The Philosopher King

An experimental work

Though nobody had seen the Philosopher King with one’s own eyes, everyone knew he was the one providing him or her with a flourishing life. Like in any other lands, the people of his kingdom had their own ups and downs; however, as long as people resided where the Philosopher King claimed his rule, no mother gave birth to a stillborn child, no plague took away anyone’s life, and no one died of old age. In fact, people hardly sensed their bodies change as time passed unless they looked into a stream or a mirror to find their reflections appearing more mature decade by decade.

The kingdom and its people were not ignorant of death. Most injuries could be cured with enough time, again thanks to the far-reaching spells of the Philosopher King, but some accidents resulted in deaths on site. Such deaths were deeply mourned for their pointlessness. On the other hand, the kings and chieftains of neighboring lands would sometimes launch campaigns against the kingdom to seize its bliss by force, and this inevitably led to deaths too. This type of deaths was highly praised. After a battle, one could see many warriors chanting for the Philosopher King and their fallen comrades, while others were busy drinking or reassembling their crushed and amputated limbs.

Still, death was not the most common type of farewells in the kingdom. Everyone would throw a feast on his or her eightieth birthday and leave for the capital the very next day. After reaching the capital, one would stand in front of the palace at sunset. The place was called the palace for convenience since the Philosopher King was supposedly living in it, but it did not look like a palace at all. From the outside, all one could see was nothing but a massive immaculate cube made from an unrecognizable material, and no one knew what was inside. When one saw a door materialize on its wall, he or she would enter and was never heard of again.

No one knew why everyone was going to the palace after turning eighty or when the custom had started. Everyone was just doing it, either simply following the convention or out of a naïve trust. According to a legend, some people had chosen to leave the kingdom instead. With each step away from the palace, all the sickness they had been avoiding caught up, and some of them even turned into skeletons or a handful of ash within a few steps.

Theophile did not think twice before walking towards the palace. It was partly because he lived in the capital. All his life, he had seen people from every corner of the kingdom enter the palace. Another reason was that he was a simple man. The Philosopher King had been good to him so far, and there seemed to be no reason he would mean to harm Theophile now after eighty years.

Still feeling a bit dizzy from last night drinking, Theophile gulped down pickle juice, said his last goodbye to his wife, children, and friends, and left his home. The palace was less than a hundred steps away from his house. The sun was already setting, and Theophile did not even have to wait for the door to appear. It was already there. He opened the door and walked through it.

An open space appeared in front of Theophile. He could see another wall on the other side, but nothing else. The palace’s building material was still unrecognizable from the inside. Even though Theophile could see no lighting, the place was bright enough. He walked until he reached the center of the space. He could not hear anything.

“Hello?”

No one answered him. Only then did he realize he was wearing his hat. He took it off and cleared his throat.

“Excuse me?”

“Theophile, Theophile!”

A voice thundered. Theophile looked around, but he still could not locate where the voice was coming from. Like the sound of rain when you are caught in a shower, he was being soaked in the voice.

“Your Highness, please forgive me. I have never learned how one should behave at the palace.”

“Be not afraid. Everyone comes here only once and for the first time.”

Holding the hat with both of his hands in an awkward posture, Theophile heard a roar of chuckles. When the chuckles died away, the silence once again filled the empty space. Theophile felt the urge to break the silence.

“Your Highness, may I—”

“—Speak, Theophile.”

“Please forgive my ineloquent tongue, but what should I do for you here?”

“I have known you belong to the latter.”

Theophile did not understand what the Philosopher King had in mind. As if he had read Theophile’s mind, the Philosopher King continued.

“Most people ask one of the two questions first. The first question: where is everybody? The second question: what do I do here?”

“Forgive me, Your Highness.”

“If you had done wrong, I would, but there is nothing to forgive.”

A finger snap was heard, and a chair appeared.

“Your Highness, I am very grateful but would rather stay standing in front of you.”

“Theophile, Theophile, do you want to stay standing? Why do you not fall to your knees?”

Theophile immediately fell to his knees, but with another finger snap, he was seated on the chair.

“I have given you enough chances to enhance your comprehension of humor in your life. I am not saying it is necessarily a fault, but you could have had a more fulfilling life. Just to let you know, you were the first person in twenty-seven years who did not say a single joke on your eightieth birthday party.”

“Then where are others?”

With a slip of his tongue, Theophile immediately felt regret. He was just about to ask for forgiveness but stopped at the last moment, remembering what the Philosopher King had said. However, the question which would have never escaped his mouth was let loose in return.

“Theophile, Theophile,” the Philosopher King answered kindly. “Why do you think you are here?”

“I absolutely have no idea, Your Highness.”

“Indeed, you do not understand. Nevertheless, you have never asked why.”

“No.”

“Most people, though they are invited to the palace, do not come to me. Instead, they spend the immortality I have granted them pondering why and how they ended up here.”

Theophile could not follow what the Philosopher King was saying. He nevertheless felt at ease, thanks to his ignorance.

“Theophile, Theophile.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“Why have you not asked why?”

“Because I am a simple man, and you have been good to me.”

The Philosopher King’s laughter roared again like the sound of high water.

“Come, Theophile. Let us feast together.”

Theophile heard a finger snap. A door materialized on the wall facing him and opened. It seemed there was no lighting in there.

“Your Highness.”

“Yes, Theophile.”

“Will I see your face there?”

“Come find out, and leave the chair there.”

Theophile stood up and walked towards the door.

If you enjoyed my work, you can buy me a cup of tea. I am not a coffee person, by the way.