The air in Akrifous had changed. I could feel it with every step I took through the broken streets and crumbling houses. The once-thriving village now lay in constant dread, haunted by the endless night raids from the undead. Faces once warm and familiar were now cold, marked by hunger and loss, and every corner echoed whispers of fear.
A full year had passed since the incident that unleashed this hellish plague, and with each passing day, I could feel the kingdom slipping further from my grasp.
But the weight that hung heaviest was not just the village's fear or the kingdom's peril. It was the sight of my father, King Gario, as his body gave in to sickness and weariness. Nothing could have prepared me, seeing the toll in his eyes, the dullness in them where once they had burned with pride and strength.
That afternoon, he summoned me to his chamber. As I walked through his chambers, the atmosphere was sad and grim.
"My son," he murmured, his voice barely a whisper.
I knelt beside him, fighting the tightening in my chest. "I'm here, Father."
He placed a trembling hand on mine. "Damian… the kingdom needs a strong ruler. Someone who can lead them, who will not falter in the face of fear. Akrifous… needs you."
The meaning of his words settled on me like a boulder. "Father, the kingdom has you. I'm here to fight beside you. The people—"
"The people are… already looking to you, Damian." He took a deep, rattling breath. "I have taught you all I could, and in this dark time, they need a king who knows their fear, who fights alongside them, not from the throne."
"But Father, there's still time," I said, grasping his hand. "We can find a way to cure you, to restore you to strength. Don't talk as if—"
"There is no time," he interrupted, his voice barely a whisper. "You must accept this now… for them, for your brothers."
At that, my heart clenched. My older brothers had always seen the throne as theirs by right. They had fought beside me, yes, but they saw me as the dutiful son, not the rightful heir. Father's choice would incite fury, perhaps even rebellion.
"What will they think, Father?" I asked, the ache in my voice betraying my uncertainty. "What if they refuse to follow?"
"Then they are not worthy," he said with surprising strength, squeezing my hand. "Akrifous needs someone who sees beyond pride and legacy. You were born to lead, Damian."
I closed my eyes, letting his words sink in. "I won't fail them, Father," I promised, barely louder than a whisper.
"Then it's settled," he said, his hand slipping from mine, falling back onto the bed. The finality in his words echoed in the room, marking the weight I now bore.
* * *
Later that evening, a court gathering was arranged. The news spread quickly, and I could already feel the tense stares, the barely concealed murmurs as I entered. My brothers stood near the front, their expressions ranging from disbelief to open fury.
The eldest, Duncan, was the first to speak, stepping forward with a hardened glare.
"This is madness," he hissed, his voice low yet filled with venom. "I am the oldest; I have trained my whole life for this. And now, you hand the throne to Damian?"
I held his gaze, feeling the tension ripple through the court. "Duncan, this isn't about birthright," I said steadily. "This is about who will fight for the people, who will protect them from the undead that plague our lands."
"The people?" He scoffed, stepping closer. "What do you know of leading, Damian? You spent your time running after sorceresses and ancient tales. We need a king who does not side with traitors and make matters worse!"
I knew he blamed me for the current situation of Akrifous.
My jaw clenched, but I forced myself to stay calm.
"I risked my life to bring Agartha here because I thought she could help us, to give us an edge against the beast that stalk our nights." I looked around the room, addressing everyone who watched, some in support, others in silent judgment. "It's easy to dismiss my decisions when you don't understand the dangers I've faced."
Baird's mouth twisted into a sneer. "And yet, here we are, with undead still roaming, our father bedridden, and your so-called ally nowhere to be seen. What's your next plan, little brother? To dig up another artifact and hope it saves us all?". Baird was my second oldest brother. He was joint at the hip with Duncan, always carrying out mischief.
"Enough!" The voice came from behind me, low but unmistakably commanding.
The room stilled as my father was carried in by his attendants, his frail form wrapped in a thick fur cloak. He looked at Duncan, then to Baird and the rest of my brothers, his gaze sharp despite his frailty.
"I have made my decision," he rasped. "Damian will be your king, in these trying moments."
"But Father—" Duncan began, only to be silenced by a fierce look.
"You question me, son?" Father asked, a faint but ironclad edge to his words.
Duncan's mouth snapped shut, his hands clenched into fists. I could see his defiance, his resentment, but he lowered his head in obedience. Beside him, my other brothers wore matching expressions of bitterness.
"Do not think that I made this choice lightly," Father continued, addressing the room. "Damian has shown courage where others falter, resilience where others yield. I made a promise that if Damian came back successful, he would be crowned king"
"But -"
"While many of you may critic the success of the operation, the beast had not been seen since." King Gario paused for a while, staring at everyone in the eye. "Which means the condition of that promise had been fulfilled"
The murmurs in the room rose again, filled with both uncertainty and begrudging acceptance. I felt the tension in my shoulders lessen, though I knew this was only the beginning of my trials.
Father looked at me, his eyes softening. "The kingdom is yours, my son. Guard it well."
I bowed my head, struggling to keep the emotion from my voice. "I will protect our people with all that I am."
On hearing this, the whole court bowed in acceptance.
"All Hail King Damian"
* * *
That night, as the castle quieted and the flickering torches cast long shadows in the halls, I found myself alone in the great hall, my mind spinning. A cup of wine was placed by the large table. Wine had become my solace, helping me to drown all my doubts.
Suddenly, footsteps sounded behind me. I turned to see Kretha, the highest rank female warrior in Akrifous and apparently in the past one year, had become my bestfriend. She was an exceptional fighter and although acted tough around other men, she was particularly soft to me.
"Big shoes to fill, huh?" she said, offering a tentative smile.
I managed a chuckle, though it felt hollow. "You could say that."
Kretha looked down, her brow furrowed.
"I know Duncan's angry. He… he wanted this his whole life. But don't doubt yourself, Damian. We've all seen how you've led these people, how they look up to you. And… well, I know you'll do right by them."
I felt a surge of gratitude for her words. "Thank you, Kretha. It means more than you know."
"I know" She winked at me. Her eyes were green and her lashes dark like charcoal. "soon they would be clamoring for a wife for the King"
"Thats where I'll draw the line" I said. It was tradition that a king cannot stay longer than a month without a queen or queens, depending on his preference. But that was the last thing on my mind right now, plus...the first woman I had loved had betrayed me. There was still no space in my heart for another woman.
"You still thinking about the sorceress?" Kretha asked. I almost choked on my wine.
"what! Where did you get that from!?" I tried to deny it.
"Your eyes deny it Damian" Kretha said staring right into my eyes "Oh boy... and I thought I had a chance"
"Uhn" what did she mean by that. I dropped my cup.
But she gave me a small nod before taking a step back. "Goodnight, your majesty"
I watched her waltz, disappearing into the hallway. Kretha can say crazy things. She was joking right?
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[A/N]
Hi guys, this is a new volume. I started it earlier than I had planned. But yeah...Please comment and support this book.