"All living things are destined for death. Even the sun will one day burn out, and when it does, none of this will matter."
— Carl Sagan
"…and that's how Lucian helps Magnus attain immortality!" I ended my monologue, my dad gave me a long bored look, before sipping and made the straw sound.
"Hmm." He put his drink down, folded his arms. "I don't get it."
My dumbstruck face looked at him with disbelief. "When do you EVER get anything?"
"No, no, I understand the arc," he replied, tone maddeningly casual. "But… is there really a need for it?"
"Of course there is!" I shot back. "Magnus needs immortality. How else is he supposed to keep the empire flourishing for eternity?"
"As far as that goes, Dante, I'm sure monarchy will end even in your world eventually." He couldn't be serious.
"Dad, get to the point. What do you not like here?"
"Its not that I don't like—"
"Dad."
"Okay. I don't think Magnus needs to become an immortal by Lucian's help."
I stared at him, confused. "But why—"
"And," he continued, cutting me off before I could argue, "your reasoning is off. You're setting Magnus up for misery. Immortality isn't a gift, Dante. It's a curse. He'll live long enough to see everyone he loves—his friends, his family, even Celia—die. What's the point of that?"
I added my excuse, "he cannot bear the pain of death again, hence he wants to live forever. Is that too hard to get?"
"No," Dad said firmly. "It's dumb. And even dumber for a hero like him."
I couldn't help but smirk. "See, this is where common folk like you and us writers disagree. Magnus's immortality raises the stakes for Lucian's sacrifices. Not long after, Magnus kills Lucian because of the affair with his mother. That—"
"Hey, but—"
"Let me finish!" I snapped. "That betrayal will overshadow Lucian's sin with Ariadne, showing him as a morally gray character. Readers will actually like him more!"
"But then you kill him anyways." He scoffed.
"Exactly," I replied smoothly. "You either die a hero—"
"Or live long enough to become the villain," Dad muttered, rolling his eyes. He stared at the wall for a moment, then added, "Immortality is painful, Dante. You don't get it."
His words hung in the air. I scoffed silently, brushing them off. Really, who wouldn't want to live forever? And in the end, at that time, this story was really just a story.
Looking back now, when this has become the reality, I realize he was right all along.
…
Today I was to depart from this palace; sure enough, I wouldn't miss it. But before that, it was time. I finally accepted the Emperor's offer.
He wouldn't let me leave without an answer.
Early dawn, the sun had just risen.
I stood by the door, as the maid announced my arrival in the audience chamber. He remained seated, as I dismissed the priests to stand guard outside.
"Blessings upon Your Imperial Majesty, the strength of our kingdom and shield of our people."
He coughed halfway, telling me to sit.
"I am surprised, nobody tailed me in the span I've stayed in the palace."
"I had no reason to make anybody tail after you. What use would that be, when it's your call to make on who you support in the end?"
"I've come with an answer."
His face tightened, "Whatever your answer be, I hope you have still given much consideration to my offer." Defensively, he had already made the assumption I would deny the offer.
"I do not mind supporting Prince Theron—"
"You DON'T?" He stood up from his seat.
"However…" I paused, watching his fleeting moment of joy crumble.
"However…?"
"Prince Magnus is my friend, I'm afraid I would be painted as a traitor if I go against him."
"So, you care more for your reputation than loyalty to a friend?" His tone darkened.
"Correct." I did not deny, "therefore, someone else must play the villain."
"Who?"
"You."
"What?" He froze, his sharp gaze narrowing.
"You must appear to have forced me. Threatened my family, if I didn't comply."
"Ridiculous," he scoffed. "Magnus would never believe that. I am not a monster."
I smiled, blinking twice.
His confidence faltered. "Right?"
Silence.
He groaned. "You're telling me he already believes this?"
"I've ensured he does."
"Preposterous!" He slammed his hand on the table. "No. I will not allow this."
I rose, bowing. "Then, our meeting is over."
Turning around, I added, "I shall make sure to tell your Swordmaster son that no such thing happened."
I turned back to look at his face. The color had drained from it. "S-Swordmaster? W-wait… what did you say?"
"It's true." I stepped closer, savoring his unease. "Your second son has become a Swordmaster. Tell me, Your Majesty, why would anyone choose to support the elder prince now?"
"Stop." His tone turned icy. He paused, eyes narrowing. "This… would mean Theron has already almost lost."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
He exhaled sharply, the tension in the room thick enough to cut. "Very well. You may leave without worry. Your reputation will remain in my care."
He wanted Magnus away from the throne so badly that he was willing to sacrifice his reputation.
"I knew you'd understand, Your Majesty."
I turned to leave, but his voice stopped me, colder than the dawn. "And to think, I believed you were a man of honor, Your Holiness. How sly you are."
"Farewell," I replied without turning; I beared no debt to his emotions.
"Remember your promise Mr. Westwood, you must support Theron now." His eyes glared into my back as I left, slamming the door shut, I offered no response.
Magnus didn't frighten me—but I knew better than to face him now. Until I was stronger, challenging him would only lead to one outcome: my death.
…
Celia joined, as we headed towards the temple. We could not stay at the palace as it was New Year. The temple needed me.
I stepped foot inside the carriage and gave Celia a hand. The crowd from the palace surrounded us; they looked quite upset I didn't stay for longer.
Or perhaps it was all an act; I did not bother caring.
Before the carriage took off and I felt nauseated, I asked. "You didn't forget to bid farewell to your uhm did you?" and chuckled.
"YOUR HOLINESS!" She covered her face, embarrassed.
I couldn't resist teasing her—after all, it was only a matter of time before her love turned into tragedy.
Soon after, silence followed as the carriage made the acids in my stomach fizz up to my throat, only one thought lingered in my mind. I had forgotten to bid Ariadne farewell.
I hoped it wouldn't cost me my life. Both mother and son were batshit crazy.
Celia pulled the curtains to the side, the view different from before. Snow covered the streets, as commoners prepared their own small stalls, the cold wind signalled new arrival.
It was the first morning of the New Year.
The festival was here, by evening the whole city would glow with lights, and the market would overflow with crowds.
Each corner, musicians would sing their heart away. As dancers would bring the rhythm to life, for a very affordable price.
Toys to armory, to replicas of things worn by nobles. Candles, and crackers, sweets to… slaves.
Yes, the prettiest New Year festival was again, nothing but rather—an opportunity for illegal slave markets to thrive. Human smuggling and kidnapping being the easiest thing this time around within the crowd.
Where commoners rejoiced in dance, music, and clay toys. Nobles found their own way to celebrate through sex, drugs, slaves, and auctions.
Auctions being the most human, my eyes were set.
It was today, that one item would be sold in auction and I must get my hands on it.