"In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our families."
–- Martin Luther King Jr.
Late evening, the clouds were set in. Dad and I barely made home before sky broke open, we would've been soaking wet had we stood there a minute more.
"Hah oh…oh god!" I panted, clutching my laptop, "Told you it was a bad idea!"
"If this had gotten wet, where would I write? You tell me!" Looking towards my father, we walked inside the gate. Our breathing unsteady, his more than mine.
"Come…hah, come sit." he pulled the stool closer.
"It was cloudy to begin with, that too at four in the evening. Even owls know that's too early for a sunset" catching my breath as I wiped the water off the stool by hand and took seat.
The rain grew heavier, birds seeking shelter as water poured in sheets, filling the air with the scent of soil.
Moist grass and puddles formed in the alleys. Amid the white noise of rain, he appeared at peace.
"Why did you bring that thing? We went at four to sit and wait for sun to set." He scoffed.
I turned to look at him, my expression clearly yelling, "are you fucking serious old man."
"Yeah what else, you and your damn story. You're just like your moth-
That was the first time he ever spoke of mother.
He froze, and in silence, the rain sounded louder. While birds found shelter and stopped chirping.
His face turned to the side. Perhaps he made an expression he couldn't show me. I looked ahead, arms on my knees and my head leaned over it.
In that moment, I wanted to yell. I wanted to drag him into the rain, stomp my feet, pull his collar, demand he tell me everything.
Just who was she? And why wouldn't he tell me? But we had gone over this before.
Instead all I Managed to say,
"dad…"
"Ugh… Dante I didn't-
"Why don't we light up a cigarette, its perfect weather." While I looked in his eyes, never had I ever seen him so flustered, nervous, anxious and… hurt.
"Y-yeah, hah, you're right son. But the lighter is inside"
"I'll get it." I said
"No, its…its okay. I'll fetch it, it just on the table. But no more than one cig, got it?"
"Got it, go on hurry up now!"
He disappeared, taking far longer than he needed.
When he finally returned, I lit his cigarette, "how was mom father?"
The flame burned the cigarette as smoke went off in the heavy rain before us. He took a puff and paused.
"Father? Call me dad what's father? You reading too much fantasy." He blew out the smoke, looked to the side. Made no eye contact.
"She… she was out of this world."
Just— an ordinary day. And yet it never leaves my mind. I'll never forget it.
…
In Sins of the Crown, Magnus Drakonhart, the protagonist watched the empire crumble. Plagues spread, nobles turned on each other, and his family consumed by misery.
Blood stained the fountains, war raged daily, and his lover captured, tortured, mutilated and killed— all under his brother's rule—Theron Drakonhart.
A world which goddess showed no love towards. At last Eloven descended, and put an end to Theron's tyranny. But the damage was done
She sent Magnus back in time, gave him the purpose that in this life, Theron must not ascend to the throne.
"It must be me, Magnus. Who becomes the emperor this time around"
That was the plot, for the book that I wrote.
All that mattered to me, Goddess appeared after empire fell to ruin.
Only time she would ever appear, would be during the end of this world.
This was Magnus's second life as per the story I wrote, the protagonist I never wished bad upon in any regression.
…
"If you swear to support Theron till the day he is coronated as the emperor." His voice dropped, almost as if he feared being overheard, even here in his own palace.
Pulling me back to the present.
"But your… your majesty…?" Shock etched across my face.
This was the price he wanted me to pay, in exchange for vengeance against my father—or Lucian's father. To be clear.
"I am aware, you are forbidden from meddling in matters of succession." He paused. "For that reason I would grant you the dukedom your father holds." His voice determined.
One could tell he at no cost wanted Magnus taking his crown.
"Your majesty, do you not hold the power to pass the throne to whichever child of yours you see fit?" It was a genuine question.
"Theron was supported by nobles in the beginning. Until… a couple months ago." His voice trailed off. "In the past months, Magnus has won over the nobility at an alarming rate. They support him almost unanimously. My hands are tied."
That must have been when Magnus reincarnated. That is when the original story began. A couple months ago.
"My hands remain tied to the wishes of majority in the throne hall. I hold the most power, but not all." He clenched his fist.
"Do you accept?" His gaze fixed upon me.
"If that is what you wish." I said, my voice low.
"Great! Then-
"—I will consider it" I finished.
"What?" He did not seem to have expected this response. But I couldn't say yes, I couldn't look to have wanted this.
"I must see for myself, if your eldest son is truly capable of becoming somebody as great of a ruler as you are." The grin upon my face wouldn't go away. "…and above else, I require time to think through this your majesty."
After a minute of silence, he finally agreed. Upon one condition.
"Very well," he said, though his eyes hardened. "But you will remain in the palace until you've made your decision. Is that clear?"
There was no refusing him now.
One issue remained, Theron despised me.