turning away from Earth to look down at Cristoph, pulling the archivist from his musings at the same time. “I called you because from everything I’ve heard, I believe you are best suited to a task I have in mind. You are going to record my history, as I remember it. Starting with when I gained my powers through the Golden War.”

“Your Majesty!” Cristoph gasped, words failing him as he realized the honor that was being suggested. “I am unworthy of such a blessing. Surely there are others…”

“You have gone on record saying that history must be recorded as it was, regardless of how events of the past are viewed in the present. I don’t want someone who will alter my story to make me look more favorably, I was my story recorded as truthfully as I can remember. I’m not going to pretend my memory is perfect, but I plan on telling it as close to the facts as I can.”

The King led Cristoph back into the Palace, to one of the many smaller halls where a table was set up with a platter containing a roasted boar, alongside a large array of potatoes, onions, and other various vegetables. Taking the seat offered, it was all Cristoph could do to maintain his composure. He had been asked to record The King’s story in his own words, and was dining with him? Five year old Cristoph would never have believed it!

Finally, after Cristoph had eaten his fill and The King had finished the rest, Cristoph pulled out his data slate and hesitantly raised his gaze to look upon The King. He was tall, seven feet at least, and with broad shoulders thick with dense, corded muscles. His hair was brown, cropped short and matched with short stubble covering his chiseled jaw.

It was easy to see why, even before he became The King, women would flock to him: he was the perfect physical embodiment of masculinity. Combined with his seemingly limitless physical and mystical powers, and there was literally no greater man in existence.

"Where would you like me to begin, Your Majesty?" Cristoph asked, focusing back on the task at hand.

The King leaned back in his chair, throwing his mind back to centuries past, before answering, "It was the year 2008 AD, in the month of May. I was a simple man, no skill at arms or great power. No different from any of the men loading supplies to be shipped from one place to another. I was married to a beautiful, intelligent woman and had a daughter that was growing up to be even more so.

"I lived in the city of Brockton Bay, and my name, then and now, was Daniel Hebert."