The Burial
I walked at the front of the procession, just behind the bier. My steps were steady, but inside, I felt unsteady. The people lined the streets in silence, their faces a mixture of sorrow and reverence. Many had loved King Valen and Queen Isolde, and their passing left a void in the heart of Eldoria. I felt that same void, gnawing at me, though mine was far deeper than I could express.
The truth was, I wasn't just mourning their deaths. I was mourning the life that had been buried beneath layers of falsehoods and manipulations, the life I had lived as Eldric Valen Eldoria. The memory of Darius Caelum, the boy from the Village of Heroes, was hidden beneath the façade of the arrogant prince I had been molded into. King Valen and Queen Isolde had taken me in, raised me, and loved me, but they had also shielded me from the truth, allowing me to forget my real past. For so long, I had been blind to it, content in my ignorance, living as the heir to Eldoria without knowing that I was truly someone else entirely.
But now, walking in this solemn march, I couldn't help but remember.
I remembered my earliest days as Eldric Valen. I had been so small then, barely old enough to understand the weight of the title I had been given. King Valen was a giant in my eyes, a man of unwavering strength and kindness. He had a smile that could warm even the coldest days, and though he ruled with firm authority, there was always a gentleness in his eyes when he looked at me.
"Come, Eldric," he'd say with a chuckle, lifting me onto his shoulders after a long day of training. "One day, you'll be stronger than even I am."
And I had believed him. I had idolized him. He had become my everything in those early years, my protector, my teacher, my father. But there were moments, especially when I was alone in my room, where vague, confusing memories would surface—faces I couldn't place, a village that felt familiar but distant. I didn't understand it then, but those were fragments of Darius's life trying to resurface, fragments that were pushed down every time I was reminded of my duty as Eldric Valen.
The queen—Queen Isolde—was my solace during those moments. She was as radiant as the moon, her laughter like music that filled the halls of the palace. While King Valen taught me strength, she taught me compassion. She would hold me close when the nightmares came, wiping away my tears as she whispered stories of heroes and kings, stories that soothed my restless heart.
"You are destined for greatness, my son," she would say, her fingers brushing through my hair. "But you must never lose sight of your heart. It is your greatest weapon."
Those were the memories that rose unbidden as we neared the royal crypt, where the king and queen would be laid to rest. The sun was setting behind the mountains, casting a golden glow over the stone walls of the palace. I felt a lump rising in my throat as we entered the courtyard, where the crypt stood, its doors open, waiting to receive the bodies of the king and queen.
I wasn't ready for this.
The crowd gathered around the crypt in a wide circle, watching in silence as the priests began the final rites. My heart pounded in my chest, and my mind raced with memories, flashing in and out of focus. I saw myself as a young boy, running through the palace gardens with Queen Isolde watching from a distance, her smile soft and loving. I saw King Valen teaching me how to hold a sword, his hand guiding mine with gentle strength.
"You must always lead with your heart, Eldric," he had said one afternoon after a particularly grueling session. "A sword is only as strong as the will that wields it."
But even as those memories swirled in my mind, there were darker ones too. I remembered the first time I had shown arrogance in front of the court, the first time I had spoken with the entitlement of a spoiled prince. And I remembered the way it had pleased the courtiers, the way they had smiled and encouraged me. Over time, I had learned that arrogance was a tool, a mask I wore to protect myself from the vulnerability I felt deep inside. They had wanted me to be strong, to be ruthless, to be the perfect heir, and I had complied.
But it had cost me.
It had cost me the memory of my true parents, of my true life.
The memories of Darius Caelum had been buried deep, hidden beneath layers of manipulation. And now, as I stood at the edge of the crypt, watching the priests prepare to lower the king and queen into the earth, those memories began to rise again, threatening to overwhelm me.
I remembered the day King Valen had first fallen ill. It had been sudden, unexpected. He had always been strong, invincible in my eyes. But that day, I had seen the weariness in his face, the way his hands trembled slightly as he lifted his sword. He had brushed it off, insisting it was nothing more than fatigue. But the sickness had grown, slowly, steadily, until it consumed him.
Even then, he had been kind. Even as his body weakened, he had continued to teach me, to guide me, to love me. I had watched him wither away, powerless to stop it. And Queen Isolde, ever graceful, had remained by his side, her strength unwavering until the very end. She had never let me see her cry, but I knew her heart had been breaking. When she passed shortly after him, I knew it was because she couldn't live without him.
And now, they were both gone. The two people who had shaped me, who had loved me as their own. And though I knew the truth now, that I was not truly their son, it didn't change the fact that they had been my family. They had given me everything.
As the priests finished their prayers, the caskets were lowered into the crypt. I watched in silence, my chest tight with grief. The finality of it struck me hard. This was the end of King Valen's reign, the end of the life I had known as Eldric Valen.
The crowd began to disperse, the mourners leaving the courtyard one by one. But I stayed behind, unable to move. My feet felt rooted to the ground, my eyes fixed on the spot where they had been laid to rest.
I remembered everything now. Every lesson, every smile, every moment of love and guidance. And I remembered the times I had failed them, the times I had let my arrogance overshadow the values they had tried to instill in me. I had been so blind, so lost in the role they had created for me.
"Goodbye, Father. Goodbye, Mother," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "I hope… I hope I can make you proud."
The sun had fully set by the time I turned to leave, the courtyard bathed in the soft glow of the torches. My mind was heavy with memories, my heart aching with the loss of the only family I had known.
But as I stepped away from the crypt, something strange happened. The air around me shifted, the weight of the night lifting slightly. I blinked, confused, and when I opened my eyes, I was no longer in the courtyard.
I was standing in a garden. A beautiful, vibrant garden filled with flowers of every color. The scent of jasmine and roses filled the air, and a soft breeze rustled through the trees. It was familiar—too familiar. My heart skipped a beat as I looked around, recognizing the garden instantly.
It was the garden of Eryndor, the Village of Heroes.
I took a step forward, my breath catching in my throat. How… how was this possible? I hadn't been here since I was a child, since before my life as Eldric Valen had begun. The memories came rushing back—memories of running through these very gardens, laughing, playing, unaware of the world beyond. This was where I had been happy, truly happy, before everything had been taken from me.
And then I saw them.
Standing at the far end of the garden, beneath the large oak tree where I used to play, were two figures. My breath hitched as I recognized them.
It was King Valen and Queen Isolde.
They stood side by side, their expressions calm, peaceful. They looked younger, stronger, as though the weight of their illness and death had never touched them. King Valen smiled at me, his eyes full of warmth, the way they had been when I was a child. Queen Isolde's hand rested gently on his arm, her gaze soft and loving.
I couldn't move. I couldn't speak. All I could do was stare at them, the weight of everything crashing over me.
They were here. In this place. In this memory.
And for the first time in a long time, I felt like the boy I used to be.