The Chronicles of Chill: Inner Bah Yor & the Handling Hand of the King

Hand.jpeg

In the second year of the first quadranium of King Gambrach, there was unrest in the land for the King had not been seen at successive meetings of his council. The people clamoured to behold their king and hear his soothing voice as he spoke to them yet again about his holy quest to rid the land of evil.

Unbeknownst to them, the King had embarked upon a very awesomely secret and mysterious mission, one whose secrecy was only exceeded in awesomeness by its mystery, and only a select few of his council knew whither he went. Lo, the mission was not even revealed to the chronicler and far be it from the Chronicler to accuse the revealing spirit of the Tword of unknowing.

“Where art thou, O Gambrach”, the people cried. “Speak to us, for the camp of your enemies whispereth that thou art ill.”

“Ye fear too much” said Lar Yi, the King’s councillor for propaganda. “For though the king be a septuagenarian, behold he is the septiest septuagenarian that ever was. Fear not, for he only worketh from home.”

And the people were confused. For Bedrock was the King’s home and the place from where he had always worked.

“Hath he moved to a different castle or palace?” the people asked. “Hath he another official residence? Thy explanation maketh no sense to us. Give us our king!”

Lar Yi cast an anxious glance at FemCallamitus. FemCallamitus looked nervously over his shoulder to see if Gar Bar was in their midst and knew what to say. But Gar Bar was nowhere to be found. It seemeth that he had accompanied the King on the mission most mysterious and secret.

“Look”, began FemCallamitus, “the King only followeth the orders of the meisters and yea, is he chillaxing, that his spirit and body may be renewed unto thy service.”

“But thou informest us previously that his fitness was fiddlistic. Didst thou declare unto us a falsehood?”

“No, twas true!” Lar Yi had come to FemCallamitus’s rescue. “The King taketh things easy, that he might convalesce.”

And the people looked at each other in befuddlement. “Thou confusest us big time, dude.” they said to Lar Yi. “Doth he work from his chambers or another palace or doth he convalesce?”

“Oh, look at that purple moonlight” exclaimed Lar Yi suddenly, pointing to the sky. And the people followed his gaze to see the purple moon. But behold, the moon was white and when they turned back to ask what he meant, both Lar Yi and FemCallamitus were gone. Twas a gbelonic-gbebonic scam.

Whilst the people stood perplexed in their confusion, the scribes of the Parafin lamps came into their midst with scrolls for all to read. When the seals on the scrolls were broken, they were seen to be the chronicles of electoralis federalis through which Gambrach ascendeth to the throne after the quadranium of Gejoshaphat. And the people turned to the Chronicler and asked, “are these thy chronicles?” But lo, they were the chronicles of Gun Yi, who had served the late King Yaraz as Head Scribe.

And Gejoshaphath emerged from the shadows to denounce all that was chronicled of him and his beloved PeiPei in the scroll of Gun Yi. And yea, was there unchill as sleeping memories of electoralis were revived in all their bitter glory. But the King still spake not to the people.

Finally, on the day of Templing, King Gambrach returned from his secret mission and walked into the temple. Behold, the Lovengers were thrown into a revelling of ecstasy proclaiming, “Behold the king! See how he walketh briskly!” And so, was that day proclaimed the Day of Bobriskly.

And yet the King spake not to the people, muttering only the words “Inner Bah Yor”. “Hearest thou, thy king? He speaketh! Oh, he speaketh!” cried the Lovengers.

“What is ‘Inner Bah Yor’?” the people asked. “Is it a mystery of esoteric profundity? And by the way, where is the Moborius, favoured engraver and painter of the King? Twould have been great for him to record this moment for posterity!” But no one knew what Gambrach meant by inner Bay Yor, and no one knew the whereabouts of Moborius, though twas said that he was seen in faraway land, partaking in the new equestrian combat sport of freelancing, not to be mistaken with what the knights of the realm did.

And then word came to the people from senatii that a royal scroll had been delivered to Abushola and Gah-Ra, warden and prefect. “Tis a letter from the King”, Abushola declared. “I shall read it. It says, ‘Shooperoo and Warridoo, how’s it hanging, hombres? Just a line to bring to your attention that the Jandinian meisters have summoned me again and lo, I must depart. I know not the hour or day of my return, so do not ask me.  I’ll tell you all about it when I see you again. Dooo doo dooo dooo dooo…when I see thee again. In the meantime, Osinoshin, my loyal Hand, whom thou knowest, shall handle the kingdom until I return. I know that ye wouldest find this pun funny, so ha ha ha. Peace out.”

Yea, did the breeze of unchill begin to percolate in the land. For it echoed the days of Yaraz and his journeys to the meisters in Sah Oud.

Then one of the senateens asked Abushola, “Oh Warden of the senatii and most excellent reader of the royal scroll! Pray, did the King say Oshinoshin would be Pretend King again or just a handler? If he saith only that the Hand would handle, not that he wouldst be Pretend King, we have a crisis most severe.”

Crisis, crisis, crisis!!! The cry went out of their chamber. And the unchill began to swirl. And yea, it took all the deftness that Abushola could muster to quell it. “The law of the land is clear! For as long as the king liveth yet visiteth the meisters, his Hand is Pretend King!”

“But his scroll…”

“Ignore the scroll, punks!”

And there was an easy unchill. Until news reached the people of yet another feast of savoury celebritine, as the daughter of Ban Gi Dah was wed to her betrothed. Yea, did all the private flying chariots in the land assemble at the castle of Ban Gi Dah. And lo, seated and feasting as brothers were Shiwajun, Gejoshaphat, Abushola, Shegolas and Ban Gi Dah – kings and lords for whom the Twilistines and Social Medianites and Digital Perusites had warred against themselves in electoralis. Smiling one to another at the same gaddem table!

The realisation hit the people that Apicuria and Padipalia were mere constructs in the mind of the hoi polloi. The hoi aristoi were one. And there was no gaddem chill in the entire kingdom!

Advertisements

One thought on “The Chronicles of Chill: Inner Bah Yor & the Handling Hand of the King

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s