A new king.

Maximus' tall figure stood at the front of the grand imperial hall, his presence commanded grace, no one dared match his gaze as usual.

"I will hand it over to the minister of rites now." The prime minister stepped down for the minister of rites to take over.

The minister of rites stepped forward and handed over the ancestral sword to Maximus.

"Prince Maximus, unsheath the sword of your ancestors." He echoed firmly.

With a determination stronger than his nephew's, Maximus raised the sword up with one hand, he then closed his eyes to concentrate.

He opened his mouth slightly and began to say some galdr, blue magic began to flow in his free hand, his hand began emitting a blue light, and his body vibrated as the magic drained him.

He summoned the spirit of his ancestors, and the fury of a thousand dragons. He then grabbed the hilt of the sword and the sword shone brightly with intense illumination in response to the magic.

With a mighty pull, he tore the sword asunder as he let out the sound of a raging dragon that shook the heavens and earth.

The air was stirred the moment the sword came in contact with it. A red light emanated slowly from the sword, the wind essence directed the light with the earth's qi, straight to heaven.

And then a loud boom sound resonated from above signifying that the sword had been unsheathed successfully.

"What are you all doing? Bow before the king." The Prime minister remarked and every breathing entity there bowed before Maximus.

Afterwards, the imperial dressers took him to the dressing room to dress him up. Maximus looked at himself in the mirror as he was being adorned from head to toe. Instead of wearing a robe with four dragons embroidered on it, he was now wearing a robe with seven dragons embroidered on it.

Afterwards, he went to pay homage to his ancestors by doing the seven kowtow [bowing his head to the ground seven times].

The ministers of rites came forward and handed him a royal jade scepter and imperial seal before crowning him with a golden crown. Then he pronounced Maximus the king of Drakonia.

The nobles and warriors array to pay homage to the new king. They raised their sword high in the air, forming a triangle for the king to pass through.

Maximus stepped forward and walked majestically, the eunuchs and high ranking officials trailed behind him with each step taken. As he walked through the sword archway, he was surrounded by gleaming swords, and the warriors pledged their loyalty to him.

He finally climbed on the throne and sat down on it as the king of Drakonia.

All the subjects gathered together to make the seven bows before him as he is now officially the king. The ministers also came up and bowed before him one by one.

They began celebrating, the royal maids brought in a variety of food and wine. The subjects adored and praised Maximus, and they all saw him as their savior.

"Your majesty, you are wonderfully made." The Prime minister complimented the king as he stood behind him.

"I know."

"May your reign be filled with wisdom, prosperity….."

"Enough! You haven't bowed before me." Maximus yelled.

"Oh, that is true your majesty." The Prime minister replied and went ahead to bow before him.

The moon glowed with an eerie light, its light was sickly yellow, like jaundiced eyes staring from above. The shadows twist and writhe due to the light casted by the moon. The wind began to stir as if whispering secrets to their deaf ears.

The sky was dark and foreboding, the cloud was thick and menacing as if sending signals to the people of Drakonia, but they were too busy celebrating a new king.

However, all this didn't go unnoticed by one person there, he observed the atmosphere and wondered what could be wrong.

__

Roshan sat down with his back facing the audience. He poured himself wine and gulped it down at once. He couldn't comprehend how he was feeling. It was a mixed feeling of disappointment, loneliness, pain and sadness.

Just when he thought agony would be departing from him, misery showed up. Crying was not an option for him, he had done that several times and there was no solution still.

If the ground could divide into two to swallow at that moment, he wouldn't mind. At least, there will be no difficulty for him in the afterworld and all his pains would be gone.

He wanted to be like others too, to be able to perform different spells and magic, going to war to conquer enemies, but all his efforts were in vain no matter how hard he tried. He is so weak that he could fall sick if he is exposed to harsh weather. His being alive is all thanks to his uncle who has been a canopy of protection for him.

He was getting fed up with his messed up life already, there had barely been a moment of happiness in his life, because he had no one to talk to. The only person he could remember during his happy moments was now far away from him.

He looked at the back and glanced at his uncle, the moment he used the energy that flows in the air to unsheath the ancestral sword earlier replayed in his head. He laughed at himself upon remembering that, who would crown a weak man like him as the king.

However, he wanted to know why? Why was he unable to unsheath the sword earlier? What is the misery about his birth? Why is he weak among them? Did his mother truly kill his father? He wanted answers.

Living in the palace will be a shame for him since he no longer has a royal role. People gossiped about him even when he was a prince, and now that he's not, it will be even more embarrassing.

Maybe it was high time he left the palace, to go look for answers to his questions. He thought.