The Tale of Shnyessis
The old lady was slowly swinging herself in a rocking-chair when her grand-daughter came in. Shivering from the absolute cold that fell upon the region that night, she came to warm herself near the fire, hoping none of her brothers would already be there. Lucky enough, the small girl quickly took place in the other rocking-chair in front of her mother’s mother. With a big smile and her eyes wide open, she asked her favorite question: “Grandma, can you tell me a scary story?”. And, with a small on her wrinkled face too, the old woman did.
“Have you ever heard the tale of Cassius Qataris? I didn’t think so. Cassius, or rather Prince Cassius, was a man of noble blood and great wealth. For generations, his family had built themselves a reputation of unbeatable merchants and loyal servants of the crown. With time, they had become the richest men of the kingdom, rivaling even the royal’s treasure.
But when the greedy prince inherited his father’s title at the age of eighteen, he wasn’t satisfied. Every man, woman and child should kneel before their wealth, he thought, for gold was power and the king was a fool. With no one to stop him, as he was the last Qataris and unmarried, Cassius began to plot his conquest.
Knowing he would certainly need allies for his plans, Cassius became the center of revels in the whole kingdom. Dinners, balls, jousts; the Qataris’ mansion was never empty! The prince’s charms were unequaled, and he was damn cunning. Slowly, more and more formed friendships with him (or for him some would say) and soon half of the court was in his pocket. Still, the king was loved and his daughter, heir to the throne, was courted by many, many nobles. A direct action against him would make every one of his new friends to turn on him. He needed to be patient, and gain the king’s trust.
For the next four years, Prince Cassius served the crown with more hardship and loyalty than any other noble in the last century. He established treaties with foreign rulers, almost eliminated criminality in the kingdom and planned the construction of a brand new city. Even the king’s council couldn’t bear to be jealous of the faith the monarch had in him for it was well deserved. And when they all showed their backs with confidence, the stabbing began.
The first one struck was the young princess’ fiancé, a proud boy of noble lineage. While feasting in the royal palace, he was struck down by what seemed to be a heart attack. The story could have ended there with the poor boy’s funerals, but the king’s personal guard similarly died that evening. Soon enough, the castle was on lock down and every guest was interrogated. After hours of questioning, no murder was found and the investigation stop for the night. Everyone returned home, except for Prince Cassius whom the king had demanded to stay close to him, to protect him from any threat.
In the following weeks, murders kept happening. Noble men, young squires and pious servants all the same, poison spread in the palace like a disease. The king called to his side several food tasters to protect his life, and entrusted Prince Cassius with the responsibility of founding the killers, soon after the Master of Spies was put in chains for his incompetence. Cassius established trials and many men and women were brought forth to testify against the various murder accusation. When the Master of Spies was condemned to death after Cassius declared “If you cannot find who did this, then surely you are the one doing it!”, no loyalist to the king still stood for it was in his name that the execution was declared. The end of Cassius’ plot was near.
On a cold evening, Prince Cassius dined alone with the king who had gone mad (and his five food testers). The atmosphere was heavy and rain was pouring on the castle’s windows as the king silently drank his cup of wine. Standing on the threshold of the royal balcony, watching water slowly cascading on the edge of the tower, Cassius broke the heavy silence:
“My king, I am so sorry it was to be this way...”
Intrigued, the monarch put his cup down and frowned in the direction of his servant, perhaps the very last one he trusted. “What are you talking about Cassius? Does this have to do with the trials?”
“No my liege, it has to do with your life. I served you with more loyalty than anyone, but I have failed you.” The Prince sadly declared.
“Oh no, you haven’t” responded the king. “With an assassin that clever, and no traces or associates, finding whoever did this is no easy task…”
“But the thing is, I did find him your grace,” Cassius interrupted him. “Hidden in plain sight, he had used his wealth to gain enough power to overthrow you. But you are clever to your grace, for you surround yourself with people you trust. Unfortunately, he made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.”
With this phrase, the king threw his cup of wine on the ground and drew his sword. Behind him, the food taters all converged in a small corner in an attempt to hide themselves. Furious, the king advanced very close to Cassius, his blade on the prince’s throat.
“What did you do? WHAT DID YOU DO!?” he screamed. “I trusted you! You evil snake what did you do?!”
With a perfect calm and a tear falling on his left cheek, the prince answered: “I poisoned you wine. It is a slow poison, for the assassin couldn’t let you see your food tasters die. In less than an hour, you will be dead.”
The king pushed the prince away and retreated near the fire. Cassius looked down on the ground, rain pouring on his blond hair, and whispered to himself, but loud enough for the king to hear it; “No, it’s not worth it. All the gold in the world is not worth this…”. Reaching his pocket, he drew a small vial containing a dark olive liquid. He raised his hand pointing at the king and begged him to accept this antidote and his apology. Quickly seizing the bottle, the monarch drank it in a flash and asked: “So Cassius, who wanted to kill me?”
“Oh, I did your grace”
Any sign of sadness and regret had left the prince’s face, replaced by his old smirk and his icy tone. The king opened his eyes wide with anger once more, but a second later they were filled with fear. He grasped his chest while his respiration stopped, lost balance and fell on the ground. The prince crouched near the dying monarch while the poison stopped him from using his legendary powers, making an ironic sad face in the direction of his sovereign.
“Just to be clear,” Cassius slowly said, “I wasn’t really sorry for you.”
And on the ground of his very chambers, the king expired. Getting up again, Prince Cassius emerged on the balcony to contemplate his new kingdom. But fate wasn’t done with him.
Echoes started to be heard from the raging storm: “Evil snake… What did you do?... I trusted you…”. Growing louder and louder to the displease of the Prince, he couldn’t help but to put his hands on his ears; “Evil snake… Snake…”.
“Stop this!” he screamed in the night, but the echoes became all of what he could hear; “Snake… Snake… Snake…
”. He began to scream, but no sound could free him from the echoes. He closed his eyes, but when he opened them once more, his tan-gold skin had turned to an ashy bronze. His arms began to cover themselves in small silver scales and when he reached for his mirror, he realized his blond hair had turned white and with gold iris were now of a bright yellow. He dropped his mirror, which exploded on the stone ground into tiny little shards, and then the lightning struck. He lost balance and fell off the balcony, to his death…”
”. He began to scream, but no sound could free him from the echoes. He closed his eyes, but when he opened them once more, his tan-gold skin had turned to an ashy bronze. His arms began to cover themselves in small silver scales and when he reached for his mirror, he realized his blond hair had turned white and with gold iris were now of a bright yellow. He dropped his mirror, which exploded on the stone ground into tiny little shards, and then the lightning struck. He lost balance and fell off the balcony, to his death…”
The little girl was now watching her grand-mother with frightened eyes, with the rest of her face hidden in a pile of blankets. The old woman started laughing quietly from her side of the room, redirecting her attention to the dying fire. The little girl did not move, nor did she until her mother came to pick her up for bedtime. Looking down on her paralyzed child, she rolled her eyes and asked her mother: “What did you tell her this time?”
“Oh, just the story of Shnyessis” the grand-mother answered.
“Wow!” said the mother, “The God of Fear, what a great bedtime story!”
The old woman shrugged her shoulders as the mother left the room, her yellow eyes reflecting the small fire’s flames.
Date of Setting
157 to 161 ATC
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