“A King is nothing without his people. Although he may lead the populace, it is the citizens that pave the foundation. They build great structures that reach towards the sky above; they grow plentiful harvest that scares away the wretch called hunger; they gather together in merry celebration to make this fleeting life worth living. I… am nothing without my people, so it is only fitting that Cosmos’s gift has me constrained to them. The Monarch’s Wings are my curse, but one that I am happy to bear."
King Ascalon, Ruler of Polus
———
Ascalon
The entire court is paralyzed with shock. Annalay’s body begins to tremble as she processes her King’s sudden proclamation, and the knights and Seraph are frozen with disbelief, their expressions covered in abject horror. The legal officers erupt into a loud outcry of incredulity and pleads for the King to reconsider.
“My liege!” Gadriel yells in despair. “Thou must not entertain this perilous thought! The King must be here to safeguard the nation! It is our tradition, our oath, our stern vow! The citizens are able to thrive in peace in due part of your everlasting presence!”
“Do the citizens truly look free of burden to you, Chancellor?” Ascalon laments. “Are they able to walk out onto the streets without the uncertainty of tomorrow plaguing their minds?”
“That… that is beside the point,” Gadriel awkwardly concedes, attempting to divert the subject. “The Capital is your bulwark as well. The Monarch’s Wings shall grow weak without the presence of the people. We cannot jeopardize thy safety in such a volatile era, no matter the circumstance. Even if we were to all perish in the morrow, the kingdom can be rebuilt as long as thine light remains burning.”
Ascalon slams his fist upon his throne in a rare display of rage, startling the court. The deafening boom of the impact echoes amidst the chamber walls, silencing the rampant objections of his decree and filling the room with an uneasy silence.
“You are wrong, Gadriel,” Ascalon seethes. “A King is nothing without his people, but the opposite does not hold true. Even if I am to perish, another shall take my place and inherit The Monarch’s Wings. As long as the people remain united, a nation can always be rebuilt. It is not the Ruler that dictates a kingdom’s identity, but rather the heart of its citizens. I am merely a leech latching on to the sacrifices of the populace.”
“My… my liege, you are anything but a-,”
“But it is true. What have I truly accomplished upon my time on this throne? Nothing has changed since King Dáinsleif’s death. Xeros remains a constant threat to our people, and the number of perished accumulate by the day. We almost lost Lorelai, and the thought of her death being caused by my incompetence eats away at my very soul. Polus will decay if nothing is done, and I will do anything to prevent its collapse. I will lead the charge against Nox Caelum and Xeros will die right before my eyes. That, I proclaim.”
None can utter a single word, for the King’s determined gaze offers no possibility of relenting. They realize that nothing will change his decree and they mull about, embarrassed at their condensing treatment towards his resolve. How can they rebuke him when his visage shines like none other in this very moment?
“… I apologize my liege- no, Ascalon,” Gadriel expresses with regret. “I undermined thy resolution, and I looked down upon the noble people of our kingdom. Stagnation truly is a terrible malaise, for one does not realize its existence when submerged in its grasp. The people looked up to me for succor, but I averted my gaze out of ignorance.”
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
“Oh, Gadriel. The burden is not yours alone to take,” one of the legal officers comforts. “We have all been complacent, afraid of the brewing storm, but that is why we must take this chance to right our wrongs.”
“We are an administration,” another joins in. “It is our duty to share the blame, and also our duty to strive towards the morrow, together.”
“I thank thee all for humbling such an old man,” Gadriel whispers. “Ascalon, we shall support whatever path thine chooses to traverse. Unity hath been our guiding principle since antiquity, and so we shall entrust our everything to you.”
“Thank you,” Ascalon rejoices. “And you need not worry. We shall bring in the full force of our army, so The Monarch’s Wings will not diminish in power as long as I’m surrounded by our countryman. I will be safe along with the others.”
“Ascalon, are you really sure about entrusting me with the Kingdom?” Annalay asks.
“Of course, Annalay. My mind can be at ease knowing that you’ll be here. Sarathiel… well, he’ll recover by the time we march, but his power is not suited for defense. I can trust you, and only you, to be our stalwart aegis.”
“Well, if you praise me that much, then I suppose I’ll have to do my best!”
Annalay lets out a boisterous laugh, her previous melancholy nowhere to be seen. A newfound determination lights her gaze and her voice becomes invigorated with passion.
“Make sure you shake off all of that rust on you. You’re gonna have to fight extra hard without me there!”
“Hah! My blade shall be unbending. Just make sure you don’t go on a drunken rampage while I’m gone. If you do, Sarathiel won’t be the only one in a mummified state.”
Ascalon points to the large mass in the corner of the room. Sarathiel is unrecognizable under the countless bandages and gauze that surrounds his body. his movement nonexistent, and he can only let out a whimpered grunt at the King’s teasing. Although he managed to recover from his fight against Lorelai, Ascalon’s beating proved to be much, much harsher, and he is once again left battered and bruised.
”Yikes. Yeah, I’m not as stupid as that big lug. You don’t have to worry about me.”
”By your word.”
Ascalon turns around and faces Lorelai, a hint of concern briefly flashing across his face. He wants nothing more than to keep Lorelai caged within his castle where no harm can come for her, to have her beautiful gaze look upon him and only him, but his responsibility wins against his avarice. Lorelai is a warrior just like the others, and to prevent her from being where she thrives most will dull her magnificent shine.
“Lorelai, you’ve endured much ever since your return,” he says while hesitance coats the back of his throat. “You have every right to excuse yourself from this advance, but your strength will provide a much needed boon to our forces if you decide to march with us. You have even managed to resurrect The Eclipse, a feat that no other Throne has achieved before you. Although you have not recovered your memories, your nature remains kind and stalwart as ever, and so I plead to you: Will you join us to rid this world of Xeros’s ambition once and for all?”
Lorelai pauses for a moment as the anticipation gnaws away at Ascalon’s mind, the obsession within his heart threatening to take over.
“Of course I will fight,” she murmurs after a seemingly endless pause. “Do you remember what I said before? If my presence can be of comfort to you, then I will stay by your side as long as you wish. Whether it be on the battlefield or the city, I shall remain humanity’s guardian. As I always have. As I always will.”
Ascalon freezes for a moment before a soft chuckle escapes his lips. His mind clears, and the dark temptation within leaves his body. Yes, this is how it should be. Fighting together as equals, as partners.
“Thank you, Lorelai. Truly.”
Ascalon materializes his wings and bathes the room in its illuminance. Orange and Amber fill the center of the wings while black veins spread across the surface. The border is black as well, while tiny white sparkles glitter on the edge. Only the Ruler of Polus is able to manifest these wings, and they have transferred to Kings and Queens since the nation’s beginning. They represent the populace’s wish of reaching the starry sky above, and their fervor remains ever so passionate through the ages. Perhaps it is finally time for their coveted desire to come true. Ascalon must make it come true. For the Kings and Queens of past, for the people that can never return, and for the efforts of those who cling on to hope no matter how dire.
“We will prevail, that is my decree, and we shall usher in a new age of peace. Together. United as one!”