Plaque

At the fringes of the town, a modest wooden house stood, isolated yet tranquil, nestled in the embrace of a cluster of spruce trees. The sun had just peeked over the horizon, its rays filtering through the leaves and casting dappled shadows on the ground. Amidst the chorus of birdsong, joyful voices emanated from the house.

Inside, Estaben, his wife, and their three daughters, Chloe (16), Sophia (15), and Chara (14), sat around a table, breakfasting and exchanging conversation.

As they chatted and laughed, the familial warmth that filled the air was a stark contrast to the harsh reality beyond their home. The plague had descended on the kingdom, ravaging the populace, and Estaben, a skilled healer, had been spending every waking moment tending to the sick and the dying. Yet, this brief moment of respite with his family was all he had to look forward to each day, and he cherished it deeply. He glanced out of the large window beside him, taking in the early morning light, and with a heavy heart, he stood up, letting out a short sigh. He quickly bit into a large piece of bread and took a sip of milk from a wooden cup.

"I must be going. Lives depend on me, and I cannot afford to be idle," he said, his voice tinged with resignation.

"Already? I hope things return to normal soon," Helen replied, standing to see him off at the door.

"I'm sure they will,the most important thing is for you and the children to stay safe.

Please take care of them for me." He said as he stole glances at his daughters who were immersed in cheerful conversation. Helen smiled and nodded. "Don't worry, I'm their mother after all,aren't I? I'll make sure they're safe."

With that, Estaben left the comfort of his home and made his way into the harsh reality of the day. As he disappeared into the distance, Helen called out, "Have an awesome day at work!" Estaben turned and waved in acknowledgement, his smile bittersweet as he left his family behind.

As He walked through the bustling streets, the morning sun shone high in the sky, casting its light over the town.The buildings, predominantly constructed from stone and topped with iron-red roofs, stood in stark contrast to the chaos of the day. The town's inhabitants were in full swing, going about their business with vigor and purpose. At a corner, Estaben noticed a man clad in a large white robe.

"Thou evil person! Thou must repent for thine misdeeds, for the day of the Lord's punishment is nigh. Pray that thou may be forgiven and receiveth the Lord's mercy!" The man cried out to the bustling crowd, his voice carrying above the din of the town.He then added, "If you understand throw here some coins!" At his feet there was an open wooden box with two copper coins placed some distances from each other.

Estaben, with a slight shake of his head and a silent "huh," walked past him, averting his gaze to avoid any form of engagement.

After a few minutes of walking, he arrived at his infirmary, a modest building nestled amongst the others, its only distinguishing feature being its wide, vertically-split wooden doors. As he approached, he noticed a young man standing by the entrance, fidgeting and casting nervous glances around him.

"Good morning, sir!" the young man stammered as Estaben stopped.

"Bright and early," Estaben replied, unfazed by the man's restlessness. "How many patients have arrived so far?"

"Eleven patients have been brought in so far," the young man replied, "but there is a girl... she's in a dire situation."

Estaben took a deep breath, steadying himself. He had seen many patients in the past weeks, but each new case was still daunting. "Is she in the infirmary now?" he asked, his voice calm but tinged with concern.

"Yes, yes, she's inside," the young man confirmed, motioning towards the open door.

Estaben's instincts pulled him forward, desperate to aid the ailing girl, but his shoulders tensed as a powerful grip took hold of his right shoulder.

"Hey wait! His Majesty's son needs your service right now, follow me!" boomed a voice, deep and commanding. Estaben turned to find one of the castle servants, flanked by two others, their eyes trained on him like a pack of lions eyeing their prey.

"His majesty?" Estaben asked.

"Don't ask stupid questions! " the servant snapped, his voice harsh and loud.

"There is only one king in Delphi, and he has summoned you!" the servant growled, grabbing Estaben by the arm trying to steer him away from the infirmary.

"Are you asking me to abandon a patient?"

"Leave your bleeding heart at home!" The servant spat back. "His Majesty's command is law!"

The two servants behind the first closed in, forming a tight circle around Estaben. The scene became increasingly conspicuous, drawing the attention of the townspeople.

"You would be wise not to force me," Estaben warned, his voice firm and resolute. "I may be coerced into going to the castle, but if I refuse to treat the prince, you will face the king's wrath as well."

The lead servant, caught off guard by Estaben's audacity, released his grip and took a step back. His face contorted into a grimace of frustration.

"I have a life to save, and you are delaying me," Estaben continued, his voice low but firm. "Your skills may be useful to the king, but mine are needed here. If you wish to fulfill your duty to him, you must have patience until I have finished mine."

The servants exchanged nervous glances, unable to decide on a course of action. After a few tense moments, the leader of the trio sighed and spoke.

"Just hurry up! "

Estaben ignored them and stepped past the threshold, into the dimly lit interior of the infirmary.The young man followed behind closely. All that time he was watching from the side lines.The room was filled with a symphony of coughs and groans, and the air was heavy with the scent of sickness. At a corner, the young girl lay convulsing in agony, her screams echoing off the walls. Estaben rushed to her side, his eyes scanning her condition with practiced precision. He observed the distended veins, labored breathing, and the blood seeping from her lips.

With swift movements, he retrieved a lancet from his medical bag and delicately pierced her skin, allowing the diseased blood to drain. He then applied a poultice of herbs and ointment to her chest, hoping to draw out the fever and restore her health. Slowly, the girl's condition began to improve. The swelling in her veins subsided, her breathing steadied, and the bleeding from her mouth ceased. Her eyes fluttered open, blinking against the light, and she looked around, confused but alive.

"I must go to the castle now," Estaben said to the young man, standing and retrieving his medical bag. "The others will be fine in your care, as they are not as dire. Take good care of them."

"Yes, sir," the young man replied, nodding as he departed from the infirmary.

As Estaben and the servants approached the castle gates, the colossal structure loomed before them, its walls a testament to the might and dominance of the kingdom. Guards clad in armor stood at strategic positions, their vigilance a stark reminder of the power that dwelt within.

As they entered, the castle gardens blossomed with life, a mesmerizing display of color and fragrance. At the center of this beauty stood a fountain, water gushing from the mouth of a marble statue of King Apollo Antiochus. His stance was proud, his sword drawn and ready, a warning to any who dared challenge his reign.

Inside the castle, the servants departed, leaving Estaben to be guided by a maid towards the room where the prince lay. She opened the door with care, ushering him in before closing it and leaving him alone in the chamber.

Before Estaben stood a woman with a regal air. She had a cascade of dark hair, a crown upon her head, and a hand covering her mouth. Her eyes were wide, her gaze fixed on the bed where her ten-year-old son writhed in agony. Queen Arabella Antiochus of Delphis stood before him, her heart gripped with fear and terror.

In the stillness of the room, her silence was deafening as Estaben moved to examine her son. The boy's veins bulged, his breathing was ragged, and his eyes rolled back in his head as he convulsed on the bed, his clothes drenched in blood. Estaben swiftly pulled out a lancet, determined to administer the same treatment as he had with the girl, but the boy's condition was beyond salvation. As he pressed his ear to the prince's chest, he could feel the frantic beating of a failing heart. Praying for a miracle, he watched in silence as the boy's hands clutched at the air. But there was no stopping the inevitable. The prince's body stilled, his eyes staring into the nothingness beyond.

The queen, still unaware of the tragic turn of events, approached Estaben with a glint of desperation in her eye. "Why are you just standing there? Do something!" she hissed, her voice laced with urgency.

Estaben, his hands trembling, reached out to close the prince's eyelids. In that moment, he felt the weight of failure crashing down upon him, the breath catching in his throat.

As he turned away, the queen finally understood the truth of what had transpired. Her gaze hardened, her face twisted into a mask of fury. Without a moment's hesitation, she grasped Estaben by the collar, pulling him toward her with a viciousness that sent a chill down his spine.

"You dare to disappoint me?" she spat, her voice seething with malice, her grip unrelenting on Estaben's collar.She was about to unleash her fury when a series of heavy knocks sounded at the door. Before either could react, the door swung open, revealing a towering figure garbed in the rich attire of a king. It was King Apollo Antiochus himself.

"What are you doing, Arabella?" the king asked, his voice holding a steady calm that seemed to cut through the queen's rage.

"This quack doctor has killed our son!" the queen raged, pointing a trembling finger at Estaben.The king's eyes turned to Estaben, assessing him in a single, piercing gaze. "The boy is dead?" The King asked, his voice unshaken.

"How can you be so calm?!" the queen shrieked, her rage turning to disbelief. "This man needs to be beheaded!"She screamed,her grip tightening on Estaben's collar.

"Calm down now, you should act in a manner that befits the queen," the king said, his voice measured and calm. "Don't let anger cloud your judgment. Now let him go, I would like to talk to him."

The queen ignored his command, continuing to hold onto Estaben's shirt with a white-knuckled grip.The king's face darkened, and he repeated himself, his voice hardening: "Let him go, I said. "For a moment, it seemed as though the queen would defy her husband's command, but then, with a visible effort, she loosened her grip on Estaben's collar and stepped back. Estaben straightened his shirt, his face a mask of stoicism and resignation.

"Thank you, my dear," the king said, his eyes still fixed on Estaben. "Now, if you would excuse us..."

Estaben,composed, followed behind, clutching his medical bag. They emerged from the castle, and the world outside seemed to shudder under the weight of the dark clouds gathering overhead.They cast a gloom over the kingdom of Delphis, as though they too grieved for the fallen prince. The opulent landscape, once a testament to the kingdom's might, now seemed to whisper of a kingdom in mourning.

The king, leading Estaben through the gardens, suddenly paused. "Wait here," he said, his voice carrying the weight of command. As Estaben waited, the minutes stretched into an eternity. The sky continued to darken, the air heavy with the promise of rain. Estaben's thoughts swirled, consumed by doubts and fears.

Had he made the wrong choice in tending to the sick girl first? Had he failed the prince, failed the kingdom? The price of a healer's mistake was often the life of another.

The king returned, his face unreadable. The silence between them was palpable as he motioned for Estaben to follow, leading him to an open structure, decorated with marble and lush greenery, a private garden for tea and conversation. "Please take a seat. Let's have some tea as we talk about our beautiful Kingdom," the king said, his tone offering a respite from the grief of the palace. Estaben took his seat, unable to refuse the offer. The situation was both uncomfortable and ominous, but he was in no position to turn down the king's hospitality. "What do you think of my rule?" the king asked, his gaze locked on Estaben's face."What kind of question is that?" Estaben replied, taken aback by the sudden change of subject. "Your son has just died. Is this really the time for that?"

The king's expression remained unfazed. "He's already dead. Unless you can resurrect him, I don't see the harm in discussing my rule." His tone was challenging, his gaze unwavering.

Estaben, seeing no alternative, answered, "I should say your citizens respect and fear you."

"And what about you?" the king pressed. "Do you include yourself in that estimation?" Estaben held the king's gaze, unflinching in his response. "It's your choice to include or exclude me, Your Majesty."

The king remained silent for a moment, considering his words. "Why did you take your sweet time getting to the castle? My son is now dead because you were late." The accusation hit Estaben like a hammer, the weight of guilt settling in his stomach.

The king's tone turned sharp, his eyes piercing into Estaben's very soul. Guilt washed over Estaben as he struggled for a defense, his mind whirling with excuses.The silence hung heavy in the air for what felt like an eternity. At last, the king spoke. "If you have nothing to say to me, you can leave." With a dismissive wave, he added, "When you arrive home, greet your wife and three daughters for me."

Estaben froze. The knowledge of his family's existence sent a chill up his spine. "How do you know about my family?" he demanded, his voice quivering.

The king's smile twisted into a malevolent smirk. "I am the king of Delphis, of course!Don't underestimate me, commoner!" the king bellowed, looming over Estaben with his imposing frame. The menace in his voice was palpable, his words dripping with venom. "I know everything about my kingdom and its people, from the lowliest peasant to the highest noble. And you, Estaben, are just a lowly physician who failed to save my son!"

Estaben, his heart pounding in his chest, ran through the palace gardens like a man possessed. The guards, sensing his urgency, attempted to block his path, but with a surge of adrenaline, he plowed through their ranks and continued his frantic escape.The crowded streets became a blur as he sprinted through them, pushing anyone who stood in his way. His lungs burned, his legs trembled, but he ran on, driven by fear and desperation.The first drop of rain fell as a warning of the storm to come.