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The Sun of the Citadel: The First Prophecy
Offering Box, Offering Orders

Offering Box, Offering Orders

This particular temple wasn’t used much. Some locals had even said that the God of the temple had stopped coming down to visit because of how little it was used. Or was it the other way around? That the God had stopped coming, so everyone stopped using it? Regardless, although it wasn’t used much, it was still well-kept. After all, it was the resident temple of the capital, Ariostead.

Perhaps there was a very specific reason that this very specific temple had stopped being used, in truth — rather than all sorts of grand celebrations for other events that other temples oft participated in, recently, in the past hundred years, only funerals had been held there. Very, very specific funerals, too: The emperors, the empresses, the military-policemen fallen in duty, the few princes or princesses that have died far too young, and so on. All in all, the temple was deeply connected to the royal family of the Anglion Empire. Something with an unspoken, yet incredibly limited usage was bound to fall out of favor with the common people.

Today, of course, was absolutely no different.

The man stood near the wall, falling slightly behind his commander. He chewed on his lip, keeping his gaze towards the floor. He couldn’t help, though, when such a gaze would travel to the ornate box in front of him. Covered in deep, rich browns and speckled with gold pieces, it was as if the Empress herself had died. But no — no, of course not. Her coffin would be much grander. Her service, even grander yet. He swallowed, mentally knocking on wood that such a thing wouldn’t happen anytime soon. If it did, he wouldn’t forgive himself, after all.

The thing about the guards of the royal family was that the position, not unlike the royal family itself, was inherited. Descendant after descendant, no matter if you were a man, woman, or anything else — if you were born a Dion, you were expected to become a guard for the royal family. There was no question, no ifs, no buts. Parents were hard on their children so that they would grow up to surpass them in protecting all the secrets of the Empire, but there was also a sort of specific love given to such children — “This may not be what you want to do now, but you will see the glory and honor for yourself once I have passed on.”

So why was it that he couldn’t see any sort of such love from the son of the man in the casket?

That son’s eyes were as cold as they seemed. A daunting, light purple, contrasting the white hair that framed his face. Even as he spoke fondly of his father, his expression remained the same — deadpan, flat, silent.

He knew the son’s name and a few pieces of information — Apollo Dion, son of Alaric and Giselle Dion. Giselle had died quite a while ago, when Apollo was just a young boy, in an unfortunate accident that Alaric tried to cover up quickly and efficiently. The actual accident couldn’t be determined to anyone except those strictly given information about it, but it put a lot of strain on Alaric for several different reasons — he could see why he would want to cover it up, so as to not bring unnecessary attention or strain upon Apollo, as well.

There was no reason to cover up the death of Alaric Dion, however — despite the fact it was a suicide, as the whispers around the man and the son and the commander had been about just before the funeral itself had begun. The man heavily cared about it being a suicide, but he hoped, from the bottom of his heart, that it wasn’t such a thing.

The peculiar thing about this suicide was that so little was known about how it happened. Apollo, who had been the one to find him, had been questioned as a prime suspect, by the man’s commander himself, but nothing came from it. There were no other likely suspects at this time, and it was ultimately ruled as a suicide.

Apollo took a seat near the side of the casket, bowing his head and folding his hands in front of him. Everyone else followed suit, including the man by the wall, standing next to his commanding officer. He swallowed again, thickly, the image of the ornate, golden casket burned into the backs of his eyelids.

Someone grabbed his arm, pulling on him. He tried to shake the perpetrator off, but they just pulled harder.

“Halcy,” came the harsh, hushed command, and the man’s eyes snapped open. He looked over to his left, only to see that same commanding officer pulling on him, tugging him away through the door to the empty corridors of the temple.

“S-Sir Adel, where are—?”

“Keep your voice down,” Adel interrupted. Halcy shut up, as if he were truly incapable of just ‘keeping his voice down’ and knowing that, biting his lip as the smaller man kept tugging him, all the way until they were out of the temple.

The sun was setting, Halcy noticed. Setting on such a solemn service for a great man loved by many. The Dion family suffered another great loss, and Halcy briefly wondered how Apollo was going to make up for it. He’d need to get married soon, have an heir, and...

“... cy. Halcy!”

Pulled from his daydream, Halcy snapped to attention, straightening his back. “Yes, sir...?” He sounded unsure — but unsure of what? Well, he had just spaced out for a few moments, so the commander could have said anything and Halcy would have missed it.

Adel stared up at him with the lone eye, the other one covered by a single, black, embroidered eyepatch. Halcy stared back down at him, arms to his side, waiting for orders. But no orders came. At least, none that Halcy was expecting.

“Get your hair cut,” Adel said simply.

Halcy immediately pulled his hair over his shoulder as Adel turned heel, combing his fingers through the white strands. It was long, but it was kept neat and was well taken care of. Lost in his thoughts again, he nearly missed Adel turn heel once more. He followed closely, all the way to the gate of the temple.

Halcy skidded to a stop, nearly running into Adel’s back. Adel peered up at him over his shoulder, through the one eye that was visible, then looked back forward. Halcy followed his line of sight, and his eyes landed on a peculiar, red box sitting near the entrance.

The box itself was slightly elevated, sitting on a stool of sorts, and it was rather run-down, slightly different from the rest of the well-kept-but-not-used temple. There was a marking on the front — a singular sun symbol.

Adel approached it, and Halcy followed, hands on Adel’s shoulders. Adel pulled something from inside his coat — his wallet — and dropped a few golden, shining coins into the peculiar, red box. They made clinking noises as they dropped, suggesting Adel wasn’t the first one to do this.

“I must’ve forgotten when I came in,” Adel muttered. He put his wallet away, shrugging Halcy off of him. “Did you offer anything?”

His tone suggested if Halcy didn’t offer anything when they came in, he should do so right now.

“Oh, I—” Halcy scrambled for his own wallet and dropped a bill and a few silver coins hesitantly. He looked into the wallet — now completely empty — with a sort of solemn look on his face. Adel must’ve noticed, for he sighed, pulled out his wallet again, and handed Halcy a few bills.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

“At least so you can eat. Honestly, what do you spend your money on?”

Halcy’s face lit up, but he shook his head. “I can’t accept your money, sir...”

“You can. You will.” Adel stuffed the money into Halcy’s wallet himself, then closed the wallet by placing both of his hands over Halcy’s. “There. Don’t ever say I don’t do anything for you.”

“I-I would never say that!”

“I know. I was making a joke.”

Halcy fell silent. Adel smiled at him, his hands seeming to linger on Halcy’s a little bit longer than they should. It wasn’t like Halcy even noticed, though, as they were taken away quickly enough, the gesture covered up by a cough.

“Anyway,” Adel continued, “let’s go on. I have things to tell you, still.”

He turned away from the box, bowing slightly before exiting through the gates of the temple. Halcy, dutiful, followed.

The day was dreary, as the sun continued setting. Quiet raindrops fell onto his skin, but it wasn’t anything pressing, just a sprinkle. He held a hand up to shield his eyes from the clouded-over sun, but it wasn’t like he even had to do that. He just did it out of habit, as Ariostead was usually rather sunny and clear.

Following Adel’s heels closely, they began to make their way off the property of the temple and onto the actual streets of Ariostead, towards the Jackals’ HQ. Halcy moved to walk next to him in order to listen better.

“There’s been a surplus of Angeons lately,” Adel said.

The Jackals were a military group, mobilized by either the royal family or Adel, the commander, himself, situated all throughout Anglion. Though they were labeled as “military”, it was only in name, as they acted more like police than anything. Ariostead was quite tranquil, so the only real threats were the monsters called Angeons that lived beyond the edges of the city. Sometimes, they would bleed past the walls, tainting and destroying.

The Angeons were inhuman. Completely and utterly so. Though they could take the forms of humans or at the very least possess one, they were anything but — cruel, arrogant, and callous. It was often said that if someone became hostile all of a sudden, they were often possessed.

That’s where the Jackals would come in. Other than what could only be called as exorcisms, they also performed general peacekeeping, utilizing magic in order to destroy the Angeons that dared to even think about broaching the walls of the city.

HALCY: “A surplus?”

ADEL: “That’s correct. They’ve moved past the walls several times this past week. It’s become so bad that... Alaric himself had been investigating.”

HALCY: “Ah, so that’s where he was... There was an attack on Amadeus, too, wasn’t there?”

Adel nodded. “Right. That’s what began his investigation. He did always think lowly of us, hm?” He laughed bitterly.

Halcy hadn’t even noticed that, when Alaric was alive. He had been cold to him, but he had always gotten the job done quickly and efficiently, so he supposed he was just like that with everyone. But then again, Alaric was quite beloved by most, if not everyone else. Halcy rarely had contact with him, anyway, as Alaric preferred to go straight to the Head Commander rather than Halcy, the Vice Commander.

Most others preferred Halcy, however.

They walked through the winding streets towards the tower in the distance, still.

ADEL: “Regardless, we have reason to believe it was an Angeon attack that killed him, and not a human. The defenses of the walls have been lessening, even though we have dedicated people to erect barriers...”

Halcy stopped walking, thinking for a moment, then hurried to catch up. “So it’s easier for them to get in and get out...”

ADEL: “Yes. I personally believe they’ve been destroying one section of the wall, in a blind spot of the barriers. There are only three blind spots in the entirety of Ariostead. Do you know where?”

HALCY: “... One is the Jackals’ HQ, isn’t it? But I don’t know the other, I’m afraid.”

ADEL: “That one is right.”

To the left and behind the Jackals’ Headquarters lied a bridge out of the city. It was closed off due to being too dangerous to cross. Rather than get it fixed, the city just kept it closed. However, this made it even more dangerous — as the Jackals rarely even paid attention to it, it became known as the “Crossing of Angels”.

Despite the name and assumptions, only when the gates on the front were opened did it allow Angeons to actually cross over and into the city.

But people were curious. They always managed to find a way to break the lock and open it up. Thankfully, it wasn’t often; since the HQ was there close by, there were always patrollers, and they were able to seal the gates once more or scare away any ne’er-do-wells from even attempting in the first place.

But the gates on that hadn’t been opened in a very long while.

The second blind spot was a forest, named the Unknown Grove, to the northwest of the city. It extended past the walls of the city — the walls were actually built at the beginning and at the end of the forest. The forest had magical properties, filled with fog and seemingly always changing how it was set up. As such, a barrier couldn’t be maintained on it. This is where most Angeon managed to come in. However, it was heavily guarded at the edges — most Jackals, and never citizens, were allowed to enter the forest. They had to wait for the Angeon to come out, but they could be missed on occasion.

One other blind spot in the barriers and city walls was, in genuine terms, the actual entrance of Ariostead. The entrance was at the very front of a forest path, a path that stretched for meters upon meters. Standing at the entrance to the city, one couldn’t see the end of the path, actually. It had been made in such a way that it would scare off anyone with second thoughts about hurting the city — after all, they had time to think about what their actions would be, so those with lesser hearts and resolve would inevitably turn back and leave. Only, they couldn’t —

The barriers had to be lowered every time someone came in or exited. There were certain times of the day — and never during the night — where any one person could leave or come, when the barriers would be down. Not only did the forest path scare away some people, but it acted as a queue. So when someone immediately tried to leave, skipping the line, they would get in trouble anyway.

But that sort of thing didn’t deter the Angeon, completely composed and put together enough to bypass the entrance and forest. Although most Angeon tried to get in via the Unknown Grove, certain higher-leveled Angeon managed to get in through the entrance.

They were growing smarter, more organized.

They were becoming more human.

HALCY: “So they had to come in through either the entrance or the Grove, right? In order to make it to the palace where Alaric would have been most likely, it would have been the entrance. The walls of the entrance are closer to the very middle of the city.”

ADEL: “That’s where you’re wrong.”

Halcy paused. “What?”

Adel smiled, only very, very small, at him. “You’re wrong, Halcy. Alaric had requested that he enter the Grove on the day that he was found.”

It took Halcy a moment to let it click. Or a second moment — perhaps a third. “He did? So he went into the forest...”

ADEL: “And he brought something out with him. Perhaps inside him, as there was little evidence to suggest there was a struggle to imply a second person.”

HALCY: “... So it’s actually a murder.”

His wish had come true, but at what cost? A murder, by an Angeon smart enough to know what it was doing?

ADEL: “Right, so—”

HALCY: “Ah—! Sir Adel...”

Adel raised a brow, stopping at the entrance to the HQ. He had had his hand out as if to open the door, but he lowered it, turning his head to look at Halcy.

Halcy swallowed. “Doesn’t that mean that the suspect, or, Angeon, or... Well, do you think whatever it is that killed Alaric is still in Ariostead?”

The other man gave it a moment’s thought. “... You’ve really said something right this time.” He turned fully towards Halcy. “Alright, here are orders. It may have tried to escape through the Grove, so go on ahead and investigate. I’ll dispatch a squad to you in order to help.”

Halcy nodded, straightening his back.

ADEL: “Meanwhile, I’ll dispatch more officers around the city and at the entrance.”

HALCY: “Are you going to issue an official alert?”

Adel thought about it again. “... Not yet. That’ll just let it know that we’re onto it... and it’ll cause the citizens panic. All in all, it’d make it harder.”

Halcy nodded again, then saluted. “Very well, sir. I’ll do my best.”

Adel gave another sort of smile, very small, one that he never showed to anyone else but Halcy, and disappeared into the headquarters without another word.

After Adel had left, he let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. Halcy turned, and then he immediately stopped.

He had to go where?!

And alone?!

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