Maketh muttered. “Traves… still lying through your teeth?” He struggled to sit, a smile threatening to appear on his face. He had heard the entire exchange between Traves and that kid as they were leaving. Jorish was he called? Maketh shook the thought out of his mind as he sat down, pain blasting at his chest.

 “Damn Traves, ‘blasted my heart out’? ‘He’s a Monarch he will live’? When will you stop lying.” Maketh knew, unless you were a Monarch specializing in self-recovery, recovering from a burst heart is almost impossible. A person’s heart represents his core, his life force.

 Yet he was still standing, it didn’t take a genius to know what that meant. That punk went easy with that last strike. Maketh knew he had lost that fight completely. Years earlier when he first met the Traveler, he felt like an unstoppable force, always full of tricks to escape any situation. He might be still just a Candidate, yet he was much stronger than back then.

 Maketh thought about himself, what have I been doing those last few years? The answer was clear, regardless of how much he tried to ignore it or forget about it. I did nothing. Maketh remembered, years ago, as he journeyed across the world to get stronger. When he felt he was strong enough, he decided to go back to his home and save it. The south was naught but villages barely got by. Only a few would survive the endless heat, drought, and hunger only to be killed by stray Kriels or another horror of the desert.

 Maketh fist tightened. He had wanted to give his people a home, and he had succeeded. The cities were a sign of a new age for the world, no longer would life be an uphill clash against nature to survive. Maketh forced himself to stand, ignoring the protests of his chest and legs. I have succeeded, then why has it always felt as if I had failed?

 That question plagued Maketh for endless years. He staggered slowly towards the throne as he sat, not bothering to change from his armor. Maketh could always see the conflicts and the political issues going on, but he didn’t know what to do. The Traveler said it many years past… I am an idiot. Maketh laughed at how funny fate could be. He didn’t want to rule, all he wanted was to give his people a sanctuary. To make their lives no worse than the grand cities in the central lands, no less comfortable. Life was cruel, as it forced him to sit upon this cursed throne, else everything he built would collapse.

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 Yet, he had to accept and turn a blind eye on everything that was going on. He didn’t want it all to go down because of being too strict, yet he now understood that by doing nothing… he hurt others even more.

 He finally understood. The sun-touched cities were not free. Not yet. The face of Jorish, as he looked at him in defiance, despite his presence… It got stuck in his mind, refusing to leave. And the other kid, a member of Malik’s family huh. With how hard he worked to let his family live in peace in that village… Seeing her outside must have meant something had happened and ruined all his hard work.

 Aren’t they my people as well? Yes, yes they were. I am, indeed, an idiot.

 Yet, I have decided to take this path. Maketh thought as the look in his eyes changed. I have started a job. It is time to finish it.

 Minutes later, Hjorn woke up. He immediately hustled in front of Maketh, bowing down. God, this kid is way too good for someone like me. Maketh had forced him unconscious, yet here he was. Maketh felt guilt eat at him as the last years went through his mind. I have not done you well, kid.

 Maketh looked at Hjorn as he smiled. “Stand, Hjorn.”

 Hjorn stood as he spoke. “Your will, my lord.”

 Maketh thought of that kid, Zenith, who was often assigned as a guard around the castle. He could feel his look of adoration and admiration. He could feel a hint of disappointment at times as well, and he understood why. He could see a hint of hope as well there. Maketh normally felt bad about disappointing such people who believed in him. Yet, he was the kind of person he needed. The kind of person who can help him cause the changes, that would shake the very foundations he built.

 Maketh looked serious as he shouted, his voice echoing through the room. “Zenith.”

 Moments later, the guard outside stumbled as he rushed inside bowing.

 “Hjorn, Zenith…”

 “Will you join me, as we reclaim the Sun-touched cities?”

 Hjorn bowed even lower, his lips showing a hint of a smile, while Zenith’s eyes were filled with tears as emotions burst from his face.

 Maketh wasn’t surprised, he could almost read his thoughts.

 The Sovereign has returned.