Marcus dashed from the training hall to his room, rushing straight to the washroom. After 10 minutes, he emerged transformed, resembling a royal noble rather than a warrior. Ascending the grand stairs towards the throne room, he was greeted by a chorus of bows from the familiar faces of his servants, castle staff, guards, maids, and instructors. All of them bowed politely as usual. Yet, Marcus couldn't shake the feeling that something had changed in their demeanor. 'Is it because I am an adult now?'
Upon reaching the entrance, the grand doors swung open as if they were anticipating his arrival. Stepping inside with confidence, Marcus's eyes fixated on the man seated upon the previously empty throne. From behind he could hear a booming voice declaring his arrival, "Youngest Prince of Margrave Empire, son of His Majesty Olav Margrave, Prince Marcus Margrave has arrived !!" The declaration resounded, accompanied by thunderous applause and cheers that startled Marcus. He had never experienced such a reception before. Finding a vacant spot next to his instructors, he stood alongside them, feeling somewhat out of place.
Once the applause subsided, everyone turned toward the throne, awaiting His Majesty's address. The butler Lief broke the silence, presenting a concise report on the ongoing war. "Our empire has been engaged in war with the Continental Union for five years. Despite the heavy casualties, we have finally broken the stalemate. The once formidable Sword Deity, our primary target, is now dead. Your Majesty, the east is now ripe for infiltration and we are prepared to engage." Lief concluded the short report awaiting Emperor Olav's words. Olav took a gander and then his voice resounds across the halls and throughout the royal city of Margrave Empire. "Citizens of the Empire, the recent years have been tough on you. Each of you has suffered losses—be it land or loved ones. However, the war is not over until the enemy has suffered your wrath. Don't be mistaken we will kill people; soldiers, and citizens alike, for this is the grim reality of war. If we don't act now, next time they will step on our necks. If they can get away doing it once why not again? Hence we must fight. Not for justice, not for land or resources; we have got plenty of that. This is a fight for honor, for vengeance, for power. Because in the end if we don't teach the world, the consequence of stepping on us, they will not learn. We MUST make them learn. We stand firm! WE PREPARE FOR WAR!!"
As Olav's declaration echoed, all the troops stationed around the royal city roared in excitement, their weapons yearning for blood. The castle synchronized beats of spears and shields reverberated through the castle. Marcus felt his blood pulsating through his veins, raring him to join the battle. He marveled at his father's commanding presence. While he was observing the reaction of others, Olav suddenly appeared before him. "Follow me." He commanded, leading the way. Surprisingly, no one seemed to take notice as Marcus obediently trailed behind his father, entering an adjacent chamber.
The chamber revealed itself as a library, housing towering shelves of ancient books. Olav settled into a large chair behind a desk, gesturing for Marcus to join him. Intently studying his son, Olav inquired, "To start with, Do you have any questions?" Marcus was taken aback by the audacity and directness of his long-absent parent, yet he maintained his composure and asked, "Who is my mother? For years, I have often wondered why I am kept in the dark about her. Could you enlighten me?" Olav looked at him for a bit before replying, "When I came to the Central Continent, I had ambitious and dangerous plans. The Martial Union, the dominant power at that time, and I clashed frequently for several years. In the end, I reluctantly agreed to a peace negotiation proposed by my adversary, which included a marriage to your mother."
Marcus's eyes widened with disbelief. "So my mother is from the Martial Union?" he questioned, his voice trembling with mixed emotions. Olav's gaze remained steady, devoid of any warmth. "Yes, she is," he confirmed coldly, "But that is not all. We spent about twelve years together and gradually I grew to love her. However, the day you were born, she was plagued by a terrible dream - a prophecy that conveniently circulated days before. Manipulated by external forces, her mind succumbed to fear, and she attempted to flee the castle. Tragically, this led to her death along with my other wives and children."
Olav paused and looked at a shield that is on display nearby. "That was a very dark time for me. For a time, I doubted her loyalty, assuming her actions stemmed from her anxieties. But I have come to the truth. It was not some mere dream that drove her, but rather the Union's insidious infiltration of our ranks. After a few years of meticulous elimination, I launched a full-scale war against them. However, I remain uncertain of your mother's involvement, which is the reason why no one wants to talk about it with you. for fear of being misunderstood as a spy. I can see why this must be difficult for you. I fathered four children, among which only you are alive."
Astonished by the sudden revelation about his family, Marcus contemplated a little before asking, "Father, what was the prophecy about?" Olav suddenly had an ominous presence about him upon hearing Marcus' question. Adjusting himself, he asked, "Do you have anything else you wish to ask?"
After a bit of silence Marcus spoke again, his voice resolute, "No, I must know about the prophecy. I have been kept in the dark about mana as if it were nonexistent. Breathing techniques remain absent from the library's shelves, and I have rarely witnessed anyone using them, except during encounters with intruders. I am not allowed to go outside, nor have any visitors. I know no one beyond the castle staff and those appointed to train me. Barring a few, most of my instructors and teachers only worked me to the bone, without teaching me any useful skills and techniques. I never got to see you. No family around. Everyone kept a distance from me. They either disciplined me or bowed to me. I often thought of this castle as a prison instead of a home. But I convinced myself, I wanted to give you a chance to explain. You must have had a reason for restricting me. This must be because you are overprotective and not scared of me. Something tells me everything is interconnected to this prophecy." Marcus wanted to scream at his father 'Where have you been? Why did you not meet me? Is it really because of the prophecy or because I am not talented enough? Am I really your son?' Marcus spent years longing for love, friendship, and companionship. Yet, after witnessing his estranged father's declaration in the throne room and experiencing his cold demeanor, all the pent-up anguish, resentment, and frustration surged within him. Nevertheless, he tried to hold back and calm himself down lest show his vulnerable state. "I believe, I have a right to know."
Olav however, was completely not interested in his son's emotional turmoil. He was looking at the dark sky through the window. Retrieving a small leather parchment concealed within his sleeve, he tossed it toward Marcus. As Marcus unfolded the parchment, he noticed four lines etched upon the weathered reddish-brown surface.
"Born of filicide, the devil spawn;
Seal twice broken, the planet torn;
Millennium waned, the sacrifice reclaimed;
The heavens closed, the devil is tamed."
Marcus read and reread the lines, his mind raced to comprehend their significance. When he finally looked up, Olav stood before him, a blade pressed against his son's throat. Leaning in, he whispered, "I am sorry, but ever since your mother orchestrated the annihilation of my family, I ceased to view you as my child. I could not slay you when you were but a child, nor could I let you go, for you held the key to my weakness. I avoided forging any emotional bonds with you, fearing this day would come. And now it has. Today, my son, I need you to die—not for my sake, but for your mother, who never wronged you. I hold no grudge against you. It is simply what must be done, and I wish it to end." Olav's voice carried an air of finality as he continued, "May you find happiness and a family deserving of you. Your death will not be in vain. Thank you, Marcus Margrave, for your ultimate sacrifice!"
SSHHLEEK !!
Marcus barely had a moment to react before a short blade pierced his heart. Staggering backward, he clutched at the parchment, blood filling his lungs, rendering him unable to speak. His eyes, however, remained fixed on his father, questioning, 'WHY?! why me? why did you let me live? I haven't done anything wrong. I tried everything. I did my best. THEN WWWHHHYYY?! Curse this life! It's good that I am going to die, If I could escape, I would kill this man!! No, I MUST kill this man!! I am getting sleepy. Shit Shit. Stay awake. Where is this place?' Surrounded by darkness, Marcus felt his memories slipping away. He was feeling peaceful, he resisted, refusing to forget this betrayal and the torment he had endured. 'No, I will not forget this betrayal, I will not forget this anguish. OLAV MARGRAVE JUST WAIT, I WILL NOT DIE. NO MATTER HOW LONG IT TAKES I WILL KILL YOU .' In the darkness, he repeated those words, even as they grew inaudible, drowned out by the all-consuming void. But he persisted, holding on for what seemed like an eternity until he found himself in a strange house, held by a beautiful woman in her gentle arms.
'Damn it! I truly died.' Marcus found his grief and sadness take over him, as he began to cry uncontrollably "AAAAHHAAAAAWAAAAAUWAAAA"