The brothers made their way into the manor, their clothes drenched in sweat from their intense duel. Two maids stood ready by the door, each holding a fresh towel. Zen and Arthur gratefully accepted them, wiping their faces as they stepped into the cool interior of their home.
As they walked through the grand hallway, Arthur turned to Zen, his eyes narrowing with concern. "Now, little brother, tell me what's been keeping you so moody since you arrived. I can see something's weighing on you."
Zen hesitated, then met his brother's gaze. Tears began to well up in his eyes as he recounted everything - Tess's vision, his own premonition, the looming threat to the Empire. His voice trembled as he spoke, the fear he'd been holding back finally breaking through.
Arthur listened intently, his expression growing more serious with each word. When Zen finished, Arthur was quiet for a moment, processing the gravity of the situation. Then, a bright smile spread across his face.
"Hmm... I see," Arthur said, his voice filled with confidence. "Then there's nothing to worry about. You have me, and that's enough assurance you wouldn't die. The future isn't set in stone, Zen. We Briars have a knack for defying fate."
Zen felt a weight lift from his chest at his brother's words. Arthur's unwavering confidence was contagious, and for the first time since the vision, Zen felt a glimmer of hope.
"Go and freshen up," Arthur added, giving Zen a playful push towards the stairs. "Father will be back soon, and we wouldn't want him to think we've been slacking, would we?"
As Zen ascended the stairs, his steps lighter than before, Arthur's smile faded slightly. He glanced around, ensuring they were alone before muttering to himself, "Things are about to get interesting."
In the Emperor's private quarters, Lloyd and Curtis sat across from each other, the weight of Tess's premonition hanging heavily in the air between them. The room, despite its opulent furnishings, felt somehow smaller, more confined, as the two men grappled with the implications of what they'd learned.
Lloyd leaned forward, his voice low and urgent. "Curtis, according to Tess's premonition, we have roughly two to three years. The feast of Yggdrasil is celebrated after every decade, and this time, the decade falls in just over two years. This timing can't be a coincidence."
Curtis nodded gravely, his brow furrowed in concern. "The non-aggression pact with the North ends around the same time. If civil war breaks out then..." He trailed off, the implications clear.
"It could mean the end of the Darkus Empire as we know it," Lloyd finished for him.
A heavy silence fell between them, broken only by the soft ticking of an ornate clock on the mantelpiece. Finally, Curtis spoke again, his voice barely above a whisper. "What do we do about Zen? Your son is meant to meet an ill fate around the same period."
Lloyd stood abruptly, pacing towards the window. He gazed out at the horizon, his reflection in the glass a mask of determination. "He just has to get strong in these two years," he muttered, almost to himself. Then, more loudly, "I think I will call in my request from the east now."
Curtis's eyes widened in realization. He rose and joined Lloyd at the window, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Do you mean the elves?"
Lloyd nodded, turning to face his cousin and emperor. "During the war, the queen of elves, Freya, was seen on the battlefield. I don't know her reasons for being there, but she was almost killed. I stepped in, ensuring she got away safely."
He paused, his mind clearly replaying the events of that day. "At the time, she had her child with her and hadn't yet attained the level of high elf. She was vulnerable. I made sure she got out of Eden, and in return, she promised to give me a helping hand whenever I needed it."
Curtis's eyes widened as he grasped the magnitude of the favor the elves owed Lloyd. "So, how do you intend to call in this favor?" he asked, curiosity and a hint of hope coloring his voice.
A smirk played across Lloyd's lips as he answered, "Farcus Academy of Battle Arts."
The words hung in the air for a moment before Curtis exclaimed in shock, "The non-aligned academy? Only those who qualify can get in. Not even the connection of the emperor can secure a place there!"
Lloyd's smirk widened into a full grin. "That's true, but the school's council is run by the three most powerful races in the world: the dragons, the whales, and the elves. These three constitute the school's council. If you can get a recommendation from even one, you're guaranteed a spot. That's what I aim for with Freya."
Curtis shook his head in amazement. "You never cease to surprise me, cousin. If anyone can pull this off, it's you."
As their conversation wound down, both men felt a mix of hope and trepidation. The path ahead was fraught with danger, but they had a plan. It wasn't much, but it was a start.
Lloyd clasped Curtis's shoulder. "We'll face this threat together, old friend. The Empire has weathered storms before, and we'll weather this one too."
With a nod of agreement, the two parted ways, each carrying the weight of the future on their shoulders. As Lloyd made his way back to the Briar manor, his mind was already racing with plans and preparations.
Later that day, Lloyd returned to the manor. Arthur greeted him at the entrance, and they made their way through the grand corridors to the Marquis's audience chamber. The room was impressive, with a golden chair that looked almost like a throne at its center.
Lloyd took his seat, his piercing gaze fixed on Arthur. "It is to my understanding that you had a bout with Zen, Arthur?"
Arthur couldn't help but grin, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Yes, Father! He looked as though something weighed on his mind, and I also had to test out his new skill. You know me - I can never resist a good fight."
Lloyd raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in his voice. "This son of mine, how did you become such a battle freak?"
Arthur let out a hearty laugh. "Bwah hah hah! I learned from the best, didn't I, Father?"
Composing himself, Lloyd leaned forward, his curiosity evident. "So, what were your thoughts? How strong is he?"
Arthur's expression turned serious. "I really am shocked, Father. He put up quite a fight. Just once, he forced me into a corner, and I had to go all out. I can't lose to my junior brother now, can I?" He paused, then continued, "He's at the peak of expert in terms of swordplay, but the inclusion of his skill lets him tap a little bit into the level of a master. He'll need about two years to break into that stage fully, but the blessings of the Briar are no doubt playing in his favor."
Lloyd nodded, pride evident in his eyes. "Is that so?"
Arthur added, "He might need a custom sword that fits his size. The great swords we use hold him back."
A sly smile played on Lloyd's lips. "I have that under control. Carac!"
Emerging from the shadows as if he had materialized from thin air, Carac appeared with a sword hilt in his hands.
"My lord, here it is," Carac said, presenting the hilt to Lloyd.
Lloyd took the hilt, and before Arthur's astonished eyes, formed a magnificent blade from it. "This is the 19th spirit sword born from the energy of the Sword Sovereign," Lloyd explained. "I'll give this to Zen as a send-forth gift."
Arthur's eyes widened in surprise. "Send-forth gift? Father, what do you mean?"
Lloyd's expression turned grave as he began to explain his plans for Zen's future, including his conversation with Emperor Curtis and the decision to send Zen to the Farcus Academy of Battle Arts. As he spoke, the weight of the coming challenges settled over the room, the fate of the Empire hanging in the balance.