"...We never really won anything."
"...How come you're the only one that knows this version of our history, Your Majesty?"
Rhys was not trying to sound doubtful, but he was. Throughout his entire life, he had been taught the same history over and over again — the gods were their saviors. But most importantly, it did not, and should not really matter to him.
"Because we have kept this secret for a thousand years, Master Rhys," the King breathed out; the relief that his exhale contained still very much filled with a hopeful weight, "And we are not the only ones that know this — around the world, there are protectors of our true history."
The King once again pointed at the painting where King Aethelblac supposedly faced Zeus, or more specifically, he pointed at the other silhouettes who were with the First King.
"There is a prophecy, a prophecy that King Aethelblac left us," the King then looked Rhys in the eyes,
