“I worry about Ascalon sometimes. I see his exhaustion growing by the day, so desperate to please the citizens, and yet he’s so self-destructive with his own body. He remains ever on a silent vigil, shouldering the weight of the entire nation on his back. Oh, Ascalon… A nation is called such because the people strive together towards its prosperity. Alone, we struggle. But together, we persevere, reaching greater heights.”

Lorelai, the Throne of Heaven

———

Ascalon

The King examines the knight before him. Something about them feels familiar, yet foreign at the same time. Their sight invokes a strange sensation of melancholy within him, as if he is reuniting with a long lost friend. A comforting hum soothes his mind, and yet a sorrowful ache beats within his chest. Just why do they seem so familiar…

“I thank you,” he says politely, pushing his thoughts out of mind. “For enduring The Miasma; for your service to the nation; and, most importantly-”

He descends his ivory throne and walks towards the knight’s side. Dropping down on one knee, he gently grabs their shoulder with a heart full of compassion.

“Thank you for surviving.”

“I am honored to receive your kind words,” the knight replies. “Though fragmented my memory may be, my knowledge is yours to use.”

There it is again. That strange feeling of familiarity radiates from the knight’s voice. It is light and rich. A soft, airy tone uplifts their words and fills it with unyielding conviction. It makes him feel warm inside. Just like…

“No,” The King rebukes in his mind. “Pull yourself together Ascalon. You must not let yourself be distracted by such thoughts.”

“Tell me,” he commands. “What do you remember about the day you were attacked?”

“I remember...being inside of the fortress,” the knight states uncertainly. “I don’t know which unit I came from, but there was a sudden bout of tremors that leveled the ground below us. The fortress fell, and we were forced to move on foot as an army of soldiers began to emerge from the forest. Their appearance still remains hazy in my memory, but there was one knight that appeared to command over the others. Violet aura leaked out of their armor, and my body felt heavy from being near them, as if I was being crushed by an invisible force.”

“Gravitas,” Ascalon growls. “Did he survive the battle?”

“I’m not sure. Everything is so…muddled after that. I remember seeing a flash of gold and silver, bodies dropping around me, and the screams.”

The knight shudders, appearing to recall the torturous memories, and a haunting timbre envelopes their voice.

“Everyone started to scream. A black mist swept across the battlefield. It invaded my mind; crippled my body. I tried to move, but the corpses grabbed at me. They dragged me down with bloodied hands, cursing at me for trying to abandon them. I-I…”

The King swiftly embraces the knight, wrapping them in a tight hug. He doesn’t need them to elaborate; their mind has been ravaged enough. It is cruel to force them to remember anything beyond that point.

“It’s ok,” Ascalon reassures the knight. “You need not continue any further from there.”

The knight reorganizes themself and apologizes to The King, embarrassed at their sudden display of weakness.

“Do you remember anything about Lorelai, the leader of your expedition? What about obtaining The Comet?”

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The knight shakes their head.

“I don’t remember seeing anyone that matches with what I’ve heard about Lorelai, and I don’t think we found anything in the forest.”

The King sighs, still ignorant of Lorelai’s fate. Did she really make it out? Does he dare hope?

“If The Miasma began to reappear, then that must mean Gravitas is dead,” he ponders out loud. “His gravity probably smothered The Miasma into the earth, and his death caused it to rise back up again. If that’s the case, then that explains The Nox’s lack of movement and Libevich’s disappearance.”

“The question is,” Annalay begins. “Do we use this opportunity to invade The Nox, or should we continue searching for The Comet?”

Ascalon sits back on the throne, his mind deep in thought.

“We’ll abandon the search for The Comet for now,” he declares. “If they’re not in the forest, then the most likely location is either The Antiqua or The Steppe. We currently don’t have the resources to send an expedition that far out, so we’ll focus our efforts on crippling Nox Caelum and preventing them from coming after us once our defenses are weakened.”

“Understood.” Annalay salutes, failing to hide her excited bloodlust.

Dariel, attempting to not interfere with the conversation, lets out a big sneeze, dissipating the tense atmosphere in the room. He looks around nervously and attempts to erase his presence from sight.

A hearty laugh escapes The King’s lips. His thoughts have been becoming gloomy again, so the distraction is well needed to lift him from his stupor.

“Oh, Dariel, I’m sorry for ignoring you this entire time. It’s been quite a while, how have you been?”

“I’ve been doing well, my liege,” Dariel says happily. “I was able to get a lot of experience with how the knights operate back at the camp, and I aspire to be just as knowledgeable as you when it comes to legislative and military matters.”

“You praise me too much, Dariel. I’ve only been fulfilling what’s expected of me as King. How was our knight’s state when you saw them come out of The Miasma?”

Dariel frowns, the screams and wails of the knight echoing back into his conscious.

“It was quite bad, your majesty. They were a wreck. Body twitching, voice screaming…It was only when night fell that they managed to regain a small bit of sanity, but it still took a few days before they fully calmed down. They have quite the indomitable will to have been able to survive the journey.”

”Indeed. Not many could endure such an ordeal.”

Ascalon glances at the imprint on the knight’s armor and a disappointed exhale leaves his body.

“I’m even more impressed that they’re still in stable condition after being forced to entertain our hardheaded Throne over here.”

He shoots a glare at Annalay and beckons her towards him. Annalay sighs and gets up, ready for her punishment.

“Punch or kick?”

“Kick, I deserve it.”

“By your word.”

Ascalon sends a powerful kick into Annalay’s chestplate, sending her flying across the room and crashing into the furniture. Various officers come rushing in, alarmed at the sudden noise, but Ascalon waves them off and assures that everything’s alright. They shake their heads with disappointment and leave the area while Annalay picks herself up, brushing the debris off of her.

“Yep,” she says, still wincing. “That hurts.”

“Good.”

He turns around and faces the knight, pride etched onto his visage.

“Although you may not remember your name, your service to our nation will never be forgotten. Being able to stand your ground against Annalay, along with that mental fortitude of yours, proves that you have the skills necessary to be a pillar of our military, and as such I would like to make you a vice-captain of the order once you recover your memories.

Ascalon unsheathes The Mattatron and raises it up high. It glows a radiant sky blue and begins to illuminate the room.

“Remove your helmet, and I shall bathe you in The Monarch’s Aura, signifying your ascension among the order.”

The knight freezes and remains motionless, staying completely silent. Ascalon awkwardly keeps the sword raised high, confused at their lack of response.

“Are you alright?”

“Ah, yes my liege,” the knight says. “It would be my greatest honor to receive your aura.”

The knight gently takes off their helm and sets it on the ground.

Ascalon drops The Mattatron on the floor, shock and disbelief rapidly spreading across his face. He collapses on his knees and desperately grabs at the knight’s hand.

“You… could… could it really be?”

Tears well up in Ascalon’s eyes, for the face before him is of the woman he loves most.

“You’ve returned,” Ascalon whispers. “Just as promised you would.”