A weak, brittle voice floated out through the semi-darkness of the laboratory. "You weren't supposed to find out 'til afterwards." The blue-tinted chemicals in the animation tank bubbled gently in the background.
    "So I heard. Even so, it wasn't hard to guess, you know. We've all suspected that you've developed an addiction to the chemicals involved in the process."
    Eyeing the tank he was standing by, he replied, "True. Predictability comes with age, I suppose. The very fact that our system would pass a law of mandatory elimination after 47 years of age is foolish, but this is the way I want to leave the world."
    "We've argued over this before; the law keeps overpopulation from being a problem, you know that... The thing is... well, are you absolutely sure about this, Delmaron?"
    "Never been more certain, Natael. Please don't try to stop me."
    "Far from it. I've come to give you a hand since you're so determined."
    Blinking in surprise, Delmaron murmured his thanks as he lowered himself into the animation tank. Relaxing, he allowed the fine feathers covering his body to flutter outwards as each of his tired three eyes glowed in thanks at his childhood friend.
    "Any particular one in mind?" Natael asked softly.
    "Surprise me."
    "Very well. Goodbye, old friend. I will join you in another year." Smiling gently to conceal his heavy heart, Natael reached out a furry tentacle and tapped a code into the console facing the tank.
    "I'll be expecting you. Walk easy..."
    "...May the road rise to meet your feet."
    Delmaron closed his eyes as countless pinpoints of light swarmed into the tank and merged with him as one.

    He was floating, turning slowly in a void without light, or sound, or heat. The Void. Delmaron grunted at the familiar wrenching feeling as four figures frozen in time materialized around him. His rotation was abruptly stopped before an aging man with a dignified air and a tired, lined face. His garments were velvet and well-made, and a sparkling crown rested on his head. Reminds me of me, Delmaron thought moments before he was absorbed by the figure.

King Kael Pyralis, age 52
    Thirty-two years of ruling Azroth Kingdom. Just a tad too long and no male heir to pass my bloody crown to. Bloody 'ell.
    Sigh; if only Tala had survived the childbirth. Things would be so much better if she were still around, but at least I still have Arieka. Silly court affairs keep me busy, though, no time to spend with my own daughter. Too much of these so-called "important affairs" are nonsense.
    Arieka. A beautiful name; 'tis good that Tala named her after the legendary queen who dedicated her life to her people. Blessed Goddess high above, I can't believe it's been fifteen years since... she died.
    Harrumph! Focus now. I've dealt with the lords of the lower provinces, and they're calling in the next Azrothian requesting an audience... Elsbet? What in the Goddess's name is she doing here? Probably requesting more cleaning supplies or helpers. But that doesn't require a formal audience, and she wouldn't trouble me with trivialities here.
    "Elsbet, headmistress of the maids of this royal palace, I greet you. What need you now? Supplies or strong backs?"
    Oh beloved Goddess, the pain! I'm being ripped in two!

    The initial transformation had sapped Delmaron's strength, and he was back in the Void. Revolving in a suspended state again, of course. This time he stopped at a plump woman with rosy cheeks; he recognized the woman as Elsbet, the head maid.
    The joining was less painful this time.

Elsbet Cauthon, age 50
    Honestly, as if Kael would think I'd bother him with such foolishness in the grand hall. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all, but it's an important issue and it's too late to back out now. Pity, he looks worn out-but then again he always has, ever since his poor wife died. I feel his pain, but that's not what he wants to hear. I still have Mat, though, and he's as much of a relief as Arieka is for Kael. Ah, my dear son, Mat. Nearly eighteen and scrawny as always, no matter how much food I try to feed him. He's always been a particularly difficult one to discipline, and it's fitting that he applied to replace the court jester. His natural charm and wit should help him nicely, and he's got quite a knack to entertain the masses. Unfortunately, he's also a terrible influence on the princess's behavior.
    Ah, yes, that's why I came! Arieka is almost sixteen, and hasn't been betrothed! It's simply not politically correct, and it must be brought to the King's attention. Still, the kingdom's beginning to crumble, and this might not be a good time to add to his burden and heartache... But perhaps marrying the princess off will help ensure that the kingdom will soon have the guidance of a strong ruler once more.
    Oh dear, he's not taking my hint very well. Perhaps I should remind him about the multiple complaints by the palace servants about Mat and Arieka's pranks. It's too common, seeing that pair laughing gaily while dashing along corridors while being pursued by frustrated people trying to do their work. She simply must learn to control her impulsive behavior if she's ever going to be a good queen and live up to her name. The sooner that happens, the better. Gracious, perhaps I brought up betrothal too soon, but I think this might be a perfect opportunity to form an alliance with other lands... Hmm, better mention that to sweeten the suggestion.
    Hmph! How dare that hussy of a priestess interrupt me? Well, at least she's on my side, and Kael seems to be more accepting of the idea now.
    "But it is necessary, sire, and I see no other way!"
    Oh goodness, where'd this pain come from?!

    The switch back to a body Delmaron had already occupied was fairly easy and almost instantaneous.

Kael Pyralis
    A proclamation? Fascinating proposal. How does a contest sound, held outside the city walls at the old jousting field to award the hand of my free-spirited daughter to the bravest and boldest in the land? They must be insane! She's my daughter!
    This is the last thing I need! Arieka is the last thing I have! How can Elsbet ask me to give her up?
    But... good grief, she's right, though. She always is, especially when it comes to matters like these. Goddess, I have a pounding headache. Huh, listen to the whole bloody court sigh in relief. Where's the court scribe...
    "So let it be written; so let it be done."
    That pain again!

    Delmaron's eyes flickered in interest, wondering what was coming next. So tired, and his energy was draining fast. Must hurry. He seeped into the figure of a graceful young lady clothed in finely spun strands of golden silk.

Arieka Pyralis, age 15
    Marriage? Good grief! I still want to have fun. Forget the classes, I don't want to take on responsibility. Yet isn't it always that way? No matter what I want, there's a difference between what I'd like and what I need to do. The lands of Azroth are in an uproar for a new ruler because Father's barely fit for the job anymore... Sometimes I feel terrible because the crown he wears is most definitely heavier than others may think. The proclamations have gone out already, though, without giving me time to protest...
    Goddess, just looking out my window at all the people pouring into the city is purely dizzying. I hear that Azrothian lords of all noble classes have sent their most promising men, as have several foreign rulers. All the roads into the capital are packed with chariots, carts, and carriages of all kinds as these loyal subjects and diplomats enter our fair city in preparation to witness the historical occasion. Never have I known any event to draw such a large gathering of different people; men, women, and children of all builds, colors, and backgrounds are coming together to experience a glorious moment in history. The inns are booked and people are camping outside the walls... Blessed heaven, what a revelation! I guess this pride I'm feeling is what Father means about dedication to the little people...
    Sigh... I have enormous shoes to fill after Father passes on the crown to my future husband. Never mind the legendary name I have to live up to. I'd better take things one step at a time. And I suppose Father and dear Elsbet are right: it's time to grow up. Elsbet's still waiting for my answer about if I'm going to accept this...
    "Yes."
    As the fair princess rose from her perch at the window, she gasped at the feeling of being torn apart from within.

    Spinning, spinning so hard Delmaron felt as if he'd go mad. He was drunk with false euphoria, a side effect from being immersed in tank chemicals for long periods of time. His mind was slowing down, though, and he could feel the seconds remaining in his lifetime slipping by as he stopped facing a skinny boy with pale, freckled skin.

Matrim Cauthon, age 17
    What a nightmare. Maybe I should have told Arieka my secret before today.   Oh, who am I kidding? Like I'd tell Arieka that for the past few years I've become utterly besotted with her... And who wouldn't? She's blossomed into a spirited, beautiful, and clever young woman.
    What am I going to do? Come on, moron, think! I've worshipped her my entire life, and I'm about to lose her tomorrow to the next blockhead in shining armor riding in on a white horse-- Wait! That's it!
    Let's see, where's that bag of money I've been safekeeping... Here it is! Off to the blacksmith. Ah, there's Shashe, I hate to disturb him, but... Confound it! He won't make me a suit of armor! Well, one night is pretty short notice, and with all these people coming in, the business is probably increasing beyond their wildest dreams. Still, he didn't have to mock my build so cruelly! Mayhap my friend Darc can help me, he's apprentice to the Yardmaster, and has access to all sorts of equipment if I remember rightly.
    Good grief, he's probably going to mock my build, too. ...Hmm, guess not. It's kind of him to help me, though I can't afford to reveal my plans to him just yet. Next stop, stables. The Goddess must be behind me! This horse is absolutely beautiful, and comes with its gear, too. Expensive, but if this works out, it'll be perfect for the occasion. Seems to be in good health, so I might as well get it. Splurge a little this time around.
    Okay, now I've got everything... Goodness, this armor is quite a bit heavier than I expected.
    "Boy, help me put this on."
    Mat doubled over unexpectedly as waves of pain washed through him.

    Delmaron felt himself slipping away, and even though the obsession wasn't healthy, he needed to know how this simulation ended. He was no longer solid enough to join with any of the figures, and he was despairing until a gateway seemed to open before him. With the last ounce of his energy, he glided through.

    This was unheard of. Seeing a simulation through your own eyes? Yet there it was, the final scene laid out before him. The king was speaking.
    "My people! We are gathered here today to hold a contest to see who is the best man here today to claim my daughter's hand in marriage. The judging will be based on three performances, and will be made by my daughter, Princess Arieka." Cheers began to break out, but others quickly shushed them. "The first competition is a single-elimination jousting match. Please march out onto the field. May the best man win!"
    It was a long time before the cheers finally died down, but everyone was also placing bets as to who would come out as the winner in the competition. The mystery knight looked so imposing, many placed their money on him. Mat, however, was having difficulty controlling the horse. Thankfully it followed the other horses, for Mat had never ridden a horse before. Pair by pair, knights rode out and ran at each other until only one was left standing. The horse, irritating by a stinging bug, trotted forward to the assigned station. The armor was too heavy for Mat to move, so when his opponent, a man riding a black horse, rode at him, he was unable to do anything, and therefore met with a crushing defeat. His opponent, Prince Larkhon of Pesomatamia, won that round. Next was a free-for-all hand-to-hand combat session, where those who fell were required to stay down. The other knights were careful to avoid Mat, fearing that his inactivity meant that he was cautious and planning something extraordinary. In truth, Mat was trying his best to move the arm of the suit, with only sweat to show as the fruits of his efforts. At last, only he and Larkhon remained standing on the field, and Larkhon, after some initial cautions, confidently pushed him over.
    The crowd was very disappointed in the shabbiness of the mystery knight's performance-and then they were shocked as the force of hitting the ground broke the suit of armor apart, exposing Mat for who he was. Total silence ensued for five seconds before the crowd erupted in boisterous laughter. King Pyralis blinked and then grinned, as did his sons. Arieka smiled a little smile from her perch in the pavilion.
    Arieka conferred with her father briefly, then glided down to the field where the knights had lined up once again, with Mat standing awkwardly at the end of the line. Smiling at Mat, she said, "Attention! I have decided that the last competition will be a test of eloquence. I will go down the line, and I want each of you to give me a speech declaring the reasons why I should marry you and no other. Prince Larkhon, begin."
    Larkhon started into a moving speech declaring love, speaking of politics, and offering security. The crowd nodded appreciatively at the prince's speaking skills. Each of the other knights attempted to match or better the initial oration, but none did. Finally it was Mat's turn, and he was glum, knowing that he could not surpass Larkhon's speech. So he decided to give it an honest try by speaking from the heart.
    "Princess Arieka, I have known you for as long as I can remember. We have shared many good memories together, and many funny ones, too. I still recall you sharing the punishment by getting striped for stealing the palace cook's pies!" Some people gasped at the audacity of that statement; others cracked up at the idea. "I know how to make you laugh, my fair princess, and I would give anything to spend the rest of my life with you. I am no knight with strength and courage; I am only a court jester with wit and laughter to offer. But I love you, Princess Arieka, and I hope that is enough." He stopped.
    Some were crying at the honesty of his speech; others looked suspiciously teary-eyed. Arieka looked into his eyes for a very long time, then hugged him tightly, murmuring, "Oh, my dear, sweet buffoon..."
    Delmaron smiled. A pretty ending to die to: the nice guy wins the girl. Exhaling softly, he faded from the simulation, passing into the next world.
    Arieka turned and walked to the head of the line without a backwards glance and chose Larkhon. She had a legacy and a destiny to fulfill, both of which required her to keep the interests of her people close at hand. And although she felt a great love for Mat, her love for her people was now greater. The right thing to do this time hurt someone she cared for dearly, but the kingdom would self-destruct if she didn't choose a strong ruler.
    Despite her worries, Mat understood without needing anything to be said, and somberly accepted his defeat in her choice. And Mat lived out the rest of his life, which held no meaning for him anymore.
    The simulation ended.
    The glittering pinpoints of light faded away, leaving nothing behind of Delmaron's body, and leaving darkness to settle upon the dark, empty laboratory.

---

Deepest apologies to Robert Jordan, author of Wheel of Time series-- no copyright infringement was intended in my usage of the name Matrim Cauthon; I hold some particularly personal significance in the symbolism of this name.

Hosted by www.Geocities.ws