Ep.40: On Deaf Ears, Part 4

“Fukai?” Ramsey stares at me with disbelief.

“This is the King’s throne room, you shouldn’t go barging in like that!” Anaea grabs me by the arm.

“She’s right!” Maka says while looking at King Al’Jun. “Ummm… I’m sorry, King Al’Jun! For disturbing you so late in the night!” Maka quickly gets on his hands and knees and bows towards the king, his upper ears down against his head.

“The King?” I say, looking towards the king who is sitting upon his throne with a ferocious look. “Oh, so you’re Ramsey’s old man?!” I say, smiling.

Ramsey quickly runs over and grabs me by the shoulder, looking me dead in the eyes. “What the hell are you doing here!?” He asks with a ferocity I haven’t seen on him before.

“Wow… Ramsey, who died and made you king?” I ask flippantly while picking my nose. “…But if you must know…” I look at Ramsey with conviction. “Something that’s this important can’t wait ‘til the morning.” I shrug off his grip and stride past him and approach King Al’Jun. “Yo! Ramsey’s old man. There’s something I got to tell you.”

After my friends chastise me some more, Maka and I proceed to tell King Al’Jun about all the things we witnessed while adventuring within the Deep Jungle. The way the creatures of the Deep Jungle feared the Ashen. About the great swaths of the jungle that have already been claimed by it. Our realization that the missing scientists and warriors were consumed by it. Then, finally, we described to him how there was a mysterious woman who played some music, then up and disappeared with the winds.

Throughout all this, King Al’Jun keeps quiet and listens calmly.

“You see, there’s something going wrong within our country… and it’s our duty as Warriors to put a stop to this,” I say with confidence.

“I see,” King Al’Jun responds while sitting on his throne.

Maka, Anaea, and I look at each other with relief, thinking the king believes what we have seen is true.

“I see my son has chosen friends with no respect:” King Al’Jun states, “no true understanding of what it means to be a Warrior,” he ramps up, “no understanding of how the land of Apo works!” he shouts, slamming his fist down on the armrest of his throne.

I suddenly feel a sense of doom come over me. “Why…?” I say, disbelief taking away any more words I could say.

“Guards! Get these kids out of my sight!” King Al’Jun shouts.

“What do we do now, Fukai?” Maka cries out as he struggles with a guard.

“Get your hands off of me!” Anaea shouts.

“Why… Why don’t you believe us?!” I ask as a couple of guards drag me away.

“It’s not a matter of whether or not I believe you, it’s because I know who you are and where you come from,” King Al’Jun pauses for a second, “that I never want to see you again,” King Al’Jun says, watching unblinkingly as the guards escort us out of the throne room.

“And stay out!” One of the guards shouts as they throw us out of the palace.

“What do we do now, Fukai?” Maka asks, his voice laden with defeat.

“I don’t know, Maka,” I say in disbelief.

“It’s too early to be giving up, guys!” Anaea announces as she stands up behind us, dusting herself off with a smile. “Even if the king doesn’t listen to us… that doesn’t mean no one else will!”

I tilt my head backwards, looking up at Anaea with a smile. “You’re right.” I quickly jump back up to being on my feet. “Alright! Let’s do this!”

Maka and Anaea look at each other and nod their heads before declaring, in unison, “Let’s go!”

As Maka, Anaea, and I begin our search for someone to believe our words, I make sure to engrave this feeling onto my heart. This night I’ll remember and reflect on. I’ll remember the disappointments, the hopefulness, and being utterly helpless. That in the grand scheme of things we’re nothing but a speck of dust. “Dammit.”

That night, every person we approach, every plea we make, every word we speak seems to fall on deaf ears. Even so, with every lesson I learn, there’s one that gives me the hope to move forward. That even in the darkest of nights, the smallest voice can be heard.

“Ye warriors, so young and brave,

never lose hope on the darkest of days,

for the night is still young.

Ye warriors must fight on.

Oh, Ye warriors must fight on.”

“Huh?” I say, looking off in the distance.