A Tale Of Two Kings

Many years ago, when the world was young and wild, a great King ruled a vast Kingdom that stretched form the southern sea to the barren north.  The King was named Trevor of Arx, and his Kingdom was called Arklnd.  This king had two fine sons, named Devan and Michael.  Devan was widely regarded as the finest warrior of all the land, fearless and strong, and wild as the winter blizzards.  His brother and twin, Michael, had the finest shot with a bow of any mortal man of the time.  He was a contrast to his brother, cool and reserved.

Time passed, and presently the King grew ill.  His sons and the rest of his subjects feared for his health.  They also had no idea who his heir would be, as his sons were equal in prowess and wisdom, as well as being twins.  One half of the court thought it would be one prince; the other half thought it would be the other. These two factions had great debates on the virtues of their candidate, and no conclusion was reached.  Meanwhile, the King’s health steadily deteriorated.

Eventually, the King could not bear to see the turmoil his court was going through continue.  He called his two sons together, as well as his noble Lords and brave nights.

“It is the decree of the King,” he shouted, “that one son shall rule after I am gone.  He shall be....”  The King’s words were cut short by a spasm of coughing.  Then, falling as a great oak would, the once mighty king died, his decree unsaid.

The court was a great clamor of voices and shouts as the courtiers saw what had happened to their noble King. 

”Our King is dead!” they shouted, “We must have a new one, or our mighty empire will crumble into dust!” There were cries of “Devan!” and “Michael”, but the day ended with no new King.

On the second day, it was determined that the two princes would have a trial of combat to decide the new King.  However, there was no way to have a fair fight, as both princes had different styles of fighting.  If a target-shooting contest were to be arranged, the winner would surely be Michael, but if a melee were fought, it would greatly favor Devan.  Thus the first day since the King’s death passed with no conclusion reached. 

The third day was no better.  Some argued that the bow was a coward’s weapon, and that the battle would only be fair if it was fought face to face.  Others said that a bow was the purest weapon, as it required more skill than a sword or axe.  No one could agree on a single way to fight, and so the second day passed much as the first.

The fourth day was a day of enlightenment.  The court came up with a system that would allow both contestants to be equally matched.  A target would be placed 200 paces from the princes, and each would try to pierce it with steel before the other.  They could be armed in any way they chose.  Naturally, Devan chose a sword, and Michael chose a bow and a quiver of arrows.  Peasants and nobles alike flocked to the court to see the contest, as it promised to be a great one.

On the fifth day the contest took place.  The two princes lined up at the start as a bugler announced the beginning of the battle.  Immediately, Devan launched himself at the target, running as fast as the wind.  Equally fast, Michael pulled an arrow from his quiver, drew back his mighty bow, and let fly.  His first shot missed, but Devan still had a way to run before he could sheath his sword in the target.

Another arrow was let loose, and another yard was gained, but with the same result.  The cheering was wild, as fans called out “Devan!” or “Michael!” to support their champion.  Devan was drawing near the target, but as Michael found the range his shots were getting more accurate.  The crowd was in a fury, screaming and shouting even louder with every second. 

Eventually, Devan was at the target.  He drew back his mighty sword to claim his kingship, when an arrow took him through the back.  It was his brother’s, and not only had it pierced his heart but also that of the target.  Thus it was that Michael was crowned King, but his brother paid a terrible price for the combat of the throne.