"Why is mommy being buried?" Remarked the little elf goblin as Nero held back tears. It had been only a day since his beloved wife, Manai, had passed in her sleep. Although it hurt him badly, his beloved daughter's not understanding anything worsened the situation.
But as Nero suppressed all his tears, he knelt down to face Mino on an equal level, "It's a tradition that every one of us Children of Elios share, be it humans, orcs, elves, whatever. Even the Children of Temus share it as well." Mino's eyes widened as Nero continued his story, "We are called the Children of Elios because one day a long~ time ago, the youngest of the primordial brothers, the Bright Dawn Elios, created most of the races around Zeroth. Using the power of the All-Mother, Elios carefully, thoughtfully, and joyously made all of us from different materials from around Zeroth. So that when one… finishes their life, they are buried, and they yet again become one with Zeroth."
Mino's eyes shine at her father's tale, "R-really?" She asked in disbelief, "T-then what was Mother made out of?" The question threw Nero off guard, as he thought of what to say.
But as his mind tried to find the correct words, his heart spoke first, "A sweet red apple." As the funeral for the beloved Manai came to a close, some of her friends decided to take Mino, because they wanted Nero to have his alone time.
The elf walked through the people present, their pity for him evident, yet Nero didn't notice, for he couldn't concentrate on anything. As he turned a corner, his facade crumbled, falling on the ground, with his hand covering his eyes, Nero wept, his tears going through his hands.
But right behind the wall, was a teary-eyed Ga'Trul, who was the only one who heard his cries, "...Crown Prince of Zania," he whispered under his breath, "The only royal to weep for someone who meant so little to the Kingdom."
But life went on for the elf, be it very different and difficult. Manai was someone special to him, her presence around the household was one that made him excited to come back. But as he would open the little covering his family called a door for so long, no one would be there to greet him.
"Daddy's back!" But outside there would always be someone. As Nero turned around, he saw his last gem, Mino, her smile gave him the power to smile himself, "What did you get today?" She would excitedly ask as they entered their home.
"I did some odd jobs around, and bought us a little bit of bread," and Nero would respond as he and his daughter would eat. Although life was painful for the father and daughter, at least they had each other.
But fate, did not favor the elf yet again.
8ALB, a year brutal for Zania's people. The already freezing region of north-western Akal was hit by the coldest blizzard ever recorded, Zania's cities were covered in snow. But the blizzard hit one city the hardest, the Capital of Zania, Dazarek.
The people living above were hit by winds so cold it would freeze and kill people who would be caught in it in a matter of minutes. Families stayed home, workers barely produced anything, including food; the underground city, which depended on the upper city's production, suffered as a result. Their entrances were covered by thick snow every day, and getting even the smallest of food was almost impossible.
As a result, the gangs that were already at odds began to battle even more for the little food the underground city had. But to those who had no intention for battle, or were too weak to participate, their only future was death.
So in a small opening in the concrete jungle known as the underground city, an elf father, starving and cold, held his shivering daughter in his arms. Covered in layers upon layers of clothes and all he could find, Nero begged for something to come.
"Daddy… I'm… I'm cold," the small child whispered, her lips cracking like the pavement outside. Ga'Trul promised to bring Nero and Mino food as he led Vaza Street to war, but he would only return with barely any, for Nero and Mino were only two in a place that had plenty more mouths to feed.
But the orc felt bad for the two, and would often give his own fill just for Mino to survive. But the body of the small elf goblin was one that was susceptible to the cold, and with her barely eating, her body could barely produce heat for herself.
Nero, who was watching his only daughter, freezing and starving, could only offer a weak smile as he tried to encourage her, "Someday," he said as he tried to hide his tears, "I'm going to take you to a park where the sun would kiss your skin."
At her father's remark, Mino smiled, "Is there really a place like that?" She excitedly asked behind her course voice. Seeing her light up, Nero grinned wide.
"Of course," Nero exclaimed, "And there you'll eat all the fruits you want." Days went by, and Nero and Mino talked and talked. A few more days, and Nero and Mino talked and talked. A few more days, and Nero talked and talked. A few more days, and Nero talked and talked.
Then finally, after a long campaign, Ga'Trul returned. Immediately he rushed to his best friend's house, only to hear singing. It was a language he didn't know but a voice he recognized. So as the orc lifted the cloth covering.
His eyes widened in horror, as tears began to flow from them. Sitting there, singing, his face sunken and his voice coarse and rough, a smile plastered on his face, and his tears frozen descending from his eyes. Nero, the Crown Prince of Zania, held the frozen corpse of his daughter, his eyes completely deranged.
Not a month later, Dazarek's underground city was united in one banner, and as the blizzard calmed down, the upper city also became a part of it. Mirroring the conquest of the Lich, the Mad King of Zania tore through every city he came across, inciting the great Zanian uprising.
Nero was a sleeping giant, his power as a royal rivaled that of one of the black scars, his necromancy gift gave him unequaled versatility, and his education about the conquerors of the past gave him military skills equal to the Lich himself.
But this Nero was no longer the loving father that was seen in the underground city, he was mentally unstable, destructive, unfit for a crown. So in the city of Kalamot, the Mad King was defeated by the Lich.
But in Kalamot's main castle, with both of his hands gone, and his life fleeting, Nero came back to his senses. Seeing a stunned Artefus, he saw a man blinded by rage and hatred, one whose fury against all other nations belittled his love for his own people. So clutching into the last few breaths he had, Nero set away his anger, and offered guidance.
"Lich," Nero began, "You have betrayed… your people, you start wars and pillage, and instead of giving to your people, you fuel that all-consuming fire… you are no king, you are merely a warmonger…" Blood poured from Nero's mouth and nose, stunning Artefus that he could even speak.
"I-... I just can't forgive them…" Artefus weakly responded, his rage fleeing like that of Nero's madness.
The elf took one last breath as he clung to the strings of life with one last finger, "Artefus… Lich of Zania… to be King, is to not be a man… you must forbid any wants, any prejudices, or any sense of self… suffer, grieve, die… for the people you most hold dear, and as a King, it must be those you look after." Nero's eyes weakened, his arms went limp, and as death entered through his body, his brain remarked one last sentence, "Please… hear, the unheard, see, the unseen, and be hope, to the hopeless, do not hate your enemy, but love those you need to protect," and with one breath, the elf Nero, Last King of Zania, died.