Chapter thirty eight: passage of time (2)
The crowd held their breath, plaza was silent, so still it felt as though time itself had stopped.
Thousands stood shoulder to shoulder, yet no one dared to say a single word. All eyes were fixed upwards, filled with anticipation as they looked at the the grand wooden hall and the extended platform at the heart of the capital.
The lady chief had gone into labor, trying her best to deliver the next heir. The banners of the golden-eyed dynasty fluttered in the dry summer breeze, casting shadows across the wood and stone made plaza.
just then, the doors to the luxurious wooden building burst open.
From the inner chamber, a figure rushed forth. A old man in golden-white ceremonial robe, his white hair trailing behind him as he moved with surprising urgency.
At first the crowd didn't notice a old man rushing out from the wooden building, with only the extended platform being visible from below the plaza, they didn't see the old man until he approached the raised platform where the chief speaker stood.
The man on the platform with broad shouldered, cloaked in golden white, leaned forward as soon as he saw the old man rushing out. His loud and confident voice rang out, filling every corner of the square below:
"Priest! Has the lady given birth? Has our heir been born?"
The priest, who had nearly stumbled in his haste, halted just before reaching a face-to-face posting with the speaker.
The called out 'priest' looked at the speaker who questioned him. If one were to look closely at his face, they might have seen the flicker of unease in his aged eyes.
He swallowed and bowed stiffly. "Tha-that, Yes… the lady has given birth. Without any complications."
A breeze of relief swept through the man standing at the extended platform, he beamed too quickly and broadly. Not noticing the priest's hesitation at all.
Rising both hands to the sky, the man's rough voice sounded in everyone's ears. "Then rejoice, people of the creator! A new child blessed with the creator's blessing will walk among us!"
"He will continue the golden-eyed line to rule over the lands!"
The crowd erupted. Cheers rolled like thunder across the plaza. Some unrecognisable things, looked to be Drums stationed along the palace walls began getting hit by people with rhythm, flower petals rained down from the wooden balconies above.
But as the celebration began in full force, the priest remained still on the platform, a bead of sweat trailing down his cheek.
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"Aa… Sir Speaker," the old priest, gathering his courage called out, with his old strained but clear voice.
Seeing the speaker on the platform didn't hear,he had to raise it again, "Sir…" but the man standing firm on the extended platform, making announcements to the public in the plaza below, didn't seem to hear even the second time.
The speaker was too engrossed, his voice still boomed as he praised the birth of the heir to the people below, feeding the frenzy of celebration.
The old priest's lips trembled. He glanced back once, toward the building he had come from, before shouting. This time with force that cracked through the noise:
"Sir Rev'dalto!"
That name pierced through the sound. The speaker stopped what he was doing. he turned to face the old priest, his cloak caught the wind as he looked at the person who shouted out his name.
"Priest?" he said, with a smile that stretched wide, the joy on his face didn't waver even after being called out.
But the priest's expression told a different story. Seeing the heartfelt smile of the speaker, and the cheerful voices of the people from the plaza below, he couldn't help but hesitate.
His hands, clasped tightly together moments ago, loosened as sweat began to run from his forehead to his jaw. The cheers in the plaza, the drums and chants, only made the silence between the two men more unbearable.
Rev'dalto's smile faded from concern. He stepped closer, his eyes scanned the old priest, finally noticing the tremble in the priest's stance, his uneven breath, and the cold sheen on his skin.
"What's wrong?" he asked, the worry in the rev'dalto's eyes was visible.
The priest looked up, his were eyes filled with hesitation.
"Th-the child, the heir…" The old priest somehow held his voice together together. His words dangled in this throat, burdened by hesitation. He glanced toward the crowd, then at Rev'dalto.
A bit of doubt warred within his chest.
Seeing the priest hesitate for so long, Rev'dalto's face darkened, even his spine stiffened. "The heir? What do you mean?" His voice was no longer held the joy and cheerfulness it held a moment ago.
Rev'dalto was a man closest to the current chief ruler. Being someone born in the golden-eye bloodline, he considered himself blessed, just like anyone else from his bloodline. So when he found out the lady chief was about to give birth, his happiness was naturally above the sky.
He firmly believed that, a new heir to the golden-eye bloodline meant nothing less than being blessed by the creator.
But his happiness and smile all faded as he looked at the trambling old priest, he couldn't help but feel like something bad has happened . "Speak clearly, priest!"
He took a step forward, his shadow falling over the old man. "What's wrong with the child? Why are you making that face?"
Seeing the old priest hesitate, the uneasiness inside Rev'dalto gnawed like rust beneath armor.
The priest shut his eyes for a long and deep breath. Then, as though cornered by the questions pressing down on him, he threw his voice upwards with all the air his lungs could summon:
"The heir… The heir is a girl."
His cry rang out, cutting across the cheers, rising above the drums, slipping into the ears of thousands present in the plaza below. And the wave of elation from a moment ago turned quite.
All sound, cheering, and motion were replaced by murmurs
Rev'dalto's pupils srank deep, but his mind refused to accept it.
"A… girl?" His rough voice became like dry bark underfoot.
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The idea of a girl being born as a heir was unheard of till now, for as long as everyone could remember, the position of the chief ruler was always held by the eldest son of the active chief ruler.
Rev'dalto's pupils tightened even further, his heart was about come out of his mouth.
'But the current chief ruler had no prior child, let alone any son.' Rev'dalto struggled inwardly as he processed his thoughts.
what a girl being born as the first child of the chief ruler meant? for the line, for the dynasty, for everything that had been carved into their traditions memory.
The people, too, stood frozen. From the audlt to the barefoot children on the stone and wooden plaza.
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When the hereditary monarchy first took root in dharti Five centuries ago, it was based on the unquestioned believe in the blessed bloodline. A power that could use this system to lead the humans was made, creating the title of chief ruler.
Bestowed upon a single figure, the title carried the unquestioned command over the humans in the name being 'blessed' by the creator.
Though there was no discrimination among people, the golden-eyed descendants carried themselves with quiet conviction. Believing, deep down, that the Creator's blessings ran thicker in their veins.
Subconsciously that sense of divine favoritism had embedded itself in the bones of their culture.
With time, the monarchy refined its rituals. As proper rules were made, a decree was passed down: the firstborn of the ruling 'chief ruler' would ascend the mantle. The line would be uninterrupted.
And so from then on, it was every firstborn who had succeeded the title of chief ruler.
But because for reasons unknown, the first child of every chief ruler had been a son. And with each successive generation, a new belief was solidified: the sons was more blessed by the creator to lead the humans, a son was always meant to be the chief ruler.
Because of that coincidence that spread over the centuries, the believe that only a son was meant to be the chief ruler was rooted in peoples mind.
It wasn't that there were no daughters from the golden-eyes bloodline, they existed, yes. But they were always born after the birth of the first son.
This pattern, repeated enough, became believe, believe turned to expectation and became a unspoken rule
But now, on a day meant for celebration, beneath banners stitched with ancestral pride, that repeated line had snapped.
The child born in the great wooden hall was not a son. For the first time in the golden-eyed dynasty's rule, the first cry to echo through the palace belonged to a girl.
And with it, centuries of unspoken certainty cracked, giving way to something the people of Dharti were wholly unprepared for. The seed of doubt too root in peoples mind.
After the initial shock, the crowd began to voice out their disbelief.
"How can this be? A girl?" The question broke like a ripple across the plaza.
Then another one questioned louder, "That's not right, is it? Isn't the firstborn always a boy?"
The air stirred with unease as one doubt gave way to dozens. "Does this mean… a son isn't more favored than a daughter?" someone asked, loud enough to be heard by everyone.
What began as hushed confusion quickly built into waves of murmurs, folding over one another. Words jumped from mouth to mouth. The crowd, once united in celebration, now moved to voice their questions.
On the platform, Rev'dalto's jaw tightened. He could feel the changes in
Their belief, the long established belief was slipping through their fingers, replaced by seed of doubt.
"Silence!" rev'dalto's voice struck through the noise, sounding quite funny.
".....!" The plaza snapped still in an instant. Not one voice dared follow the questions again. The position of rev'dalto, his closeness to the lady chief and the chief ruler gave his words weight that no one dared to oppose.
He cleared his throat with a cough.
"It matters not, boy or girl. The Creator breathes life into both. What's born is still a blessed child from the creator to the blessed bloodline, and we welcome the new hei- ahem" He stopped and coughed again for. "Welcome the new child."
Even though Rev'dalto himself stated it didn't matter, even if the first born was a girl. But he said so just to calm the crowd.
He didn't dare say "The new heir." That word was caught in his throat.
And though he stayed firm, he knew a new change would occur soon, with the first-born child of the chief ruler being a girl.