The Sovereign's Weapon

• Maria Alkhouri, Grade 8, O'Connor Catholic College
• Short Story
• 2015

Excellence Award in the 'The Write Track 2015' competition

The Society for the Unity of the Sovereigns was held in a masculine, ashen castle behind towering gates. Professor Doman paced around the head office as his stomach dithered. Sitting in a grand chair with detailed carvings in his magniloquent office sat Sir Morice Sadian, the head sovereign.
“Sir, you must understand”, said Professor Doman between shaking breaths. “I brewed the Malumenim in my own office, with my most skilled scholars and brewers within the Society. There wasn’t a single careless witness whilst making sure it was flawlessly mastered.”
“Doman, I trust you know far more about Malumenim than I do. May you please explain to me how Erasia Prison would possibly have had this sort of outbreak with its notable flawlessness?” Sir Morice Sadian’s body stiffened under heavy robes and his sapphire eyes were pinned onto Doman’s.
“You see, Sir, the whole point of Malumenim is to numb one’s soul so that they are empty of any emotion, that if you drank it or inhaled it’s vapor, you’d be the equivalent of a walking corpse with its soul left to lay in its grave.” Doman’s sweat began to trickle down his temples. “This was made so that those held in Erasia wouldn’t have any desire to try and break out. Or any desire to really do anything at all. That’s just the basis of its complexity. You see, we strategically placed the cauldrons under the floorboards of each cell over flames so that its vapor seeped through the gaps, to then be inhaled unknowingly by the prisoners.” Malumenim truly was the foulest yet most fascinating example of witchcraft to exist.
Sir Morice Sadian’s eyes twinkled with curiosity, as a child would at the mention of the universe’s unfathomable expansions. “So, what would you suggest would create a fault in this system?” Sadian’s voice was slow and harmonious, as Doman marveled at his lack of alarm.
“That’s what’s most worrying and yet intriguing, Sir. Malumenim is so strong that the only way it can be overpowered is if its resistance is infused or poured into it.”
There was another ominous pause at Sadian’s side of the Head Soveriegn’s desk. He then spoke in a strained whisper. “And, the resistance is?”
Worry grew fast on Doman’s forehead. “Sir”, he said, his voice breaking, “if I had known what the resistance was, I’d be most willing to offer it. That is, if it had been known to ever exist.”
“I see. Have a beverage, Doman, as I trust this will calm you down”, Sadian pushed a generously filled wineglass forward. Doman had taken it without question. As he drank, suddenly his eyes began to drain into a carbon black as the merciless Malumenim had withdrawn his soul. Sadian leaned forward with thrilling satisfaction and said with a grin, “Professor Doman, your own flaw has always been your tendency to never question the curious acts of those at higher authority.”

Sir Morice Sadian had finally taken advantage of his most loyal companion.