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“Her name was Persephone, and it was my own fault I lost her. If I’d only known then what I know now…” King Arnie’s voice, at first a whisper, died altogether under the weight of his memory.
“What happened, Your Greatness?” Elliot prompted him.
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The King’s words faded to a wistful smile. His eyes closed as though he were admiring a cherished treasure he shared with no one else.
Elliot waited.
Two large tears squeezed out beneath the monarch’s eyelids to slip down his pale green cheeks and splash their saltiness on the ground at his feet.
Elliot’s voice gently reminded His Greatness that he wasn’t alone. “I’ve heard only how cruel war can be. What good did it bring you?”
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The King stared at something far away and long ago that Elliot couldn’t see. When His Greatness spoke, there was such sad longing in his voice that Elliot’s heart wept.
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“My future?” Before his eyes, the kindling dawn flared into a tangerine sky. Elliot’s breath caught in his chest. His thoughts caught in his mouth. His imagination soared beyond his tail’s slicing burn to fill his mind with light and hidden possibilities.
“Yes, Elliot, your future,” King Arnie repeated. “I’ve been around a long time, son — may I call you ‘son’?” he inquired, waiting politely for a reply.
Elliot had recently developed a healthy skepticism regarding the motivations of strangers, but now he began to realize he should temper his caution by listening when the little voice named Instinct spoke.
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“Your Greatness, noble King Arnie da Former,” Barry called from the edge of the pool, bowing so low his chin touched the water, “please allow me ta present Cassandra and Elliot, adventurers from far away, here seekin’ asylum in da peaceful Kingdom of Bog.”
Space, Time, and Raspberries 
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