The King of Color
The king of black walked up the white marble stairwell that led to his friend’s solar. His footsteps echoed up and down the hall, which did nothing to make him feel any less nervous. What could he want with me? thought the king of black. His friend, the king of white, had sent a messenger summoning him to the realm of white. Not used to summons from his friend, the king of black had left his country the day of, and rode with all speed to the king of white’s palace. Now that he was here, he was both eager and nervous to hear what his friend had to say. The king of white was a dutiful man, and his kingdom was vast. He was not one to waste his time idly catching up with old friends.
The king of black reached the top of the stairwell and knocked on the ornate door that led to his friend’s room. “You may enter,” the king of white called out from inside his room. The king of black opened the door and walked inside. The room was austere. There was a couch next to a fire place, and a small bed rested in the corner. You would never guess that the room belonged to a king. He saw his friend standing by the window, looking out with an intent expression on his face. He seemed focused and tight. His shoulders were drawn up and un-relaxed, while his arms clutched the sill, completely straight and stiff.
“Hello Irvin,” the king of black said quietly.
“Luther,” the king of white said warmly, turning from the window. His shoulders relaxed and he walked over to give his friend a hug. When they broke apart, Irvin looked Luther up and down. “You look tired. Was there trouble on the road?”
“No, it’s just been a long journey,” Luther replied. “You seem to forget how far apart our kingdoms are.”
Irvin nodded. “I don’t forget, I just wish it weren’t so. I appreciate you coming so quickly. I need your help.”
“Straight to business then.”
“I imagine you’re curious.”
“Very. I’ve had nothing but my thoughts to accompany me the last few days.”
“Then I will be straight with you, and try not to dance around the subject too much.”
“I appreciate it. What do you need?”
Irvin hesitated for a moment. “I want to unite the kingdoms.”
Luther frowned “Unite them? How do you mean?”
Irvin walked back over to the window. “I want to bring all the colors together under one crown.”
Luther shook his head, confused. “What for? The countries have always been separate.”
“Yes, but together as one nation we could be so much stronger; we could accomplish so much more.”
“You mean to bring all the countries under your rule. It sounds like a ploy for power. This isn’t like you Irvin.”
“It’s not a ploy for power. You and I would lead the countries together. We have always done what was right for our kingdoms. We would just be spreading our success to the other realms.”
Luther let the information sink in. His friend had always been ambitious, but this was different. “Why do you want this?”
“It is not out of greed. I know that is what many will think, but I assure you my motives are pure.”
“That’s not an answer.”
Irvin looked down and sighed. “White contains all other colors, Luther. I feel that it is my destiny to unify the countries. I feel that I can build a world with no war; a world of peace.”
“The country you speak of would be built upon the foundation of war. How can an empire be at peace when it is created with bloodshed and pain?”
“That is why I need your help. Our kingdoms united would be larger than all the other countries put together! They could never stand up to us. They would surrender, and the war would be over before it started.”
“The kingdoms are apart for a reason. You would stain the land white with your rule. It would be a bleak nation, of one color. I will not support you in this, and I do not want to hear more of it.”
“Please Luther, for our friendship's sake. If you could only see my vision.”
“You cannot count on my help, Irvin. I’m sorry.”
The king of white looked at Luther coldly. “Then our friendship is over. You are blinded by the darkness of your own kingdom. Leave me. Leave my country!”
Luther turned and left his friend’s room without a word. The echo of his footsteps hammered into his ears, as he walked down the stairs. The king of black left the palace and mounted his horse. He rode hard for his home. With each mile, he grew more and more disturbed by his meeting with the king of white. What would drive him to such thoughts? The realms thrived on their differences. They were unique and diverse. It was part of what made the world so beautiful. They had fought in the past and would fight in the future. But that was the price for individuality.
Luther returned to his kingdom, and ruled for many years. For the first year, he had his ear to the ground, listening for any sign that Irvin had gone forward with his plans. But after hearing nothing he began to relax. When it was clear that the king of white had given up on his dream, Luther began to miss the company of his friend. They had been close. Opposites, but friends. The king of black decided to take a trip to the country of white, hoping to make amends with Irvin.
He rode his horse through the countries, admiring their colors as he passed through each one. But when he reached the border of green and red, he saw something troubling. He pulled back on the reins of his horse and dismounted. Bending down, he picked a rose. Its petals were faded. Instead of a bright red the petals were a light pink. In the kingdom of red, roses were always a vibrant scarlet, but this one looked almost white. Luther pricked his thumb on one of the thorns, and a trickle of blood ran down his hand. His blood held only the barest hint of red. Luther ran over to a tree and picked an apple. Apples were usually so deep in color you felt warm just looking at them, but this one looked faded and cold. What Luther saw when he looked around, horrified him. All the reds were faded. Flowers, birds, ladybugs, all of them looked pale. He frantically searched for something that was a true red. But everything looked washed-out, as if it had been bleached. The influence of the king of white had stained this land. Irvin went ahead with his plans, thought Luther. And he did it right under my nose.
What other kingdoms have been taken? How far does Irvin’s hand go? I have to stop him, but what can I do? He was no killer, and Irvin was his friend. Luther's heart sank when he realized what he had to do. But he could see no other solution. The king of black took a deep breath, and rose from the stump. Mounting his horse, he rode towards the kingdom of white with a new purpose. Luther looked around at the world, taking everything in for the last time.
Once again, the king of black found himself walking up the white marble staircase. In his hand was a bottle of brandy, which he clutched fiercely, as if he was afraid of it. His echoing steps now seemed so far away. He knocked on the door of Irvin’s solar. “Enter,” said Irvin. Luther thought he heard a certain tone of command in his friend’s voice, that he did not recognize. With an apprehensive hand, Luther opened the door. Irvin’s rooms were more lavish than they had been last time he visited. The walls were no longer bare, and Irvin’s normally sparse room was now draped in fine silks. “Luther!” the king of white said surprised. “I was not expecting you.”
“I came to apologize.”
“Apologize?”
“Yes. I let the argument we had come between our friendship. I have missed talking with you. I was wrong to reject your plan so rashly. I still do not agree with you, but I now understand that your motives were impersonal and you wanted to do what you thought was right.”
The corner of Irvin’s mouth tilted up in a small smile. “I missed you too. But I don’t suppose I will ever persuade you to help me.” Luther shook his head. “Then I expect my plans will never be.” Luther shook his head again. Irvin looked down sadly. “I would have loved to rule this world with you. We could have made it…great.”
“The world is already great. One has to only to walk around the kingdoms to see it.”
Irvin nodded and said, “If it was not meant to be, I won’t push the matter. And we can once again be friends.”
“Nothing would make me happier.” Luther watched Irvin’s eyes as he said this. There was guilt there and sadness. The king of white still planned to proceed with his conquest. The knowledge made Luther’s heart feel even heavier.
“Did you pass through the red kingdom?” asked Irvin.
“No I went through purple. Why do you ask?” He said, knowing the answer to the question.
The king of white faltered for a second then said, “I was hoping you picked up some wine on your way here. I’m getting sick of white wine, it seems to be the only thing we have to drink around here.”
Luther put on a false smile. “I may have something to remedy that.” He showed Irvin the bottle of brandy. “Strongest brandy in the kingdom of black. I thought we could toast our renewed friendship.” Luther opened a cupboard and pulled out two glasses then poured each of them a healthy amount of the brandy. He picked one up and handed the other to Irvin. The king of white looked suspicious, but Luther pretended not to notice. Luther held his glass up “To black and white and all the other colors of the spectrum.”
“To black and white,” echoed Irvin. He watched as Luther took a drink before he brought the glass to his lips. When they finished drinking, they both pursed their lips, then descended into coughing fits “You weren’t joking when you said-“ Irvin coughed again and Luther patted his back “-when you said this was strong.”
“You’re just used to white wine,” laughed Luther. He poured them both another glass.
“Another one?” The king of white said, Incredulous.
“The more you drink the easier it gets. And an occasion like this deserves getting properly drunk.”
“Hah, I see you haven’t changed.”
The two of them drank well into the evening. After a few hours, the bottle was gone and the two drunk kings could hardly stand. They retired to two chairs next to Irvin’s fireplace. Luther’s vision started to blur, and he knew the brandy was working.
“Luther? I can’t see anything,” said the king of white. “Can you tell me if my eyes are open because all I see is dark.”
“You’re going blind,” said Luther. “And so am I.”
“I’m not going blind. Don’t be so dramatic, there’s just something wrong with my vision. Maybe I’m blacking out.”
“You’re going blind Irvin. I put wood alcohol in the brandy, it causes blindness.”
“What?! Why would you do that!?” shouted Irvin. He stood up and bumped into the table were their glasses rested.
Luther leaned back into the chair and stared up towards the ceiling. His vision faded into complete darkness. “I saw what you did to the country of red. You did not listen to me. You went behind my back, and invaded the red kingdom.”
“It’s my purpose! I am to unite the colors, so we can have peace.”
“You were going to destroy color. But now you never will. There cannot be a blind king. There never has been, and there never will be.”
Irvin grabbed one of the glasses and flung it toward Luther. He missed, and the glass crashed against the wall. “Damn you! I will not have my country stolen from me. This changes nothing; I will still be the king of colors. You failed Luther, you gave up your sight for nothing.”
“I gave up my sight to protect what I believe in. I am sad that I will never see color again, but I know enough that if I don’t move on, I will never again be happy. Because I will never have what I hold most dear. You want to see the world united by the color white, but you will never see it. If you do not give up this foolish dream of yours, you will live the rest of your life angry and restless.”
“Guards!” Irvin called out, and several knights stormed into the room. “Take this man away, I want him to live the rest of his life in a cell.” Without a word the guards seized Luther from the couch and dragged him from the room. He did not fight, he just closed his eyes.
The blind king of white kicked the chairs over and screamed in rage. He shattered his window, and tore down the drapery that adorned his room. He spent a long-time shouting, and cursing Luther’s name. Then finally he felt his way to a chair, and stood it back up. He sat down, and began to cry. He would never see the color white again, and that meant that he would never again be happy. It was during these dark thoughts that he came to a decision. Blind or no, he would fulfill his purpose, and become the king of color. They would call him the Blind King of Color, but he would rule the land all the same.