King Olaf of Kenilworth

The Ship sailed slowly towards the island, piercing through the sound of the calm seas. The moon shone on the deck in full glory, with tranquil splendor that would shame the best cinematographic scenes from the original James Francis Cameron's Titanic film. One could have sworn that the rushing breezes whispered the words so gracefully sung by the powerful soprano of the most acclaimed female singer who can effortlessly slide from whispers into F-natural so effortlessly.

"Far across the distance,
And spaces between us,
You have come to show you, go on..."

Such was the blanket of blissful serenity that encompassed the vastness of the oceans. The time, however, was before the time of the 882 ft long Ship whose closest competitor to the throne was simply half her size, graced her belly in the oceans. This ship carried King Olaf of Kenilworth. King Olaf was sailing from the east, returning from his holy pilgrimage to the remoteness of Arabia.

Standing by the railing, staring in to the moon, King Olaf smelled the scent of the ocean, drinking in the beauty of his immediate vicinity. Unbeknownst to him, the storm in Kenilworth that has grown to epic proportions. King Olaf's most trusted confidante and his right hand man has turned against him. If the ocean laid in the vastness of the horizon in front of the king was the calmest of the seas, the storm on the tiny dot of land that he called home was the eye of Storm Cuba. Such is the ferocity of the viciousness that would greet King Olaf upon his return from the sacred pilgrimage.

Prince Olaf, before his crowning, was a simple boy whose ties to the Southern Hemisphere was evident in abundance. Queen of Kenilworth too was a simple soul, born and bred in the tiny island of Maradua, about 336 miles south of Kenilworth. She and her family fled towards the North, to escape an outbreak of flu in the South that claimed the lives of almost the entire population of the tiny island. The Queen, however, cherished the simple life she had before her marriage to royalty. She wished her son, Prince Olaf, the same. She taught the little prince to be humane, to be compassionate, to forgive and to love. She showered her son, the little Prince Olaf, with Southern Wisdom taught and nurtured over centuries of exposure to remote civilizations of Arabian and African Peninsulas through sailors, traders and nomads of the Arabian Seas. Prince Olaf dreamed a dream for his people to be ruled in just, to be compassionate. Kenilworth knew no such things. The North, reigned by Kenilworth, was led by the elders indulging in colored, shady businesses. Intelligence, Compassion, Forgiveness, Love are words that became common long after the time of King Olaf.

Prince Olaf, now the king of the Throne of Kenilworth, often misplaced his trust. The foxes and vultures of the Kingdom waited for the right moment to strike. King Olaf's decision to sail East for the sacred pilgrimage was the fat chance they were looking for. And how they rode the free ride that fell on their laps! On the night King Olaf set his sails, the Foxes and Vultures of the North, led by the well placed Hyena, went for the kill and grabbed the throne while iron was still hot.

King Olaf, in his naivety and innocence, watched the small boat approaching his ship with enthusiasm and excitement. The journey took him to a far away land, far away from his people. He did not have the luxury of the twitter, facebook, viber, whatsapp or snapchat to know what was happening in Kenilworth. Those came much later. The small boat came and anchored alongside King Olaf's Ship. His right-hand man, the Hyena, smiled and bowed to him. The invitation was overwhelming. He climbed down the smaller boat and hugged the Hyena. The small boat started it's journey towards Kenilworth. Little did King Olaf know that it would be his last few moments alive.

The death was slow. It was excruciatingly slow. The weight of the rocks that pulled him down took ages to reach the bottom of the ocean. The water crushed King Olaf from all sides, his air supply running out, his body twisting in vain to find any leverage inside the liquid prison. The blood pounded behind his eyes and King Olaf felt a thousand needles being plunged in to his lungs and heart all at once. King Olaf finally resigned to his fate, as he no longer possessed the will to fight, the will to live. All he had was a final prayer, as the black blanket of death squeezed the life out of his otherwise healthy and strong body. A sudden calmness swapped over him as he gave in to the darkness and let the water take him. The ocean had swallowed him.