The Age of Hero

"Me?" Morvain frowned, as if he hadn't been plotting and preparing for this moment.

"Yes, you," Logan affirmed.

"How?"

"You're a lord. Not just any lord, but a son of Stormwatch. A province that holds the potential to shift the power dynamics among the great families but deliberately stays clear of power itself. And you carry that same blood in your veins."

'What kind of nonsense is that?'

"Despite being a young lord, unlike those arrogant little brats, you chose to be kind to your fellow humans. Helping them and even brightening up their hope," Logan praised, his eyes filled with admiration. "You are a true lord, Eldric Stormwatch."

Morvain stared at Logan, his crimson eyes displaying a mix of doubt and disbelief. Or at least, that's what he wanted this young man to believe.

"You walked with the people and treated them equally, so if you were on the throne then..." Logan trailed off.

"Then people like us could live peacefully," came a strained and cracked voice. The boy didn't turn from his father's body.

Morvain glanced at Ron's son.

"I can't be a king. It's impossible," Morvain insisted.

"It's not impossible, Eldric Stormwatch," came the boy's cracked voice. "It is necessary."

"You can't just waltz in and demand to be a king, kid," Morvain scoffed.

"Not demand, Lord Stormwatch. Earn," the boy replied. He turned towards Morvain, his tear-stained face filled with determination and resolve. "You are already the people's hero. You've got the blood of the most powerful family in you. All you need is the crown and a powerful backing."

"And who the heck would that be?" Morvain raised an eyebrow.

"We, sir. We the people," said Logan. "A king cannot rule if there are no subjects to rule. And we can back you and make you a king."

"You'll fight the highborns?" Morvain crossed his arms.

"If that's what it takes to achieve a better future, sir," Logan affirmed.

Rony stood up and walked towards Morvain. "You didn't tell me you were a highborn, sir—"

"—Brother. Call me brother, as you always do," Morvain interrupted.

Rony smiled, "—brother."

"That's better."

He turned towards Logan, but Logan jumped in quickly. "Nope. Not happening. How can I address my liege as brother?" He shook his head. "Not happening."

"Liege?" Morvain furrowed his brow again.

"Yes. My liege. That is if you have me as your servant." Logan kneeled in front of Morvain.

"You want to serve me?" Morvain couldn't help but chuckle.

'Well, Ron, thank you for your noble sacrifice.'

"Yes, if that's what my liege wants," Logan replied, bowing.

Morvain looked at Rony, who nodded. "You're the one who lit up the world, brother. You are a hero for us. For me and father." Rony bowed.

Morvain turned towards Logan and gestured for the kneeling young man to rise.

"Alright. Rise, Logan. I accept your servitude," Morvain nodded. "I'll do it properly once we make it out of here, alright?"

He walked over to Rony and embraced him. "I'm sorry... for everything," Morvain whispered.

Rony buried his face onto Morvain's shoulder and hugged him back.

"He was a good father, and I... uh... I was a bad son to him. Always complaining and disobeying him," Rony sniffed. "If only I had listened to him. He wouldn't... he wouldn't."

Morvain stroked the boy's back. "He loves you. And he will always love you. Never blame yourself and always cherish the happy moments you had with him, okay?"

"Yes. I will, brother." Rony nodded and broke the embrace. "Thank you, brother."

Morvain smiled. "No. Thank you, Rony."

"How? My father, how did he..."

"There are claims that it's by suffocation, and there are also claims that the highlords must've had assassins in here with us. Some say it's poison," Morvain answered.

"That's absolute nonsense!" Logan exploded. "It must be murder. It is murder!" He turned towards Morvain, "Isn't that right, my liege?"

Morvain nodded, gesturing for Logan to calm down.

"It could be murder, or it can be suicide. The truth is, nobody knows. There are no healers among us lowborns, and none of us are letting the highborns near your father," Morvain explained.

"It's murder. Definitely murder. Father won't commit suicide. He won't. Never," Rony exclaimed. He knelt beside his father and raised his hand, a small crystal cube shimmered to life, glowing with an ethereal firefly color. He hovered it around his father's lifeless body, hoping to find something that could help him prove that his father was murdered.

"Anything?" asked Logan.

"Nothing on the outside. It must be poison or suffocation, like you said, brother," Rony shook his head, and the crystal in his hand shimmered again before scattering into millions of pieces.

Morvain felt a tinge of jealousy; even though small, the boy had an ability. His hand reached inside his pocket and clutched his stone.

"But why, brother? What could be the motivation behind killing a poor soul like him? I cannot fathom it," Rony wiped a streak of fresh tears from his eyes.

"From my travels and close contact with the lords, I just have to say, they don't need any reason to punish someone, especially lowborns. You can walk by the road, following all the laws, and a petty lord sees you and doesn't like you having a decent cloth to wear – he can order you to strip in front of him and beat you senseless. No questions asked," Logan clenched his fists in frustration.

A deathly silence hung in the air as nobody spoke for a moment.

"Who? Who is it, brother?"

"I... uh... I don't know," Morvain answered, and Rony slowly looked at him.

"You have your doubts, don't you? You know someone who can do this, right? Who's it? Just say the name."

Logan gulped, seeing the fire in Rony's eyes. Morvain was no different. Grief could affect a person's mentality, and not to mention, extreme emotions could also develop one's ability.

'This guy would kill me if he knew the truth,' Morvain thought, averting his eyes.

"The young lord of Emberfall, he... uh... he has some issues with your father. For the last two days, they've been verbally dueling each other, and the young lord has openly threatened anyone who crosses his path," Morvain reluctantly revealed.