Chapter 33: Meeting Oldo
The former office of the superintendent was filled with only one occupant. A former Parli guard of about fifty sat in the chair behind the desk, thinking. He flattened his short black hair, freshly cut for a more royal appearance. Thoughts came and went through his mind, each grimmer then the last. He thought of rebellion. The idea frightened him. He stood from his desk and paced the cramped room. There was a part of him that wanted to go back to his statues, where he felt safest. He knew perfectly well that it was a bad thing to want a museum of real people. One does not usually freeze someone by taking away their life source and not feel bad about it. Every now and then he would get nervous, thinking that somehow those statues would come back to life. Usually it was night when those ideas came. He sat back down and once again went back to his first thought.
Once he was king would there be a rebellion? The easy way to keep that from happening was to not return the statues to life. But what use is ruling when there is no one to rule? The thought led to dark places, most he was not able to comprehend before an even darker scenario came up. He wanted no more than to be a ruler that everyone could trust, and yet still be afraid of. Was that even possible?
This was the first time Oldo thought of the negative effects of ruling a mass that had their lives changed dramatically by being flash frozen and then returned to life. He did not like these thoughts at all but could not keep them from his head. The first phase of his ultimate idea (It could not really be considered a plan) had been completed without a backup. After all he did, supposedly, have all of the roses. The next phase required more of a delicate approach. He was not sure if he had any delicacy left in him. That had been used to gain the trust of that group of young ones in the Rough.
Perhaps it was too dangerous to even continue his dream of ruling Parli his way. Besides, how was he ever going to get the sword? He thought of all of the things he would have to give up if he decided to quit. An organized system of capital cities may never actually happen. Parli’s need for an organized, and accurate, curriculum for teachers that would teach in schools instead of huts would also have to be put on hold. And finally his desire to create an athletic competition uniting the whole of the island would never be seen. Maybe it would be best to just apologize and continue with the dream he had given up on years before: finding Memoria. All he ever wanted was to be a ruler as smart and bold as Hulius without ever giving up his ideas of a uniform Parli. The roses were only to ensure his lasting success. With the full magic source that had run Memoria he was certain he could find the path to immortality and a never ending reign, just as Hulius had done. But again, maybe it was all just a dream that was never to be.
Oldo sighed loudly and stood up from his chair. He walked over to the shelf and picked up the small wooden ball he liked so much. The two main islands of the world could be clearly seen. Memoria on one side and Parli on the other, they looked so close together. If only they really were that close. He was about to place the object back when a knock came at the door. He jumped in shock.
“Come in.”
The door opened and Gyrd entered. He was happy to see Gyrd, to tell him about his plans on setting things right again. It seemed instinctive that he quickly look, and frown, at Gyrd’s meaningless tattoos. Then he looked at the man’s face, he was smiling broadly. Oldo suddenly forgot what he was going to say in the glee that Gyrd was showing.
“We got it.”
“Got what?”
“Everything you need to rule Parli.”
Oldo must have looked confused so Gyrd beckoned him to follow. They left the office and went to the mess hall. The statues were arranged in rows, creating what Oldo called “the city”. Gyrd led him through the “roads” to where the minions stood. The big male, as Oldo knew him, was holding a Bay Region girl by her hair. The Rough girl, as Hordna was known, had her arm around a Bay Region boy. The vulnerability and angst that Oldo had felt in his office suddenly vanished when he caught sight of the sword in the other girl’s (Vensa’s) hand.
Oldo pointed to the sword and asked nervously: “Is that . . . it?”
“That sword, Oldo, is the very sword that had been hidden for centuries.” Gyrd was very pleased with himself.
“I looked for years and never found it. Where was it?”
“Hidden deep under a magical room on the third floor.”
“The Forgotten Room, I never even imagined its true purpose.”
“We found it for you with ease.”
Mith suddenly shouted: “We found it!”
For the first time Oldo fully noticed the girl from the Bay. Her face was twisted with anger and sadness. Her cheeks were wet from crying. He stared at her for a time and noticed that she continuously took quick glances to something on her left. He looked in the direction but only saw a statue of a man sitting.
“Who are you?” Oldo asked quietly.
“Mith Hardel.” She said, trying to sound as strong as possible.
“And why are you here Ms. Hardel.”
“To defeat you.”
The minions laughed but Oldo was not amused. He could see the determination in her eyes. She truly believed that she was to defeat him. He continued to stare into her icy glare. Never had he seen a young person with so much anger.
“Why is she here?” Oldo asked around.
Gyrd looked to Vensa to explain. “Sir, they have the last rose.”
Oldo took notice of the bay boy. He had a very similar expression on his face as that of the girl. “Why have you not taken it from them?”
“They have the magic inside of them.”
“I’m sorry, what?”
Gyrd stepped up. “They have –uh—the magic inside of them.”
“I heard that, Gyrd. How did they do it?”
“Why don’t you ask us?” Ludus said through barred teeth.
“Alright,” Oldo bent down to Ludus, “how did you come to get the magic inside of you?”
“I’ll never tell.”
Oldo straightened up, annoyed. “Can somebody tell me what happened?”
There was a silence in the mess hall. Oldo looked from person to person, waiting for a response. No one wanted to be the one to tell the truth to Oldo. Finally Gyrd spoke.
“I believe they broke the rose, and from there . . .”
“Hmmm.” Oldo smiled suspiciously and turned from the group.
“Sir, what should we do with the children?” Vensa asked.
Oldo put his hands on his waist some ten feet from them, turned away. “Leave me and the children. Gyrd, go and get me the roses.”
Gyrd reached for his inside pocket but then stopped. He did not want Oldo to know that he had secretly taken one.
“Yes, I will go and get them.”
Gyrd quickly left the mess hall heading for the stairs. Oldo turned his attention to the minions now. He told them to feed the inmates while he took care of the two kids. The sword was handed to him. Hatchet had a very sinister smile as he left them. Once alone Oldo paced in front of the kids.
“What do you think of my museum?”
Mith spoke bravely. “It is sick.”
“To you, but to see the world wholly is to see through many eyes.”
“There are no eyes left in Parli capable of seeing.”
Oldo liked this girl; she had the attributes any follower of his should have. “Ms. Hardel, you could be so much more than you are right now, if you join me.”
Mith uncharacteristically spat on the floor. “Mr. Oldo, you could be so much more than you are right now, if only you surrendered.”
He merely laughed. “Prepare yourselves,” he raised the sword, “to join your friends here.”