History of the Empire

The next day, the family went to a museum that had once been an imperial palace. This palace was so huge that its area exceeded the size of three Moscow capitals. Mom, Dad, the children and Grandma Marie walked slowly along wide corridors that seemed to never end. The ceilings, high and decorated with mosaics, created a sense of ancient grandeur.

- Look, - said Grandma Marie, turning to Mom, - what a majestic palace. It is larger than your entire capital. It is hard to even imagine that this was the home of one person.

Mom walked alongside with a surprised look, examining the tall columns and massive doors that led into closed halls.

“I can’t believe a place like this even exists,” she said quietly, her voice full of admiration. “How could someone build something so big?”

The children walked a little ahead, looking in admiration at the paintings and statues. They held hands with their father, who told them the history of the empire.

“Grandma,” the girl suddenly asked with genuine curiosity, “so you lived here? Did you walk along these corridors?”

Grandma smiled slightly, her eyes sparkling with memories.

“Just one day, my dear. I have lived here only one day,” she replied. “And even in that time I have not seen a tenth of its grandeur. And even now,” she added with a hint of mystery, “not all of the palace is open to ordinary people. They say that something important is hidden deep within the palace, inaccessible to prying eyes.

Dad, looking around, said:

“Of course, I haven’t been here before, but I heard that the palace is divided into three large parts.

Grandma nodded, smiling at her thoughts:

“If my memory serves me right,” she began, frowning slightly as she recalled, “these wereAurea, Solaris and Eterna.Each of these parts was unique. And the palace itself was called the Temple of Eternity. A beautiful, majestic place.

The children simultaneously repeated the name with delight:

—Temple of Eternity… Beautiful!

Grandmother stopped, and the family followed suit. They found themselves in front of a portrait of Emperor Cassian in his full imperial uniform. In the portrait, Cassian stood proudly in his majesty, his golden eyes looking into the distance, and around him stood people kneeling before his might. Next to him stood two beast-men: one a fox, with red ears and tail, the other a wolf, with a powerful figure and gray eyes.

Mom looked at the portrait for a long time, then turned to grandma and asked:

— I keep thinking... Why are the beastmen avoiding us now? Why are we so rarely seeing them these days?

Grandma laughed, her voice mocking.

“Not us, but you,” she said with a sly smile. “Because you’re ugly. I still don’t understand why my son married you.”

Dad, trying to contain his laughter, said carefully:

- Mom, calm down, please.

Grandma waved her hand.

“Okay, okay, I won’t joke,” she replied, but her eyes were still laughing. “However,” she added, “the beastmen do meet less often with people. Perhaps they just prefer to stay in their forests and mountains.”

The children, not paying attention to the adults’ teasing, ran up to their grandmother and, pulling her by the hand, asked:

- Grandma, tell us about one beastman! That you remember!

The grandmother thought for a moment, looking at the portrait, and then, sighing heavily, said:

- Okay, I’ll tell you a story...

The family continued to walk slowly down the corridors, and the grandmother began to tell her story, her voice becoming softer, immersing everyone in memories of the distant past.

- It was many years ago.

Renard, a fox-beast with red hair and bright green eyes, stood near Emperor Cassian, who had finally allowed himself to rest in a hammock swinging in the quiet, peaceful garden.Eterny - the most secluded part of the palaceThere was complete silence all around, broken only by the whisper of the wind in the treetops and the quiet splash of the fountain.

Cassian, the Eternal Ruler, had just finished three sleepless nights of work, deep in his work. His white hair lay softly on the pillow, his eyes were closed, and his breathing was regular. Renard crossed his arms over his chest, watching the Emperor, who had finally allowed himself to relax.

“Finally, this stubborn man has gone to bed,” Renard thought, frowning. “Three days without sleep... Even immortals need rest. And only now he allows himself to relax.”

Renard sighed softly and glanced around, noticing a small cloth lying on the bench. He carefully approached the hammock, trying not to wake the Emperor, and gently covered his shoulders. “You’ll catch a cold,” he muttered under his breath with a small smile. This act of care was clearly not typical of Renard, but deep down he felt responsible for Cassian.

Renard turned and took his place again, glancing out at the garden. His green eyes glittered in the light filtering through the foliage, but there was a playful sparkle in their depths. His next plan was already swirling in his head.

“So, who should I choose as my victim today?” he wondered, leaning slightly against the tree that stood next to the hammock. He had a natural gift for turning any serious moment into a joke, and Renard got real pleasure from his pranks.

“Marcus?” was the first thought that flashed through his mind. This captain of the guard was so serious and straightforward that any jokes at his expense brought Renard a special pleasure. “Oh, yes... Marcus hates it when I start joking with him. How funny he is when he tries to be so stern. Maybe I should hide his favorite sabre or plant a fake note about a supposedly important meeting?”

But then Renard smiled even wider.

“Or maybe it would be better to make fun of Sebastian? The butler is always too polite and calm, it is so difficult to upset him. He is a real mystery. I can arrange for him to meet some fake “guest” or a secret order from the emperor, and see how he reacts.”

Renard looked thoughtfully at his reflection in the fountain water.

However, why not try something new? Maybe put on a little show for all the palace servants? Or something more fun for the courtiers at the next meeting? - his thoughts ran faster, turning into a bizarre kaleidoscope of plans and jokes.

A mischievous glint came into Renard’s eyes. He sat up, casting one last glance at Cassian, who was sleeping peacefully, and chuckled quietly to himself.

“Yes, this is going to be a fun day,” he thought. “But I won’t overdo it. Although, if I do overdo it… well, it won’t be such a bad thing. Someone has to keep the palace merry, right?”

He continued to think over his plans, waiting for the right moment to put them into action, leaving Cassian to enjoy a rare moment of peace.

His thoughts took him back to the distant past, to the day he first met the Emperor. It was like yesterday. A small boy named Michael was kneeling before Cassian, not daring to raise his head.

Everything around him seemed huge and imposing - the great emperor, the palace, and this endless power emanating from Cassian. The boy was stunned and scared, but at the same time he felt excited.

“What is your name?” asked the emperor.

The boy swallowed nervously and said:

- Michael, your majesty.

Cassian looked thoughtfully at the child, his snow-white hair swaying slightly in the silence, his golden eyes, with their snake-like pupils, glittering against his impassive face.

“That name doesn’t suit you,” he said slowly. “Your name will be Renard from now on.”

“As you command, your majesty,” the boy said, not understanding what this new name meant, but feeling something important in it.

“Raise your head,” Cassian said, his voice soft but commanding.

Renard slowly raised his gaze and saw the Emperor’s face for the first time. The majesty of that face, the white hair that seemed to glow in the shadows, and the eyes full of strength surprised him. The boy involuntarily blushed. He felt small and insignificant in front of that figure.

“Do you have any questions?” Cassian suddenly asked.

Renard, gathering his courage, muttered:

- Yes, your majesty. Can I become the captain of the special fox squad and take my father’s place?

Cassian smiled slightly, and for a moment his eyes softened a little.

- Of course you can. Is anyone stopping you from doing so?

The boy didn’t know what to say. The words sounded so simple, but there was so much more behind them. It was permission. It was the beginning of a new path. And it was that moment that changed his whole life.

Renard, now an adult, stood next to Cassian again, watching him sleep peacefully. It seemed to him that Cassian had hardly changed in all these years, as if time had not touched him.

“I wonder,” thought Renard, looking at the sleeping emperor. “If I hadn’t met him then, would I have become who I am now? Would I have become the captain of a company of foxes, like my father?”

He sighed, looking closely at Cassian’s face. Despite all the years, he still couldn’t answer that question.

“Why am I so drawn to you?” Renard thought, feeling a familiar wave of strange feelings. “And why is everyone else drawn to you too? What is your secret?”

Renard couldn’t find an answer. There was something about Cassian that was inexplicable. Majesty, power, some elusive charisma. But it was more than that. In his presence, Renard always felt part of something bigger, something important, as if with Cassian he was more than just Renard, more than the captain. It was something else, something deeper.

“He is eternal,” Renard thought, studying the emperor’s features. “But even immortality does not answer that question. Even if we live forever, we remain vulnerable to this attraction. The only question is, why?”

His thoughts grew deeper, but his gaze remained fixed on Cassian’s face.

“Everyone who was close to him stayed. We all strive to be close to him, but none of us know why. The Empress, his children, his generals… even me. Why did I choose this path? Why did I choose to stay close to him?”

Deep down, Renard knew the answer, but he couldn’t put it into words. Cassian wasn’t just an emperor, he was a symbol of strength, power, and... loneliness.

“Maybe I stay with him because deep down I’m afraid of being as lonely as he is,” Renard thought, frowning. “Maybe because I see in him what I fear in myself - that loneliness, that endless emptiness that can never be filled.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the gentle breeze rustle his hair.

“Or maybe I just admire him. His strength. His cold determination. There’s something about him that I can never achieve. And that’s what makes him so attractive to all of us.”

Renard sighed, thinking about how many years had passed since they first met. He had seen people change, come and go, but Cassian remained the same.

“Why do I want you to be around forever, Cassian?” he asked himself in his mind. But there was no answer. He only felt an inner connection that could not be broken, even if he wanted to.

“You are the center of our world, Cassian. And even if I sometimes make fun of you, if I try to upset you, I will always come back to you. Because without you, nothing makes sense.”

Renard looked at the sleeping emperor, and a small smile appeared on his face. At that moment, he realized that the answer was not so important. All that mattered was that he was there.

Renard, standing next to the hammock where Cassian slept, was not only a loyal captain and protector, but also the head of an ancient house whose history was intertwined with that of the empire. He belonged to House Felinarius, a house renowned for its cunning, guile, and loyalty to the crown. House Felinarius, a fox-beast race, had served the emperor for centuries. They were a family with an impeccable reputation, for their skill and insight made them the finest scouts and spies.

Renard was the youngest of his kind, and was trained from childhood in the ancient traditions of his family, to be not only cunning and clever, but also loyal. However, his encounter with Cassian changed his destiny forever. As a boy, still known as Michael, he first knelt before the Emperor and, having received a new name from him, realized that his life would never be the same again.

“Renard Felinarius” — it sounded like an honor, like a burden, like a calling. The House of Fox had always been on the side of the Empire, but Renard was more than just another member of that great family. Unlike many of his ancestors, he was closer to Cassian than anyone else in his line. Neither his father nor his grandfather had been able to achieve this. But Renard knew that to earn his place at Cassian’s side, he had to endure much.

“If I hadn’t met him then...” Renard thought, looking at the sleeping emperor. “Would I have become who I am? Perhaps I would have lived a quiet life, like my father, following the precepts of House Felinarius. But that meeting changed me. And now I can’t imagine my life without him.”

Renard watched Cassian sleep, his green eyes gleaming with thought. He knew his loyalty to the Emperor was more than just duty. It was personal. He wanted to be the one who would always stand by, the one who could protect Cassian when no one else could.

Renard took a deep breath, remembering his past.

“Mikhail...” he mentally said his former name, which had long since lost its meaning for him. “Cassian gave me a new name and a new destiny. He knew who I should become. Even if I was just a boy then.”

Renard smiled slightly as he recalled the first time he had looked up and seen the Emperor. That moment had been etched into his memory. He had followed Cassian ever since, first as a loyal subject, then as the captain of the Fox Special Forces.

“You gave me more than just a name,” he thought, looking down at the sleeping Cassian. “You gave me a purpose. And now I am not just the head of House Felinarius, I am your friend and your protector. And I will stay by your side as long as you need me, even if you don’t say so.”

Renard shook his head, covering Cassian with the cloth again to keep him from catching a cold.

“I wonder what you think of me, Cassian? Do you see me as a mere subordinate, or something more? I don’t know. But even if I never know the answer, I will continue to serve you. After all, that is my destiny.”

Renard looked at the garden around them. In the shade of the trees, where streams flowed and the wind swayed the branches, he felt at peace.Eterna, the central part of the palace, was home to Cassian and all his closest subjects. Here was his strength and his peace. And Renard was always there.

“I am a joker, a sly fox,” Renard thought with a slight smile, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “But when it comes to you, I am always serious. For you are more than just an emperor to me.”

Renard’s internal monologue was interrupted as a gentle breeze blew through the garden, causing the leaves to rustle softly. Cassian’s head turned slightly in his sleep, and Renard, watching, felt once again the deep devotion he felt for the man.

“Maybe one day you’ll explain to me why I’m so drawn to you. But for now, it’s enough for me to just be here, next to you.”

Renard looked back at the sleeping Emperor, a satisfied smile appearing on his face.

“Still, no matter how great you are, you are still a human being. And even you need to rest.”

Several hours later, Cassian slowly opened his eyes. A light breeze still stirred the leaves of the garden, and the light had softened, indicating that sunset was approaching. He blinked, listening to the sounds of the garden, and then stretched carefully, his arms at his sides. At that moment, Renard, who was standing nearby, noticed the emperor awakening. His usual sly smile appeared on his face.

“Your Majesty, are you awake yet?” he said, tilting his head slightly to the side. “You’ve only slept for a few hours. Perhaps you should sleep a little longer?”

Cassian, listening to himself, slowly sat up in the hammock. His gaze was, as always, calm and impenetrable.

“No need,” he said quietly, but there was a hint of weariness in his voice. “I think I’ll go and walk around the palace a bit.”

Renard bowed slightly and said:

- As you command, your majesty.

Cassian rose from his hammock and, shoulders slightly straightened, headed toward the palace corridors. Renard, as always, followed him, his steps light and silent, his gaze attentive.

They walked in silence, but Renard’s mind was still racing with thoughts. “He’s tired. Even now, after so many years of immortal life, I can see it in his eyes. But how does he manage to stay so calm? Why does nothing ever bother him?”

Renard walked beside Cassian, watching his every move carefully. The Emperor moved through the corridors of Eterna, the central part of the palace, as if he were lost in thought. It was hard to read his emotions on his face, but Renard felt that something had changed in recent times. Cassian had become even more distant, even more thoughtful.

“I always follow him,” Renard thought, his eyes wandering over the majestic palace walls, decorated with paintings of the emperor’s ancestors. “And every time I think I’ve figured him out, he reveals a new side. Like today - something in his gaze was different than usual.”

They passed through several arches and Cassian finally spoke, his voice quiet but firm.

- Renard, you’re always there, aren’t you?

Renard smiled faintly, not hiding his usual slyness:

- Your Majesty, someone has to make sure you don’t forget to rest. And who, if not me?

Cassian chuckled slightly, but his golden eyes remained cold and focused.

“You are a loyal subject, Renard. But you have always been more than just a fox. What keeps you here, by my side?”

Renard froze suddenly for a moment. The question threw him off balance. He had never thought Cassian would actually want to know.

“What’s holding me back?” he thought, looking at the back of the emperor’s head, who had already continued moving forward. “That’s a good question, really. I could have left, become someone else, lead my own life. But I stayed.”

Renard breathed in the chill air of the palace, thinking about Cassian’s words. He always used humor and lightness in his communication, but now he felt that the moment had come to be sincere.

“Your Majesty,” he began slowly, “to be honest, I’ve never asked myself that question.” He chuckled, adding, “Probably because you’re too interesting to tease.”

Cassian raised an eyebrow slightly, a small smile crossing his face.

“Tease me?” he asked again, his voice filled with mild surprise.

Renard shrugged.

- What else would you do next to an immortal emperor? You’re always so serious. Someone needs to add a little lightness to your existence.

But there was more to the joke. Renard knew it. He had always felt a connection to Cassian, but it was a connection that went deeper than mere duty.

“To be honest, Your Majesty,” he added more quietly, his gaze becoming more serious, “I stayed by your side not because it is my duty. And not because tradition holds me. I stayed because I believe in you. I believe that you are more than just an immortal ruler. You are the one who makes our world a better place. And perhaps I want to be with someone who can do that.”

Cassian stopped and turned to Renard, his golden eyes sparkling in the dim light of the hallway.

“Do you think I can make the world a better place?” the emperor asked quietly, a note of doubt in his voice.

Renard nodded, his gaze firm.

- Yes, your majesty. Even if you yourself sometimes doubt it.

Cassian looked at Renard for a few seconds and then nodded slightly, his face becoming impassive again.

“Thank you, Renard,” he said quietly. “Maybe you’re right. Or maybe I’m just tired.”

Renard started to say something else, but Cassian had already turned and continued on his way. Renard, as always, followed. But now his mind was filled with new thoughts. Cassian was letting him know that his presence was important. And to Renard, that meant more than any title or position.

“I will stay with you, Cassian,” he thought, looking at the Emperor’s silhouette ahead. “As long as you need me. I will stay.”

Cassian and Renard continued their quiet journey through the palace. The corridors were filled with silence, broken only by their footsteps. Suddenly, Cassian stopped in front of one of the portraits hanging on the wall. In this image, he was still very young - about fourteen years old, with short white hair and ordinary, golden eyes that seemed to have no knowledge of the wisdom and heaviness that he later acquired.

But that wasn’t what caught his attention. There was another man standing next to him in the portrait - a young man with black hair and bright blue eyes with a white tint. Dressed in a royal uniform, he looked majestic and confident.

Cassian stared at the portrait for a long time, his eyes reflecting a sadness and pain he rarely showed anyone. Memories flooded back, making his heart clench with long-forgotten pain.

“Richard...” he said in his mind, plunging into memories. “You were my brother... the only one I called family. Why did it have to end like this?”

His thoughts returned to the distant past, when he was still a servant, not knowing titles and power. Together with Richard, they shared all the hardships and joys of life, becoming true brothers in spirit, if not in blood.

“You were always stronger than me,” Cassian continued to think, his gaze never leaving the image of young Richard. “You always knew what you wanted, and you were the one who led us both forward. I never wanted to harm you, but fate decreed otherwise.”

His heart clenched in pain as he remembered the last moments of Richard’s life. That fateful day when he had been forced to kill his brother, even though it was against his will. Their paths had diverged when Richard had chosen the other side, a side Cassian could not support.

“I didn’t want this, Richard,” he whispered silently. “I fought it until the very end. But you made me make a choice. And that choice destroyed a part of me.”

Renard stood nearby, watching the Emperor with interest. He saw Cassian staring at the portrait with a sadness that Renard had rarely seen on his face. He had never seen Cassian smile. Even when Renard made his wittiest jokes, Cassian always remained cold and reserved.

“Why does he never smile?” Renard thought, looking at his face. “I try to cheer him up, I try to make him laugh at least once. But every time I see only this sadness in his eyes. What is his soul hiding? What torments him so much?”

Renard didn’t know the whole truth about Richard, but he felt that behind this portrait there was something deeply personal to the Emperor.

“You look so strong and unwavering,” Renard continued to think, looking down at Cassian’s hands, which were slowly clenching into fists. “But there is so much pain inside you. Why do you never let yourself free from it? Why, when I try to tease you or joke with you, do you always remain so cold? What are you hiding from all of us?”

Renard felt a sadness rise within him. He had always considered himself a part of Cassian’s life, his faithful companion and friend. But even he, despite all the years he had spent at his side, did not know all of his emperor’s secrets.

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Cassian, as if hearing Renard’s thoughts, took a step closer to the portrait, his gaze becoming even more focused, as if he was trying to penetrate deep into his memory.

“We called each other brothers,” he thought, his heart sinking even more. “But Richard, you died because of me. And that will never give me peace. I killed you, even though it was against my will. And I’ve never felt truly alive since.”

Cassian exhaled slowly, looking away from the portrait and letting his hands fall to his sides. He knew these memories would never leave him. Richard had been his brother, his only family in those days. But the choice he had made had robbed him not only of his brother, but of a part of himself.

Renard, sensing the Emperor’s inner pain, took a step forward, but did not dare speak. Instead, he simply watched as Cassian looked away, hiding his sadness.

But now Renard knew one thing: Cassian, no matter how powerful he seemed, was as vulnerable as any other man. And his grief, his inner wounds, would never heal.

“Maybe one day he’ll open up,” Renard thought, his green eyes flickering with gentle sympathy. “For now, I’ll just stay by his side and do my best to support him, no matter how heavy his burden.”

Silence filled the corridor once more, and both Cassian and Renard continued on their way in silence, lost in their own thoughts.

Grandmother Marie paused for a moment, looking into the distance, as if her thoughts had taken her back in time. Silence reigned around her as the family listened attentively to her words. Marie, the children, and the parents were immersed in the story, each new detail revealing unknown secrets of the empire to them.

“Renard,” Grandmother Marie said finally, her voice quieter and more thoughtful, “was the only beastman in the empire who truly respected and perhaps even loved the Emperor. But not for his power, not for his titles. Loved him for who he truly was.

Mom looked at grandma in surprise, frowning slightly.

“Loved him?” she asked, trying to comprehend what she had heard. “Are you saying he was close to the emperor?”

Grandma nodded.

- Yes, they were more than just a subject and a ruler. They had a real connection. Renard was the one who knew the Emperor better than anyone else. When Cassian died… Renard disappeared. Vanished without a trace. No one ever knew what happened to him. But when he saw the dead Emperor, it was like a blow to the heart. It killed him inside.

The children looked at each other, their eyes shining with surprise and interest. The girl sitting next to her father could not contain her curiosity:

“Grandma, how do you know such things?” she asked with a slight note of admiration.

Grandma smiled, her gaze became a little softer, but there was still a mysterious sadness in it.

“Some stories are passed down from person to person,” she began, her voice quiet, as if she didn’t want to reveal all the secrets. “But there are some things that cannot be forgotten. Even after many years. I was a witness, though very young. I remember once being told of the closeness between the Emperor and Renard. Although it was not spoken of openly, their connection was noticeable to those who were nearby.

“Did you know Renard?” the boy suddenly asked, looking into his grandmother’s face.

Grandma thought for a moment, as if collecting her thoughts, and then nodded.

— I knew about him. But, like many, I did not understand how important he was to the emperor. After his disappearance, the palace was empty. It was not just the disappearance of a subject, it was the disappearance of a part of Cassian himself.

Mom, who had been silent until then, now said with some bewilderment:

- And you said that Renard was almost on par with the Emperor?

Grandma nodded again, her gaze becoming more serious.

- Yes, he had power and authority almost on par with Cassian. But he never used this power for himself. Everything he did was for the Emperor and his empire. But the most important thing is that they were not just allies. The Emperor once gave Renard a brooch in the form of a red fox, as a sign of their connection. And Renard, in turn, gave the Emperor a butterfly, but not a simple one, but a golden one, which symbolized their friendship and trust.

“A golden butterfly?” Mom asked, frowning. “I don’t remember hearing about that anywhere.”

Grandma smiled sadly.

- Much remains a mystery. Some things cannot be found in books and archives. But that does not mean they did not exist.

The family fell silent again, considering what they had heard. Marie, sitting next to the children, looked thoughtfully at the portraits on the walls of the palace. Everything she learned about Renard and the Emperor seemed to fill the history of the empire with new depth and meaning. Her heart was filled with the feeling that this story was much more than just the story of a ruler and his subject.

“It’s a sad story,” one of the children said quietly. “They lost each other. And they never met again.”

Grandma nodded, her eyes shining with uninvited tears.

- Yes, it is a sad story. But it also reminds us that even strong and powerful people can have feelings that are deeper than any power. And these feelings can be more important than anything else.

The mother, stroking her daughter’s shoulder, quietly added:

— Stories like this teach us that true friendship and loyalty are something that cannot be measured by power or wealth. And they can live on even after death.

The children nodded thoughtfully, and everyone again sank into silence, pondering what they had heard.

Grandmother Marie, looking thoughtfully at her hands, was lost in memories. Her gaze became clouded, and then suddenly a slight smile appeared on her face.

“You know,” she began, lowering her head slightly, as if not quite daring to speak, “I remembered something. A legend.”

The children immediately paid attention to her words, looked at each other, and then moved closer in anticipation.

“The legend?” the girl asked excitedly, her eyes lighting up with curiosity. “Tell us!”

Marie continued slowly, her voice taking on a mysterious tone, as if she were telling something secret, hidden from prying ears.

- There is an old legend about a golden butterfly. They say that if a person sees it, it means that the emperor himself is watching him. And not only watching... It is a sign of blessing. The emperor’s own blessing.

“Grandma,” one of the boys suddenly interrupted her, frowning, “but so much time has passed! The butterfly has probably died a long time ago?”

Marie chuckled slightly, shaking her head.

“Perhaps,” she said quietly, her voice an echo of the distant past. “Perhaps the butterfly is long gone. Or perhaps it still flies somewhere in our world. History, like many legends, lives in the hearts of those who remember.”

She looked up, her eyes flashing with a soft light.

— But the fact remains: the history of the empire is incredibly deep and rich. And all this thanks to one man. The one who raised generations, protected them, was their support. Emperor Cassian. He was not just a ruler, he was a symbol. For many, he was considered a god. His name was in the hearts of every imperialist, regardless of nationality.

Marie paused, as if giving her words time to sink into the hearts of her listeners. The children listened attentively, and the parents looked at each other, feeling the power with which their grandmother spoke. They all knew that her words were more than just memories - this was real history, part of their heritage, their past.

“The Emperor… like a god?” the girl asked in surprise, raising her eyebrows.

“Yes,” confirmed the grandmother, her gaze deepening, full of respect and awe. “In the hearts of the Imperials, he was more than a ruler. He protected us, educated us, guided us. And to this day, even after all this time, his name remains sacred to those who remember.”

- But how so? - the boy did not give up, his curiosity was stronger than anything. - He was a man, not a god.

Marie smiled again, her face expressing a slight sadness.

— Sometimes people become more than just people. They become symbols of hope, of faith, of protection. Cassian was that for his empire. He was the one who carried generations of Imperials on his shoulders. And even after his death, his name lives on as a symbol of something greater.

Mom and Dad, listening to her, exchanged glances. Mom said quietly, as if addressing herself:

- So the emperor was not just a ruler... He was the one who gave the empire a soul.

Grandma Marie nodded, her eyes shining with memories.

— That’s right. Even now, after all that has happened, deep within every Imperial, there lives the memory of him. Cassian left a mark that can never be erased. And maybe one day... someone will see that golden butterfly again. A sign that his blessing still lives.

Everyone fell silent, lost in their thoughts. Silence reigned for a moment, and it seemed that this story would remain with them forever, like a warm echo of the past, sounding in the hearts of everyone who heard it.

The girl, looking out the window, suddenly whispered quietly:

- Or maybe the butterfly is still flying somewhere nearby...

Grandmother, hearing these words, smiled, her eyes shining with warmth again.

“Maybe,” she answered quietly, “maybe...”

The family continued to move slowly through the long corridors of the museum, which had once been a majestic imperial palace. Shadows of the past seemed to come to life at every step - paintings, statues, artifacts, every detail recalled the former glory of the empire. Suddenly, one of the portraits caught their attention, depicting a woman. Everyone - children, parents, even grandmother - stopped, enchanted by her image.

The portrait showed a tall woman in luxurious armor that matched the exquisite elements of her dress. The sword in her hands was impressive: a long blade decorated with ancient symbols, glittering like a reflection of the light itself. Her snow-white hair was pulled back into a high ponytail, and her eyes, shining with wisdom and strength, looked straight ahead, as if from a portrait upon them. The colors of her robe, shimmering in shades of blue and silver, seemed to move under the light, like an icy river in the moonlight.

Below the portrait, in gold letters, was written:

“Leoncia Vallieri is the first female knight of the empire and the first female hero.”

“Wow...” the girl whispered quietly, her eyes lighting up with admiration. “Is... it her?”

Mom, slightly covering her mouth with her hand, could not take her eyes off the portrait.

“The first female knight... and a hero?” she said, surprised. “Leoncia Vallieri... I’ve never heard of her before.”

“And I couldn’t hear,” Grandmother added quietly, smiling slightly. “They talk about her in old legends. Her name is rarely mentioned in history books, but in the heart of everyone who ever served the empire, she was a symbol of courage and strength.”

The children came closer to the portrait, examining every tiny element of her armor. The boy carefully touched the glass in front of the portrait, as if he wanted to feel all the power emanating from this woman.

“Grandma,” he asked curiously, “what did she do? Why do they call her a hero?”

Grandma sighed, remembering the stories she had heard in her youth.

“Leoncia Valieri was more than just a knight,” she began, her voice soft and deep, an echo of the past. “She was the first woman to stand in the ranks of the Empire’s defenders. In those days, it was believed that a woman’s place was not on the battlefield, but Leoncia proved that her place was where she could protect her people. She became a symbol of loyalty, strength, and honor. With her sword and unwavering will, she led the Empire’s troops into the most dangerous battles, always at the forefront, always ready to give her life for her people.

Mom, standing next to grandma, quietly added:

- Her eyes... They are so strong. You immediately understand that this is a person you can trust with your life.

“Exactly,” confirmed the grandmother, looking at the children with warmth. “She inspired everyone who saw her. Even the male knights, who at first doubted her abilities, soon became her admirers. She was called the ‘Ice Heart of War’ because on the battlefield she was cold-blooded and knew no fear. But to her comrades, she was warm and kind.”

The children listened attentively, and then the girl whispered:

- Grandma, have you ever seen her?

Grandma shook her head sadly.

- No, my dear. She lived many centuries before us. But her stories are still alive. They are passed from mouth to mouth. She left a mark on the hearts of many generations.

The boy looked at the portrait again, his thoughts clouded.

“Still... I wonder what it was like to be her?” he said, as if thinking out loud. “To be the one who first broke boundaries. The one who showed that a woman could be a hero.

Mom, hearing his words, smiled and stroked his head.

“I think she knew what she was doing,” she said. “Leoncia was a person who saw a goal and followed it, no matter what the obstacles. And it is because of people like her that our history is so rich and amazing.”

“Yes,” confirmed the grandmother, her eyes shining with pride. “The history of the empire has always been full of such people. And Leoncia Valieri is one of those who gave us the opportunity to be proud of our heritage.”

The children stood for a while before the portrait, examining it in minute detail. Their thoughts were in the past, in that distant era when heroes like Leoncia defended their empire without fear of death.

And although they knew they would never meet her in person, they felt her presence here, within these old walls of the museum, as a living piece of great history.

Leoncia Valieri stood on the battlefield, surrounded by enemies. The thick fog of war surrounded her, and the air smelled of blood and steel. Her armor was mangled by enemy blows, but she stood unwavering. Every breath she took was full of determination, every muscle strained to the limit. The sword she held was heavy with the blood of her enemies, but her hands did not waver for a second.

She scanned the enemy lines, taking in every movement, every potential threat. Leoncia moved with unrivaled grace, her armor glinting in the dim light of the sunset. She knew the enemy was exhausted, but she, too, was at the end of her tether. Her heart beat like the blows of her sword—rhythmic, sure, yet exhausted from the long battle.

With a loud battle cry, one of the enemies rushed at her, trying to break through her defense. But Leoncia knew what to do. She parried his blow with a powerful swing of her sword, blocking all his attack paths. Their blades connected with a furious ringing sound, but she was faster. A turn - and her sword sank into the enemy’s side, and he, clutching at the wound, fell to the ground with a cry.

“Surrender,” she said, breathing heavily, her voice full of weariness but not a drop of fear. “Your resistance is pointless.”

The remnants of the enemy troops froze, looking at each other. Their gaze fell first on Leoncia, then on the dead bodies surrounding her. They understood that before them stood not just a woman - she was the embodiment of indomitable will and unrivaled strength.

But not everyone was ready to give in. One of the enemies, a huge warrior with a two-handed axe, rushed at her, screaming in rage. His heavy footsteps thundered across the field, but Leoncia was ready. She raised her sword, easily dodging the first blow, and immediately counterattacked. Her blade slid across his armor, leaving a deep cut. The warrior stopped, breathing heavily, and then collapsed to the ground as if mown down.

His blood was dripping down her armor, but Leoncia paid no attention to it. Her breathing was even, and her mind remained cold as ice.

“I can’t afford to make a mistake,” she thought.

“They look to me. My defeat will be their defeat. I must win for the sake of those who fight beside me.”

Her eyes swept across the battlefield, her warriors, exhausted but still holding on, watching her actions with silent admiration. She was their symbol of steadfastness, their only chance at victory.

Another enemy tried to come from behind, but Leoncia, sensing his movement, spun around and plunged her blade into his chest. He froze for a moment, his eyes widening in pain and surprise, and then he fell, leaving Leoncia standing alone again among the dead bodies.

It seemed as if the earth itself stood still. The enemy, seeing that their efforts were useless, began to retreat. The ranks of enemy soldiers crumbled like sand, and soon the battlefield was empty. Victory was hers.

Leoncia lowered her sword, her body finally allowing itself to relax. Her armor was heavy, coated in a layer of blood, but victory shone in her eyes. She took a deep breath, feeling tired, but also an inner pride that the battle had been won.

Her troops surrounded her, approaching cautiously. One of her closest companions, a young knight named Kael, stopped next to her, his gaze full of admiration.

“Mrs. Vallieri... You did it again,” he said quietly, his voice shaking with fatigue and respect.

Leoncia looked at him and nodded slightly, her face calm even though emotions were raging inside her.

“We have won,” she replied, her voice level but strong. “But the war is not over. We must be ready for the next step.”

Kael nodded, though his eyes still showed amazement at her unrivaled skill.

“How do you stay so calm?” he finally asked, barely containing his emotions. “After everything you’ve seen... after all these battles?”

Leoncia thought for a moment, her gaze again directed into the distance, to the field strewn with the bodies of enemies and fallen comrades.

“Because,” she began, “I know what I’m fighting for. I protect those who believe in me. And as long as I’m standing on my feet, as long as I can raise my sword, I will fight. But I will never forget those who remained on this field. Their sacrifice is what drives me forward.”

She raised her head, her eyes shining with determination again.

- And as long as I have power in my hands, I will protect our people. And no one can change that.

There was unwavering faith in her words, and her warriors, hearing this, felt strength again within themselves. They knew that as long as Leoncia Valieri was with them, they were invincible.

The evening in the camp was calm, but the air was still filled with fatigue from the hard battle. The tents, pitched in a row along the hill, were slightly tattered by the wind, and the warriors sat by the fires, enjoying a moment of respite. The flames crackled softly, illuminating exhausted faces soaked in sweat and blood. The thick smell of smoke and grass mingled with the aroma of cooking food.

Leoncia, dressed in a simple shirt and loose trousers, sat on a wooden bench not far from her tent. Her armor had been removed and lay neatly nearby, shining from a hasty cleaning, but it still bore the marks of battle - cracks and scratches that had stood silent witness to her victories. Her sword lay on the ground nearby, wrapped in cloth.

She looked at the horizon, where the setting sun was painting the sky crimson. There was weariness in her eyes, but also a strong determination. She never showed her doubts or weaknesses in front of others - her warriors must always see her as a symbol of confidence and strength. But in moments like these, in the silence of the camp, with only muffled voices around her, she allowed herself to relax for a moment and think.

Kael, her young comrade, approached, hesitant to disturb her thoughts, but Leoncia sensed his presence and gestured for him to sit next to her.

“We’ve had a good day,” he said, sitting down next to her and placing his helmet next to her. “We’ve won, the enemy has been routed. But I still can’t understand where you get so much strength and patience. You hardly ever rest.”

Leoncia smiled slightly, but there was more sadness in her smile than joy.

“Strength doesn’t just come from physical training,” she said quietly, looking up at the crimson sky. “It comes from within. From what you fight for. I wasn’t always like this, Kael. I had to lose a lot when I was younger to understand who I was and why I was on this battlefield.

Her voice was soft, but there was a weight of experience in it. She looked at the young knight, seeing in him an echo of her youth.

“I once lived a life far removed from all of this,” she continued. “I was born into a noble family. I had everything – wealth, respect, even power. But one day, when our kingdom was attacked, I realized that none of these things could protect the people I loved. That day, I lost my parents. And I realized that I had nothing left to lose. Since then, I have chosen my path – to fight for those who cannot protect themselves.

Kael listened to her with interest, his eyes widened in surprise. He knew Leoncia was a person with a strong character, but he never thought that her past was so tragic.

“I didn’t know,” he said quietly, his voice full of respect. “And what made you go to the front?”

Leoncia looked at him and sighed slightly.

- You know, Kael, not everyone chooses this path consciously. Many come here because they cannot find themselves in a peaceful life. But I came because I had no other choice. I could not protect my family when they needed it. But now I can protect others. I can be the sword they did not have time to raise.

Kael was silent, considering her words. He had always thought of her as unwavering, but now he realized that her strength came from the pain she had endured. He saw before him not just a knight, but a person who had sacrificed her life for others.

“But...” he began, not knowing how to find the words. “Isn’t it hard? To be on the battlefield every day? To fight and see people die?”

Leoncia nodded, her gaze returning to the fire.

“It’s hard,” she admitted. “Very hard. But if I give in, if I allow myself to break, then who will be on the front lines? Who will protect these people? I have to be strong. It’s my duty.

She paused, then, looking straight into Kael’s eyes, added:

- You too will become as strong someday, Kael. Strength comes with experience. And if you learn to fight not only for yourself, but also for others, you will be able to cope with any pain.

The young knight nodded, his face full of determination, although his eyes still showed admiration.

“I will try, Mrs. Vallieri,” he said respectfully. “I will try to become like you.”

Leoncia smiled slightly, but this time her smile was warmer.

“You’re already on the right path, Kael,” she replied quietly. “The main thing is to never forget what you’re fighting for. And then, even in the darkest moments, you’ll find the strength to move on.”

They sat together, enjoying the quiet moment after the battle. The firelight flickered in their eyes, and the silence of the camp seemed to envelop them in warmth. But Leoncia knew that there were many more battles ahead, many losses. And she was ready for anything, because her path was clear - to protect, to fight, and never retreat.

Her heart beat with unquenchable strength, and she knew that her place was on the front lines.

The fire continued to crackle, its flickering light reflecting on Leoncia and Kael’s faces. Silence fell over them for a moment, giving both a chance to reflect on the talk of battle and fate. But then Kael, turning his head slightly toward Leoncia, asked with a slight hesitation:

“What do you think of our king, Cassian Aurelius?” His voice was quiet, but there was genuine interest in it. “He has ruled for a hundred years. Many say that he is immortal.”

Leoncia tensed slightly at the question, her fingers tightening a little on the hem of her shirt as she raised her head and looked into the fire’s flames, as if she could see her thoughts reflected in the fire.

“King Cassian...” she drawled thoughtfully, her gaze becoming more distant. “He’s a complex character. Strong, intelligent, but... there’s something about him that’s alarming.”

Kael narrowed his eyes, as if he didn’t fully understand her words.

“What do you mean?” he asked, leaning forward slightly to hear her better.

Leoncia paused for a moment, considering her words. She had never been one to speak openly about rulers, but now, in this small camp, among her own people, she could afford to be honest.

“Cassian has ruled for a hundred years,” she began, her voice lowering, almost to a whisper. “For ordinary men, that’s a lifetime. But for him… it seems like this is just the beginning. He rules with confidence, as if he were destined to rule forever. Many admire his wisdom and fortitude, but I see something else in his eyes. Something that haunts me.”

Kael frowned slightly, his gaze full of interest and slight concern.

“What is this?” he asked.

“Loneliness,” Leoncia said quietly. “I think he’s seen too much in his long life. He’s lost too many people he knew and loved. And it’s left a mark on him. Cassian seems so majestic, so indestructible, but I think he’s very lonely inside. I see it in his eyes when he looks at his subjects. It’s the look of a man who feels no connection to the world around him.”

She paused, looking up at the darkening sky, where the first stars were beginning to break through the thick clouds.

“Greatness and power always come at a price, Kael. And I think King Cassian pays a high price for his immortality - loneliness, loss, and perhaps fear of a future in which he will be alone.

Kael paused, taking her words in. He had heard many stories about Cassian Aurelius—how he had led great battles, how his wisdom had saved the kingdom in difficult times. But he had never considered the man behind the myth of the immortal king.

“I have heard from the older knights that King Cassian never ages,” Kael continued, his voice growing more serious. “And that he is one of the few who have seen the war of the last century. But if he is so wise and powerful, why has he not yet created an empire? After all, he has the power.

Leoncia smiled slightly, but it was a bitter smile.

“Wisdom is not always about power,” she said, her eyes returning to the fire. “Cassian could make his kingdom a great empire if he wanted. But he does not seek it. He rules as a man who understands that power is not the most important thing. Perhaps he does not want to repeat the mistakes of other great rulers who, driven by ambition, lost touch with the people.

She sighed, once again feeling the weight she carried on her shoulders.

— Perhaps Cassian is simply waiting. He is patient as no one else. He knows that an empire is not only about conquests, but also about internal changes. Perhaps, when the time comes, he will create an empire that will last for centuries. But for now, he watches, analyzes, and perhaps seeks those who will help him on this path.

Kael nodded thoughtfully, but his thoughts still revolved around the image of Cassian.

“But you’re right...” he said, lowering his voice slightly. “Sometimes, when I see him, it seems to me too that there’s something... lonely in his eyes. As if he’d long ago lost what was important to him.”

Leoncia looked closely at the young knight, seeing herself in his youth - the same look, the same question on his lips: “What next?”

“Kael,” she said, her voice soft but insistent. “King Cassian is a man who lives on the edge between the past and the future. And we are all here with him to help him find that path. But remember this: even great rulers need those who will support them. Even those like Cassian cannot stand alone in eternity.”

Kael thought again, but now his gaze was more serious and full of understanding.

“I understand, Mistress Vallieri,” he replied, nodding. “We are all part of this story. And perhaps someday we can help the king in his quest.”

Leoncia smiled slightly, and this time her smile was genuine.

- You are already helping, Kael. We all are helping. And while we fight for our kingdom, for our people, we help King Cassian, too. Because his strength is our strength.

Night continued to fall on the camp, but the conversation between them did not subside for a long time.

The last day of the war was dark and silent, broken only by the distant sounds of battle. Leoncia Valieri stood on the top of a hill, surrounded by the bodies of her fallen enemies. Her armor, once shining in the sun, was now scarred by blows and covered in blood, both her own and that of her enemies. Her sword, heavy from the battle, was barely held in her weakened hands, but she continued to stand, as if not noticing the pain and fatigue.

Below her stood those who were still alive, the last 200 enemy warriors who knew that defeat was inevitable, but still refused to retreat. They looked at her with hatred, or perhaps with respect. After all, they saw how a lone woman, alone on the top of a hill, held back their army and destroyed their hopes for victory.

Her breathing became heavy, every movement was painful, but she knew she had to hold on a little longer. Her thoughts were confused, but one thing remained clear: the kingdom must not fall. She could already feel the end approaching, but her heart still beat for those she protected.

She raised her sword, bracing herself one last time for the final battle. Every blow, every swing of the sword was heavy, but her movements were precise, almost mechanical. She fought as always, with cold determination, like a knight whose will was unbreakable. One by one, the enemy fell, their bodies littering the ground, but Vallieri remained standing, keeping them at bay from the key heights.

“Surrender!” one of the enemies shouted, seeing that Leoncia’s strength was waning. “You have no chance, knight!”

But she only grinned, her eyes shining through the pain.

“Give up?” she whispered through heavy breathing. “Not today.”

She knew this was her last fight, but she was not afraid of death. There was no room in her heart for fear, only for honor. She looked into the distance, beyond the horizon, hoping to see her comrades raise the flag of the kingdom over the enemy capital.

One of the enemies, gathering all his strength, rushed at her, but Leoncia, despite her weakness, parried his blow and dealt the final fatal blow. He fell at her feet, his blood mixed with the blood of those who had fallen before him.

Suddenly, the sound of a horn pierced the air—the horn of victory. Leoncia froze for a moment, her heart skipping a beat. She raised her head, and in the distance, on the horizon, she saw the flag of the kingdom rising above the enemy capital. Her comrades had won.

Her breathing became more and more ragged, blood flowed down her sides, and her legs began to give way. But she was still smiling. It was a smile full of pride and relief. She knew that her sacrifice had not been in vain.

Kael, who had been fighting next to her all this time, finally reached her. He ran up, his eyes full of horror and despair.

“Leoncia!” he shouted, catching her so she wouldn’t fall to the ground. “We won! The kingdom’s flag is over the capital, do you see that? We won!”

Leoncia looked at him, her gaze clouded, but the smile still on her face.

“I see...” she whispered, her voice weak, almost inaudible. “We did it, Kael...”

Her hand slipped from the sword, which fell from her weakened fingers, and she breathed heavily, her chest rising and falling with each painful breath.

“You don’t have to fight anymore,” she added, her gaze calm. “You’re a commander now, Kael. Lead our people further... Protect those we loved...”

Kael looked at her in horror, realizing that she was leaving. Her life was fading away in his arms. He squeezed her shoulder, trying to hold her, as if his will could stop her death.

“No!” he cried, his voice shaking. “You can’t leave us! You have to live! You have to be with us!”

But Leoncia knew her time was up. She smiled again, a little wider this time, with a hint of sadness in her eyes.

“My time is past, Kael,” she whispered, her voice barely reaching his ears. “But I am happy... I leave knowing that we have won. The kingdom... is saved.”

With these words, her eyes closed, her breathing became ragged, and with her last breath, her body went limp in Kael’s arms. Her smile remained on her face, she passed on to the other world, knowing that her mission was accomplished.

Kael, feeling her body go rigid, clenched his teeth, trying to hold back his tears. He gently laid her down on the ground, covering her eyes with his hand.

“Goodbye, Leoncia...” he whispered, his voice full of pain and respect. “You were our hero... and you will always remain in our hearts.”

Behind them, a roar of joy was heard as his comrades celebrated their victory. But Kael stood beside the body of his commander, knowing that the true victory had been achieved through the sacrifice of Leoncia Valieri. Her name would live on for centuries as a symbol of strength, honor, and eternal devotion to the kingdom.

The family was already in the car, heading home. The scenery slowly flowed past the car windows, the sun was starting to set, painting the sky in soft pink and orange hues. There was a lively atmosphere in the car, the children excitedly told about what they had learned that day.

“Mom, can you imagine?” the girl said excitedly, turning around in her seat and waving her arms. “Leoncia Vallieri fought alone against two hundred enemies and died with a smile on her face! She’s a real heroine!”

“Yes, yes!” the boy picked up, his eyes shining. “She gave her life to save the kingdom. And her last words were so...” He paused, trying to find the right words, and then added, more quietly, with a hint of respect: “Honest.”

Mom sat in the front next to Dad, listening to their stories and smiling. She, too, was amazed by the story she heard in the museum. Especially about how Cassian, the king who ruled for a hundred years, eventually created an empire.

“Yes, indeed,” Mom said, looking at her husband, “whatever you say, the empire was magnificent. But I still can’t believe that it fell right after his death.”

Dad nodded slightly, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly and his eyes focused on the road.

“It only confirms,” he replied thoughtfully, “how strong the bond between the empire and its emperor was. Cassian was not just its ruler, he was its soul. When he died, the empire lost what held it together.

Mom nodded thoughtfully, remembering the tour guide’s words.

“And this tour guide,” she added, raising an eyebrow slightly, “said that after Cassian’s death, there was no one left who could hold on to power. No one was prepared for such a fall.”

“But he ruled for so long!” the boy objected, his voice filled with surprise. “How could he not have trained someone to replace him?”

Mom sighed and shrugged.

“Perhaps,” she answered softly, “even a ruler like Cassian could not have foreseen his death. Perhaps he did not think it would happen so suddenly.

The children were silent for a moment, taking her words in. Even at their young age, they were beginning to understand that not every story has a happy ending, and that even the greatest rulers can make mistakes or fail to prepare for their passing.

The grandmother, sitting in the back seat next to the children, had been silent all this time, but now, looking out the window, she quietly said:

- Cassian was a great man. He built an empire from nothing, but like all great men, he was mortal. That’s the paradox of immortal rulers. People tend to believe that they will be with us forever, and when they leave, everything falls apart.

“What about the golden butterfly?” the girl suddenly asked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity again. “Grandmother, you said it was a sign of the emperor’s blessing. Do you think it’s still alive?”

Grandma smiled for a moment, her gaze remaining on the sky outside the window, which was slowly darkening.

“Perhaps,” she replied, her voice warm and slightly sad. “Perhaps she still flies somewhere. And perhaps one day someone will see her again. Who knows? The history of the empire may be over, but its spirit, its memory, they live on in us. And as long as people remember Cassian and his emperors, the legends will live on.”

The boy, lost in thought, quietly added:

— If I saw a butterfly, I would ask it for one wish... for the empire to never fall. And for Cassian to live.

Mom stroked his head tenderly.

“Maybe one day your dreams will come true,” she said with a soft smile. “But for now, it’s important to remember that everything that was teaches us to appreciate what is.”

The car drove slowly along the winding roads, and everyone in the car was lost in their own thoughts. The children were delighted by the history they had learned, and the parents and grandmother thought about how the memory of the past lives on in everyone’s heart.

As the car left the palace district and they began to move away from the museum, something flashed high in the sky, reflecting the last rays of the sunset. A small golden butterfly, shimmering against the setting sun, flew over the palace and slowly disappeared over the horizon. Its wings shimmered like an echo of times long gone, and the butterfly itself, like a symbol of the empire’s bygone greatness, disappeared into the distance, into the unknown.

No one noticed her, but Grandma may have felt a slight gust of wind, as if something invisible had flown past. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

“The story may be over, but its spirit lives on,” she thought with a slight smile.

End