Rexton
A kingdom with very fertile land. The harvest is always rich and flowers and greenery always decorate every corner of the kingdom throughout the year. Fair winters throughout the region and joyful summers complete with festivals in some areas. Even though Rexton neighbors the Pyrs Kingdom, which is a rocky mountainous area that is always cold, the people of Rexton are always happy.
Happiness, of course, doesn't just happen. There are several big families behind it.
Royal family, Rexton. The King who is said to be fair and wise, brave and friendly at the same time. Under his authority, the kingdom still stands today despite having faced two great wars in the past.
The Melchoir family lives on the borders of the kingdom. Led by a young Marquess, whose talent is unquestionable. Thanks to him, the beasts as well as the robbers from Pyrs were repelled.
There are also the black royals, the mysterious Coltons. Many were afraid of them, but their role was very important to the kingdom.
Then there's the Whitleys...
Well, the Whitleys. Residence in the most fertile land in Rexton, a major supplier of staple foodstuffs for all people. Without the role of this family in managing their land, surely all the people will starve.
In addition, the Whitley family are demon controllers.
Or at least, that's how the Whitleys used to be.
And, that's how the Rexton kingdom once remembered its people.
Now the Whitleys are gone and the Rexton kingdom doesn't feel like it used to be.
"Looks like scholars need to replace the existing history books in the library. Or perhaps, should we need to write a new one?"
The question floated softly in Hadrian Melchoir's ear. Her voice broke the night that was somehow so quiet. No, it's not silent anymore. It's silent and it feels very suffocating.
"But I thought, is there still a need to write? Is there anyone who can write after all this?" asked the voice again.
Hadrian gasped for breath to say, "Rheannon, I don't want to do this. I know you do too."
The woman called Rheannon turned slowly towards him. Her face lit by the moonlight looked tired and wistful. She looked like someone who had run out of her life force.
"Who gets to choose?" Rheannon asked. "It all depends on each of us."
In the blink of an eye from behind her appeared a thin glowing smoke. Over time the smoke condensed and formed a demon with long hair and red eyes. One arm wrapped around Rheannon's waist, and the other pointed a spear at Hadrian.
"Well, who do you think is faster here Marquess Hadrian?" Rheannon smiled gently at her husband. "My mouth or the swing of your sword?"
Hadrian drew his sword and swung it swiftly at his wife.
It is said that if someone is going to die, flashes of their life will spin in their head.
This is a glimpse of their life.