The duke quipped, "-for the king who allowed us to reach such a situation, I rather not heed their majestic advice. So long, majesty." *Thud,* a pensive moment of reflection, '-the pope is right,' sighed Igna, '-been a while since someone dared to criticize my action,' - therein, inspiration, the fabled lady Eureka coyly winked, "-criticism, the olden truth of a king being as good as his entourage. I've been a fool, seriously,' a chuckle escaped, "-I was lost in the greater picture I forgot what was precious. Happens to the best of us," he stood, made way to the window, snuck his hands in between closed curtains, and threw one of the layers over his back, revealing a bitter evening, "-rainy season is upon the capital," he looked at the booming city, '-Rosespire, I'll do what is best to conquer our disagreements. Hidros stands as a multiracial culture of constant improvement, a good foundation to build upon – the populous have made the city more their own – a just judicial system, a just king, and good policies. In times of peace and trade, the established norms would push us towards a prosperous future. The feudal system is still in order despite most decisions being subject to the public and discussed in the parliament. Alas, the current way of doing things is diverse and not centralized; it's good for the people and bad for the state. Pushing forward stronger policies will be met by backlash and resistance from the populous and ministers. Tyrants have left a distaste in many historians' mouths. Hailed as evil incarnate – men of power would willingly throw the trust of the people into war. What many don't speak is of why tyrants turned tyrants; circumstance. Looking at it now, my situation is similar – I have to lead the kingdom through an age of unknown and face risks of total invasion. Religion has no border, the papacy of Leon knows what they're doing – condemning Kreston bury seeds, kindling who grow and spread, waiting for the perfect time to strike. Let's play,' he smiled, '-afraid to say, there's no escaping war and disturbance of Hidros. Might be the end for us,' he sighed, blinked a few times – an alluring expression of kindness and joy wiped clean, the Staxius' renowned hubris manifested in stages – he needed to change and to change, there was but one way – return to naught. '-control my emotions,' the eyes closed, '-and reawaken what I've forsaken,' two dark masses rose in the shadows, they walked silently and wrapped around Igna, "-are you sure?" asked one, "-calling onto us defeats your purpose."
The Wielder of Death Magic
Urban · Frostysyrup
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