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The Reign of Chaos

In Basilia Palace, chaos erupts as Christos, driven by a hunger for power, usurps the throne, imposing tyranny upon the realm. King Themis, sensing the imminent danger posed to his daughter by Casimir, a man fixated on a prophecy foretelling his demise at the hands of the king's child, flees into hiding. As Christos tightens his grip on the kingdom, the plight of the commoners worsens. Meanwhile, King Themis grapples with a difficult decision: to flee with his vulnerable daughter and ensure her safety, or to confront Christos and reclaim his rightful place on the throne, despite the risks it entails. Caught between his duty to his people and his paternal instincts, the king finds himself torn. With danger lurking at every corner and the future of the kingdom hanging in the balance.

msso_o · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
52 Chs

Honoring the Fallen

As the next day dawned, the once lively tower now stood shrouded in an air of somber silence. Lucius, the holy saint, sat in his room, his usually bright eyes dulled by the weight of sorrow that hung heavy in the air. Beside him, two servants bustled about, assisting him in preparing for the solemn task ahead.

A gentle knock sounded at the door, and Lady Eshe, Lucius' mother, entered with a soft smile on her lips. She approached her son, her heart heavy with the knowledge of the pain he bore.

"Are you ready for the task that lies before you?"

He met his mother's gaze, his smile bittersweet as he nodded in response.

"Yes, Mother," he replied.

"I am prepared to offer my farewell blessings to our fallen comrades."

Lady Eshe reached out, placing a comforting hand on her son's shoulder, her touch a silent reassurance of her love and support.

"You are strong, my son," she murmured.

"But keep in mind that grieving is acceptable. Your sorrow is evidence of your great empathy and your relationship with the people you have lost."

Lucius nodded, his eyes glistening with unshed tears as he took a moment to gather his composure. With a deep breath, he rose to his feet, and together, mother and son made their way out of the room.

In the solemn chamber, Themis sat alongside Ayira, Adira, Avra, and Zagan as they prepared to bid farewell to the fallen soldiers who had valiantly fought to the last. 

As the bell tolled, signaling the beginning of the ceremony, Lucius entered the room, his footsteps echoing softly against the hallowed silence. Behind him followed Priest Damayanti, his solemn presence a symbol of reverence and respect for the departed.

With measured steps, Lucius and Damayanti made their way to the center of the room, where the fallen soldiers lay at rest. Lucius knelt before the coffins, his head bowed in prayer, his heart heavy with the weight of sorrow.

Beside him, Damayanti joined in prayer, his voice steady and solemn as he spoke the words of the ceremony.

"Eternal rest grant unto our fallen soldiers," he began, his voice echoing softly in the chamber.

"and let perpetual light shine upon them. May they rest in peace."

As the final words of the prayer echoed through the room, Lucius and Damayanti rose to their feet. The ceremony had come to an end, but the memory of the fallen soldiers would live on in the hearts of those who had gathered to honor their sacrifice.

The ceremony came to a somber close, the mages solemnly began to carry the coffins of the fallen soldiers out of the room.

Lucius, positioned near the entrance door, bowed his head in reverence as each coffin passed by him. He closed his eyes, a silent prayer on his lips, struggling to contain his emotions as the weight of the loss settled heavily upon him.

"Father, please... let Mike's coffin stay here," Ayira stated as she turned to her father, her voice trembling with emotion as she pleaded for something that felt impossible.

Themis, his expression unreadable, remained silent for a moment, contemplating his daughter's request. 

"...Father, please" 

He turned to his daughter, placed a hand on her shoulder, and with a nod, he ordered the mages who were holding Mike Coffin to pull back. 

The mages, recognizing the king's command, carefully set Mike's coffin down, allowing it to remain in the room. With gentle reverence, they moved it to a preservation room reserved for the royal family, where Mike's memory could be honored and cherished by those who knew and loved him.

Mike's body was moved to an open bed in the room where he could be touched, which can help maintain a dead body. Themis acknowledged that he needed to leave the room so that the four could have a moment to themselves. 

As Themis left the room, a heavy silence settled over Ayira, Adira, Avra, and Zagan. They gathered around the open bed where Mike's body lay.

Ayira, her eyes brimming with tears, reached out to touch Mike's cold hand, her fingers trembling with emotion. "I can't believe he's gone," she whispered.

Adira, her expression etched with sorrow, placed a comforting hand on Ayira's shoulder, offering silent support in their shared grief.

"He was a brave warrior," she murmured.

"He fought with honor until the end."

Avra, her eyes glazed with tears, knelt beside the bed, her gaze fixed on Mike's peaceful face. Memories of their shared adventures flooded her mind, each one a bittersweet reminder of the bond they had forged in battle.

Zagan struggled to contain his emotions as he stood beside his fallen comrade. He gazed at Mike's still form, a mixture of sadness and nostalgia washing over him.

"You know, Mike," Zagan began, his voice tinged with humor to mask the pain.

"if you're gonna die at least pass the captain title to me instead of Avra." His attempt at levity elicited a small chuckle from Ayira and Adira, a brief respite from their tears.

Ayira playfully swatted Zagan's arm.

"Zagan, that's so mean," she scolded, though a hint of amusement glimmered in her eyes.

Zagan shrugged nonchalantly, a small smirk playing on his lips.

"Imagine if Mike suddenly woke up and heard you being all conceited, Zagan. He'd probably laugh so hard," Avra added as she joined in the banter. 

Zagan's facade cracked as tears welled up in his eyes.

"Yeah," he admitted, his voice trembling slightly.

"I'd give anything to hear him laugh again. Even if it's at my expense."

"..."

"..."

"..."

"If Mike were here, he'd probably be teasing me right now. Punching my shoulder and laughing about some stupid joke. And you know what? I'd gladly take all of that, every single moment, without complaint." he began, his words tinged with regret.

Ayira, tears streaming down her cheeks, nodded in agreement.

"I-I wish he was here...He could call me a crybaby, he could tease me, he could even pinch my cheeks... I wouldn't care. I wouldn't get mad. I just want him back..." she added. 

Avra, her composure slipping, added her heartfelt plea.

"I wouldn't be mad either," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

"He could make fun of me, tease me... I'd endure it all just to see him again. Just to feel like he's still here." she added. 

Their words lingered heavily in the air, showing the depth of their respect for Mike. The door suddenly opened, and it was Lucius. He rushes in after the ceremony and bids the soldier farewell.

As Lucius entered the room, his heart was weighed down by sorrow, his eyes immediately sought out Mike's lifeless form. He stumbled forward, his sobs echoing in the quiet room.

Zagan moved to his side, offering silent support as Lucius knelt beside Mike's bed, his hands trembling as he reached out to touch his friend's cold, still face.

"I'm sorry, Mike," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion.

"I'm so sorry."

Tears streamed down his cheeks as he pleaded with Mike's unmoving form, his words filled with desperation.

"I've gotten better at magic," he continued.

"Please, wake up," he begged.

"I've gotten better at magic, Mike. I can cast all the different elements now. I wanted to show you... Please, just wake up."

The memories flooded back – of Mike's encouragement, his belief in Lucius's abilities, and his unwavering support. He encouraged him to push himself and enhance his magic talents since Mike recognized Lucius's potential in magic rather than swordsmanship.

Lucius had always admired Mike's strength, both as a leader and as a friend, and now, faced with his absence.

Zagan held him close as they mourned the friend they had lost.

 

-

-

-

 

As the morning sun rose over the training field, Ayira approached her friends. The four were already waiting for her, their faces bright with the prospect of a new day, and they exchanged greetings.

Avra took charge, her voice ringing out clear and commanding as she outlined their training regimen for the day.

As the group gathered on the training field, Zagan's mind drifted back to the conversation they had shared in the quiet room where Mike lay. 

"Hey, Lucius," Zagan called out, nudging him playfully.

"Remember what you said back there? you've been bragging about how you've improved your magic skills, huh? You think you're better than before?" he added, grinning mischievously.

"Of course I remember," he replied, glancing at him. 

"I've been practicing a lot. Do you want to see it? I can show you if you want." 

Zagan raised an eyebrow

"Oh, really? Well then, how about we put it to the test? Not with swords this time, but with magic. A duel, if you will."

"Sounds like a challenge I can't resist."

A smile tugged at Avra's lips as she watched the exchange between her friends.

"I'll make it interesting. How about this? Whoever wins gets a gold coin from me." she chimed in making Zagan's eyes light up with excitement

"You're on, Avra! Prepare to witness my victory, Lucius!"

"We'll see about that. May the best mage win." he declared, raising an eyebrow at Zagan.

 "You're on" 

 "Prepare to be amazed."

With that, the two friends took their positions in the training field...