A Death Most Unnoble written by speareshake iii

Gethenian culture has been influenced greatly by the androgynous nature brought by Gethenians biology. This, of course, means stories, plays, songs, and everything that has to do with a society's identity show signs of this. One such example is shifgrethor, the abstract concept of prestige, one's honor, status, etc. Because the Gethenians do not have a permanent gender, they are not subject to the gender dualism of Terran society. The Investigators have found many stories, one story of which is written by a Gethenian author known as Speareshake III. This story is an interesting portrayal of the political landscape and the part shifgrethor plays in it on Gethen.

Act I

This humble story begins in rural Valkor, in a small village where winds swept fiercely and the snow poured like rain as it rested near the border between Pranla and Valkor. Carrying food, blankets, buckets, and more was a parentless child, destined to become king.

That lowly orphan's name is Hodek. For as long as he hath lived, he fought to survive. Not by violent means, no, but by being kind. It was because he had no parent that he, whether it be instinctively or by some hidden memory, strove to make others live better.

It was on a day where the sun peeked from the clouds. Asides from ceremonies where the keystone bonded by human blood and bones was set upon an archway by the king, the sun never gave its grace to the cold lands beneath it.

Hodek was washing an old man, whom he considered a father like the others who lived in the village. The old man was telling him stories Hodek was familiar with since years past. Stories of a young lass, hair as radiant as the sun, chasing her dreams. Stories of a man with hair as white as snow, just like his, creating a land of prosperity and joy. Stories of a king driven mad by those around him.

"Verily, sir Orbas. That king was foolish," said Hodek, going through the familiar, unconscious even, motions of wiping his father's back.

"Yes, lad! That king, oh how he wished to become even more! He was not satisfied with his throne and dared to rest upon two! Ah, if only he knew what crossing the Prana would do to him." the old man said, with an odd note in his voice when he mentioned the Prana. This was unusual to Hodek.

Yet, he knew there was much packed in that singular, off note. He didn't dare pry, simply continuing to wash the back of the old man.

Then, the door burst open. A figure emerged from it, the wind blowing its long hair. "Art thou Hodek, sire?" said the figure, a melodious voice carrying the question. Hodek stared at the figure, enamored by its beauty. His beauty.

"That would be me, yes." Hodek said timidly.

"Excellent. This lowly knight is Artor, meant to let thou know that thou art the prince of the king, sire," said the beautiful man, who suddenly knelt. "Please, prepare thy things and we shall depart for the palace once the trees have swayed twenty times."

A voice as loud as an avalanche erupted. "Hold on now lad!"

Artor and Hodek's ears perked up, searching for the source of the voice. It was Orbas.

"How do we know you ain't another one of those Prana scum, trying to bring more into their lands so that the Lords may have aid in their farms?" Orbas questioned. "Even worse, an assassin masquerading as a knight, seeking to kill royalty, if you ain't lying?"

The white-haired beauty sighed. "Ah yes, I hath forgotten. Here is the crest of the king, sir esquire." In his hand was a golden token, with a small ruby in the center.

The old man looked at Artor, more shocked at what he had just said than the token.

"You... knew...?"

The beauty smirked, a new expression to Hodek.

"Yes, and the king hopes you have been enjoying your... vacation." A dark expression flashed across Orbas' face, before he closed his eyes and pushed Hodek towards Artor.

"I'll let the others know, lad. Please, remember the stories. And... don't lose yourself, 'kay?" he said, almost in a whisper. Hodek looked at him, realizing that he was losing his family. No more would he hear stories from Orbas or help the grannies feed the other kids. His future was with Artor... yet he felt an odd warmth and glee as he stared at Artor.

"...Yes. I shall. May thee live happily ever after, father." Hodek said, looking down at the ground before grabbing Artor's hand and walking towards the palace, whose fires lit the beacon of his future.

Act 2

As Artor and Hodek pushed through the snow and the great winds, they met Prana who were passing the border. Hodek reached his hand out each time, but Artor slapped it away each time. And then, Hodek bore witness to death.

"Why? Why ignore their plight?! why bring them death?!" Hodek screamed after the SIXth slap.

Artor looked coldly at Hodek, the same expression on his face ever since they had left. "The mere act would be a blemish on thee. Thou art fortunate that thy village is small and hidden despite its closeness to the border. Lest... the king decide to 'clean' out a stain on thy status."

This revelation was shocking to young Hodek. "Thou art not serious." he said, the words sounding more like a statement than a question. As if he hoped it were a joke.

The white-haired beauty grimaced slightly, yet another new expression that had arose. "Nay, thy father is mad. Nay again, Valkor as a whole is mad. Shifgrethor... this is what thou must keep and grow once thou hath reached the palace."

Hodek began to regret his decision to leave, but he knew he couldn't go back.

After several days, the pair had reached the palace. Officials and those of the royal family roamed about, before quickly taking notice of the young Hodek.

A cacophony of greetings and attempts to curry favor with him were made in the next instance. "Hello young prince, art thou willing to have tea with me in the morn?" "Do tell thy father I am doing my earnest, sire. Look at this elegant rose, a sign of mine efforts!"

Hodek is left speechless, unsure of how to respond to the crowd. Then, like a fresh sheet of snow, Artor stood between him and the group of officials. "Apologies for the interruption, but sir Hodek must meet with the king now."

Like the sea, the people parted from the pair who walked into the palace, through the hall, and into the chamber. There sat what Hodek thought was a corpse, before he realized that was the resting king. He looked at Artor, who had shut his eyes and shook his head. The king is dying.

The king then woke and stared at Artor, his gaze intense. "Ah... Ria, is that you...?" whispered a decrepit voice.

"Nay, sire. It is I." Artor responded.

"Art... or... Artor! Mine apologies, I was still dreaming. Is that mine son there?" the king said, his voice suddenly jovial.

"H-hello, your majesty." Hodek greeted. "Mine name is Hodek, hailing fro-" He stopped himself, remembering what Artor said about the king's madness.

"Hodek.. she gave thee a fine name." the king muttered. "This is the first time we're meeting! I am Bracken, thy father. Welcome to the finest, and only, palace in all of Valkor!"

He made a grand gesture, yet the chamber stayed silent for the jesters had retired for the day.

"Yes, this is quite the sight!" Hodek said in awe. After all, he was only used to the small huts in his village. Such a grand building was new to him. Is this what shifgrethor can bring?

He felt puzzled. That was an odd thought. While he stood there in his thoughts, Bracken began to chat with Artor.

"Thy search was not tumultuous I hope?' he inquired.

"Nay, it was like a walk in the city. Thy worries are unfounded sire." said Artor.

The king nodded and looked at Hodek, who had just finished thinking. "Art thou ready to become a king?"

Hodek stared, recalling Orbas' story about the mad king. He wanted to decline, but then the stories about the lads and lasses who pursued their dreams and the prosperity came to him. It also didn't help that Bracken had an odd fire in his eyes. Hodek can't decline now.

"Yes, father. I am ready." he said, resolved.

The king smiled and gestured at Artor, who nodded and took Hodek's arm.

"I shalt await thy results in later years."

Interlude

As days blurred past, Hodek became more accustomed to the life of a royal. He was given what he asked for and was treated with respect.

He was taught the noble manners and the customs that came with being a royal. Shifgrethor. That word never left him as the days, weeks, months passed.

Artor let Hodek help any Valkoran, saying it would help his shifgrethor. But when he mentioned the Prana, a dark look passed Artor's face and no answer was given to him.

It was then he understood. The peace and kindness of his village was strange. Unheard of in and around the palace. He kept the existence of the village to himself and continued his training to become a king.

Years had passed. It was then it happened. Unlike before, today's kemmer cycle was odd. Hodek was accustomed to the kemmer cycle, yes, but it was what it did to Artor that felt odd. Artor's beauty had been enhanced, for she had become a female for the first time in years that cycle. Many sought her hand, but she refused. Hodek felt a glee each refusal and it was then he realized. Oh, so that's why I felt warm. With that epiphany, he hought it ideal for him to ask.

And ideal it was. She accepted and that day, Hodek took another step forward.

Act 3

King Bracken had died. He was asleep on his throne, and an assassin came in. His throat was slit and blood flowed. The next day was Hodek's first day as king.

From there, his reign seemed different from the past one's. More aid was given to those seeking it and a conflict with Pranla was stopped.

Praise was given to king Hodek, who's beautiful kemmering was no less benevolent. Karhide was prospering and the eternal ice was finally melting.

Unbeknownst to the public, something was brewing within the remnants of frost.

Those against the king were killed or missing, for an enemy of the king would surely oppose his efforts to aid all in prospering. And those with him were assured of their survival. It was the king's honor that protected them, the ones who managed to curry favor with the king.

And soon, a group had arisen. One determined to conquer in the name of the king!

As benevolent as he seemed, hidden within him was a desire to conquer.

If I have both lands, then I shall be able to control all. Surely this is the greatest act of kindness?

And so, the king marched forward. Bit by bit, under his banner, Valkor took more and more of Pranla.

This is laughable! He has stopped a conflict, only to bring about a greater one. So spoke the Prana, whose trust had been broken.

In months' time, the king's victory was all but assured.

It was then. A group of Prana had been hidden in his army. Havoc ensued and none were spared. The king had to retreat and Pranla had regained its land.

This... is humiliating.

As royal as King Hodek was, he lost shifgrethor.

His kindness was all but a ruse! He is a mad king, seeking death under the banner of life!

The king was no longer as prestigious as he was.

Attempts on his life were made, although they had failed. The opposition had no choice but to simply repel him from Valkor. His kemmering died for him, guarding him as they were leaving in exile.

And in his wake, a new king had risen, ready to lead Valkor on a journey most regrettable.

When the sun had once again peeked through the clouds, the king of none was discovered dead. Not killed like his kemmering, but on the ground in an odd position. His insanity had killed him. And thus is the story of Hodek, the orphan destined for a royal death.

"Ah... Artor. Thou hath become nothing but a stone."

"...How poetic. Thou art holding up an arch, just as thou hath held up me."

"Ungrateful wretches. I hath led this nation to great heights. Prosperity was in thine hands and thou swatted it away."

"The sun... Artor...? Hath death sought me at long last...? Please... take me past thy door o' darkness."

"Artor! Artor...! Artor... Ar