[Novnarwen]

Tarkan

With a sly smile on his face, he approached the new Temple, which was still under construction; it was the Temple of Rae. Seeing it, he realised that it would turn out rather beautifully, in fact, better than he had expected in advance. It was not yet done, but hopefully within a few weeks, maybe even less, it would be ready for his use. The feeling of great satisfaction came over him and touched his inner ego. Finally he would be High Priest; he would no longer be the person stuck playing second fiddle; finally, he would have success! He’d waited a long time for this, too long. Now, seeing the workers put all their energy into building the Temple that would serve the sky god Rae, and him alone, he almost trembled with delight. How long it had taken for the King and the others to understand that Rhais was history. It was Rae who was worthy of worshipping, it was he who was the present and the future; the earth goddess was weak; her time had passed.

The new Temple was not the only reason why he smiled today. Grabbing the letter and the book he’d hid inside of his cloak in his inner pocket, he opened it and grinned. Pelin had outdone himself again with his incredible naivety. At this moment, Pelin was probably biting his head off, angered for not having read all of it, as the little he had read, had intrigued him and had tingled his curiosity. Tarkan didn’t mind though. Pelin had certainly read more than what he’d read aloud, and this had probably been more than enough for him to understand. The Priest looked at the letter partly opening it. If Pelin hadn’t had the chance to read it all, it certainly looked like some sort of will, he concluded. Yes, the thing was actually that one wouldn’t have to be bright to understand that it was not just any will that lay within a book called “Kings of our time.” This was probably the part about the whole scheme Tarkan enjoyed the most; the brilliance of the title of the book.

He’d bought the book on a market sale a few weeks ago. The title had certainly caught his eye, and when seeing that the first pages in the book were blank, he saw his opportunity. This book needs a Prologue, he had thought to himself, seeing that the chance he had been waiting for seemed to finally draw near.

In addition to having seen the letter, Tarkan was sure that Pelin had read the prologue, which claimed to possess secrets of the Royal Bloodline. Pelin hadn’t missed this. Pretty soon, the priest would also be sure to let the poor youngster get wind of something concerning Tarkan’s true identity, and if he succeeded, Pelin would, as quickly as a hawk fly, understand everything. He would without a doubt take the book and the piece of parchment as true evidence of what he had heard. Thinking all of this through, Tarkan was surprised by how much he had accomplished by writing a few sentences on a piece of parchment and placed a book with a highly interesting title on the floor. In this way, evidence which he did not have had been printed with ink; not only on the blank pages in the book, but hopefully also in Pelin’s mind. Now, he was only waiting for the next right moment to strike; Tarkan would give him a hint about the true identity he had recovered on his father’s deathbed, when the King had called him and told him the truth about his Royal Blood; that he in fact was the rightful heir to the throne, and without knowing it, Pelin would be a part of his little game. It was a dangerous game, which Tarkan intended to play until he had won. From this day on, Pelin would be his secret helper and this he had accomplished without Pelin even knowing it himself!

The Priest chuckled silently to himself, being surprised by how brilliant the plan had been and even more surprised by its success! Unfolding the letter fully, he recognized his own handwriting and read what it said:

On my deathbed I have called on my son to reveal the truth that no one knows and will never know, until the day when wrongs are put right.

With this letter, I, King of Pasthia, confirm that my one and only true son, Tarkan, is the rightful heir to the throne.

It was amazing what one could do when one was smart, he concluded, placing he book and the parchment safely into his pocket again.

Looking around, he noticed a familiar figure just outside of the Temple of Rhais. The short glimpse of her, before she disappeared through the steady doors, was enough to make his heart beat violently in his chest. He bit his lip. An idea popped into his head, an amazing idea which he hadn’t thought of before; he hadn’t dared think it. Could it be that he and… He smirked. Yes, yes. Gjeelea, Korak may not be good enough for you, but I am. I really am.. A lost King, reclaiming his rightful throne; what is better than that?