Prince Sandalphon looked on as the supposed monumental event turned into a drinking, scheming, and flirting competition. Looking up from his small throne, he saw his parents dancing above the crowd, their love and joy falling like snow upon the unsuspecting crowd.
'Father's passive spells are activating again,' he noted with small smile.
His father was known as the brave king, despite being a Wizard, he would always be in the front lines of battle. He would always be found in the barracks personally training his men and is always quite unrestrained even in meetings.
So none would assume that the king had more passive-acting spells in his repertoire than he had actual battle spells. Having a section of the Archives as an Insignia did put him at an advantage; his father's grimoire held the Immortal Archive's Magic Section, though most spells were incompatible with the Sovereign's innate magic, the former king still held a massive library of spells to pull from.
Looking inside his soul, he saw his own Insignia, [A Witness' Journal], and thought about the future.
'Would I be able to hold as much magic as my fathers?', he mulled as he slowly grew excited about the prospects of performing grandiose spells.
He remembered the frozen look of his mother as his insignia materialized. A bout of confusion sprung unto him as the idea of a defective Insignia hung around his head. She saw her mother shake her head, and told him:
'That right there is a part of the Archives, I don't know what part or which section it holds, but that is a unique Insignia that none of your ancestors have ever held.'
A burst of pure wonder and excitement rushed from within him as he digested his mother's words.
Before coming to the Gala, he experimented with it, channeling mana through it, performing spells with it as the foci, and more. However no action he did ever activated it. He tried to pry the scroll open to read its contents, but he could not. He used his almost-unused[Vision] spell to try and read the inside of the scroll only to find blank paper inside.
Even with these failures, none could stop the prince's fervor at having his own Insignia. None could stop a boy's dreams not even-
'Duke Malik and his cronies,' the prince thought as he was snapped back to reality.
Watching his brother interact with the nobles, he could only wince at the noblemen's blatant disrespect of their new King. His brother, King Heremiel, had always been a patient man, often even mistaken for a soft person. So one could not disguise their surprise at his short temper at this event.
Fortunately, his brother held total control of his immediate surroundings. None of his voice, nor that of the nobles', left his area of control. However, the more sensitive and observant ones saw this, even both of his parents threw curious glances along the King's way.
Glancing back at the King as the nobles left, he stood up and tried to casually talk to his brother.
"That was very... Uh, intense," he spoke to his brother.
"It was, but I lost that battle. I may have let my anger take control of me," a sad and tired voice, his brother told him. White curly locks flowed from underneath his brother's crown, his clothes were formal garments made of exquisite fur and velvet silk, a shining silver scepter floated around his throne as if a celestial body around a star.
"Enough about those termites, how is your very first King's Gala experience?" a change in his brother's tone told him, his brother was distracting himself.
"Uhhh... I don't think you should call them termites, brothe- err, I mean, my King," being asked about the King's Gala, reminded him he was in front of the Lost Realm's new King and quickly bowed to his brother.
His brother, clearly dismissive of his very late formal greeting, laughed and told him, "Well, technically, they're just living off of our land. Our ancestors built this realm. A stepping stone for mortals to become true gods. But these nobles just live off of us and build houses and destroy everything around them, exactly like common termites do."
Slow panic rose out of the prince as he belately realized their conversation was within earshot of more than a handful of nobles. Noticing his brother's composure, he assumed he kept their conversation from getting out.
Prince Sandalphon's concern grew even more so for his brother was not usually this disturbed. An expression of clear unease must have shown on his face, for his brother to comment, "I'm fine Sands, nothing a few drinks couldn't cure."
A slow ebbing of anxiety grew in the Prince's chest as he saw his brother asked the attendant to fetch him the strongest liquor they had. Without even flinching, his brother looked him in the eye, with a sudden finality, too serious and heavy to clearly be taken as a joke, the newly appointed King said:
"Let me be, Sands, it's not like I'll die the next day."
A statement so final and concerning yet delivered so ironically held the prince at an impasse; should he further inquire his brother what he really meant or should he move on and take it as what his brother wanted: a joke?
Slowly, the prince bowed and stepped away, far too concerned and troubled to have noticed a passing expression of the King's guilt.
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Knight-Hunter Bismia had too much on her mind lately, as did her fellow Knights of the Royal Throne. The newly appointed King has changed. This all started when the Sovereign and the Queen Mother held a private audience with the former prince Heremiel. Since that day, it seemed like the prince held funerals every day. Each day he grieved no one. Some days he would quietly wallow in sadness and often only the closest of his retainers would notice. Some days he grew a temper and threw tantrums so subtle that his victims would be none the wiser.
The newly appointed King slowly grew impatient and irritable, as if the world was disturbing his peace. Yet the Sovereign and the Queen Mother had let him wallow as if a grieving child left alone on his own. She knew that was not the case as the Sovereign had always visited and dragged the King around.
Still, scenes of the King so awfully quiet in the throne room unnerved each of her team members. They knew King Heremiel since he was born, as he was the Crown Prince and was assigned a Knight Squadron that shall protect him until his ascension as King.
Heremiel was not like this, his quiet was calming, his voice soothing, and his hands always helping. Yet, now, he was none of the above. Her fellow knights surmised it must have been from his nerves, yet now, they weren't so sure.
Shaking her head, she focused on her mission: capturing and monitoring two trespassers in the Opal Palace.
She glanced around the unused lightless servant's passages the duo has used to enter the Palace, she noted to herself to report this to her superiors. Following the pair in the labyrinth made of stone and wood, she made her way to her targets.
"-don't know where we are, I think we took a wrong turn somewhere," a quiet voice murmured.
"What do you mean?? You said you had these passages memorized!?" a distraught voice said on the verge of shouting.
"But these walls were not here in the map, it was supposed to go straight to the maid's chambers from here." the quiet voice became even more soft and questioning.
"That's because, we had the former maid's chambers turned into another pantry." Knight Bismia has said.
The pair clearly frightened, the smaller one screeched and jumped from where they were crouching and the taller one shouted, "Who's there?! Where did you come from?!"
If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
Noting their surprise at her sudden presence, she was not surprised as she had been assigned as a Hunter for special purposes. None would know her presence unless she wanted them to.
"Good day civilians, I am Knight-Hunter Bismia of the Royal Throne's Knights Order, are you fully aware you have trespassed unto the Pravil family land?" she stated, as is the proper procedure in an inquest.
She regarded the duo in front of her, the smaller one holding a small mushroom torch and the other one holding a dagger in front of her. They both had auburn hair, riddled with black patterns, and were smaller in size compared to the usual beings near the Pravil Estate. Both were in defensive combat-ready positions.
"Wha- I-", the taller one stuttered as they heard her order, she noticed them glancing around the dark passage and quickly noticing her lack of company.
"We can take her, she's alone," she heard the taller one whisper to their companion.
"I don't think we can, she's from an order," the smaller one surmised as she whispered back.
"We should all calm down. I will not hurt you if you shall come with me calmly." she quickly interrupted their conversation and she tried to step forward.
Clearly spooked even further, the taller one brandished their knife around. "Don't come near!"
She spotted the smaller one looking around for a way out. She stepped forward, her training flowing in her body.
"STO-," the taller one shouted before Bismia closed the gap in between them. She grabbed the wrist where the weapon was and twisted. She put her foot in between their legs, pulled the cloaked person in one direction, lifted them with her foot before putting the individual in a neutral hold underneath her.
With the taller one obviously neutralized, she looked to the smaller one. She saw the smaller of the pair shaking, obviously scared and panicking.
She tried to deescalate and calm the other one. "Relax, she's unhurt. Dizzy, maybe, but unhurt."
The smaller one stared at her before nodding, "Okay, we'll come with you."
"WHAT?! NO, F**K YOU!", the pinned one spat as she cursed her companion.
"I WON'T COME WITH YOU! ARE YOU F**KING INSANE? I'M NOT GOING TO JAIL VOLUNTARILY!" the taller figure squirmed and tried to free her pinned arm.
"I'm Ais, and she's Sora. We didn't mean to trespass, we just came upon a ruin on the outskirts of the city and tried to follow where it led us. We're sorry," the smaller one introduced themselves and explained. If not for her experience with diplomats, she would have definitely believed this child.
"DON'T TELL HER MY NA-,"
Moving her hand swiftly, Bismia put the taller one, Sora, to sleep with [Hypnosis]. Carrying her in a shoulder carry, she motioned the smaller one to walk in front of her.
"So.. where are we going?", the smaller one, Ais, asked her.
"We're going to go to the Dungeon Master and keep you there for a few hours until we validate your statements," Bismia replied.
A lull fell upon them as they walked from the deeper parts of the labyrinth unto the palace proper. Noticing the passageway they were treading, she couldn't help but notice they were passing through the same paths they did a while ago. Checking the air for magics, she detected none besides the Palace's atmospheric mana.
"Ais, can I ask you to touch the right wall as we walk?", Bismia noted the expression on Ais face.
'A sharp one,' Bismia guessed that Ais also noticed the strange phenomenon.
Bismia saw Ais nod as they dragged their fingers atop the right wall. They continued to walk as she stared in front of her. Slowly shadows seemed to walk towards her from afar. Slowly keeping her pace, she saw her now-companion stare at the shadowy figures.
As they kept walking, keeping their eyes trained on the figures in front of them, creeping darkness lurched from outside her vision. Noticing Ais was still in front of her, the torch she held no longer kept a glow and the darkness consumed their peripheral vision.
Glancing back to the figures, prickling sensations ran up her body as she saw the two figures in front of her, the same expression she held.
It was Ais, Sora, and herself.
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Heremiel wondered if the Dungeon Masters had processed the two tresspassers Knight-Hunter Bismia followed.
'Bismia's competent, she probably is on her way back by now,' he thought to himself as he drank another cup of liquor.
Dancing towards the dancefloor he saw his father and mother alight the floor and make way to his position. Sighing and sitting up straight, he looked to the gazes of both the most powerful people in the whole realm.
"King Khamael," his father and mother slightly bowed their head, as appropriate.
Seeing his father glance towards the cup he currently held, his father grinned and said, "Having fun, Khamael?"
Rolling his eyes at his father's antics, he joked, "Yes, father. I especially like the apple juice." He looked towards his mother, seeing her genuine smile reassured him. Yet, an expression of distraught flashed in her mother's lips before she schooled her expression once more.
"We need to talk. All three of us, privately." His mother said as she mouthed a different statement. Possibly to distract those staring at their family conversation.
He nodded. He glanced to the Head Captain and gestured that the royal family shall be taking a break. The Head Captain nodded before he announces the break.
The trio got up and walked to a hallway behind the Throne. He glanced to his mother and caught her wringing her hands before his father's large hands placed his on hers. The king once again trained his eyes on the hallway, 'Lovebirds.'
He noticed Sandalphon's absence and asked the Sovereign and Queen, "Should we include Sands? I think it would be unfair to him if we left him in the dark."
His parents stared at each other, as they considered his statement.
"I believe he should be abstained from being part of this conversation," his mother said.
"Wouldn't it be good for the boy to be included in this? A part of me pains to see him made ignorant of his future by his own parents," his father argued as his eyes suddenly looked a bit grimmer.
Sighing, his mother quieted, then said, "I love him too Kham, however, how will he take it?"
The sudden silence after her words were filled as his mother's next words slowly came.
"How will I take it? Will you free me the burden of having to tell my child he is to die tomorrow? Will you be able to free me from the guilt of being a mother?"
From a slow crawl of emotion cameforth his mother's words. Heremiel remembered the tears of his mother after she told him the hard truth. He remembered the pain she radiated as she told him the whole truth, her Vision, her skill with Time Magic, her Avez' abilities.
"I can't take your burden from you, my love. But I can help, please my dear, let me," a gentle voice said as his father's hand cupped his mother's hand.
He remembered the denial and anger he had shown her, he remembered vividly his father's anger at him as he showed the worst of himself before his both of his parents. She had done what she can for everyone's best, yet her oldest son had said words too hurtful to be taken back.
Even now, months after, he was still filled with guilt. He had made up with his mother, yet everything had eaten him up. The death of his innocence had weighed down his mother still. Even now, with her other son, she would relive the experience again.
"I'll tell him." Heremiel spoke before any of his parents had spoken.
"I'll tell him, he trusts me. He knows something is wrong, and if I were to be the one to tell him, he may take it a little bit better," 'than I did', Heremiel almost said.
His father held a soft look as he stared at him. His mother held her tongue, as an argument on the tip of her tongue for a burden she wished to bear alone threatened to escape.
"Okay," his mother acquiesced, as he looked on at his defeated parents. A far cry from the happiness they exhumed only a while ago.
"We can find and tell Sandalphon later, but we need to talk. All three of us first," his mother stated once more.
"Okay," both Heremiel and his father said.
"Someone is coming," her mother's eyes sharpened. All three of them moved on and walked towards the King's office, guided by Heremiel.
"That certain someone seems to be shadowing us, shall I go check?" his father noted as his countenance got darker with the thought, and sent a curious look to his mother.
"You can, the timeline has gone awry anyways, and the last best path we can take is one I cannot forsee wholly," his mother replied as they slowly turned their brisk walk into a saunter.
His father hummed as he noted this. "It's Sands," he noted, a small smile on his lips. "He seems to have gotten better at his soul contol, I might have almost mistaken him for a young servant."
"He might have seen us all having a serious conversation and decided to follow for now. As much as my brother loves intruding upon people, he knows when not to barge in," Heremiel stated.
His father's smile suddenly disappeared and turned into a frown. "Duke Isla is approaching Sands," a quick turn and a fast stride was all he saw his father do after his statement. He and his mother shared a look and slowly followed behind.
As they walked towards the slowly ambling Sandalphon who was clearly flustered at their change of direction, he thought about the Duke, who was clearly suspicious of the Royal Family's sudden actions for the better half of the century. Duke Isla had been their follower for a long time, as he used to be his father's close friend during the former king's youth.
They grew apart, but still remained on better terms than one would expect. Yet, half a century ago, when his mother and father learned of the truth, questionable actions of the Royal couple threw off majority of the Noble Houses: Lowering the taxes, limiting the amount of goods flowing throughout the land, the King's Conquest for getting more land, the persecution of multiple noble houses, and much much more.
Duke Isla had been one of the more vocal members of the Noble Houses that questioned the actions of the Royal Family. Even directly asking the king the reasons for his actions. Yet the Former king and queen had remained mum, and continued their actions.
Throughout the years, results showed: Magical Drought that brought the ambient mana to the abrupt lowest was alleviated as the Royal Couple had increased the release of the Opal Palace' atmospheric mana, which slowly trickled outwards. An indirect result for the Royal Family increasing the palace's mana intake throughout the year. The revelation of the noble houses' attempted coup d'état. As revealed by an insider, who was involved with the persecution of multiple nobles, a few decades ago.
All this brought the clamoring nobles to a slow hush. Yet the distrust the the Pravil Family had sown, was now ripe to reap. Both of Heremiel's parents sought not to remedy this, as they knew, it would not come to pass.
For the only thing that will come to pass is rebirth.