At that moment, Cyrus admittedly had many questions to ask, but he could not, not when Vermaria was at stake, and he really should not be listening to Noggin.
"Brother! What are you doing?!" Rhoan called, fear making his voice hoarse, and it quickly snapped Cyrus from his stunned state.
Whipping around, Cyrus hurried to Caius and Rhoan. Small shards of broken flames were still falling from the sky and turned everything they touched to a bright red. In no time, the courtyard was covered in fire and smoke, and the once clear dark sky was now a raging blood orange.
"What on earth is this sorcery?!" The king, Bjorn Alistair, raged, and as usual, everyone cowered from his anger. Seething, he turned to Cassandra, and Cyrus could see his younger sister pale at the attention, a clear indication that she did not have the answers.
"Lunaris is silent." She finally muttered, her eyes cast to the floor, and King Bjorn groaned, his voice audible in the silent room.
"We have clearly angered a god of some kind. Summon Lunaris right now, if we delay there will be nothing left of the kingdom!" The king yelled again, but Cyrus could barely think straight. Angered a god? He wondered, and the awful thought that Lunaris was not the only one ruling the God space occurred to him, and he could not help the involuntary shudder that shot through him.
Do not desecrate my temple! Cyrus could have sworn that he had heard the voice as surely as he could hear his father's, but what did it mean? Did he anger a god by chance? But that was impossible, right?
"Your Majesty!" Noggin yelled as he staggered in, somehow managing to bypass the guards in the chaos and melee outside successfully, and everyone in the inner court groaned.
Noggin the drunk was not unpopular in Vermaria, quite the opposite actually, he was really quite famous for his entertaining drunken ramblings that were strangely accurate, and he had also spent the last few months trying to get an audience with the king of Vermaria, and that lucky day was apparently at hand.
"What do you want, Noggin?" The king sighed, his face an ugly ashy gray. Like his sons, he was impressively built; tall, with a mass of dark hair and blue eyes, but at that moment, watching the courtyard burn, he looked oddly defeated, and Cyrus fought the burning lump in his throat, and the burden in his heart that told him he was deeply responsible for what was going on.
"The kingdom of God is at hand!" Noggin yelled, ignoring the words of his king, and everybody, Cyrus included, frowned. Wondering what he was rambling about.
"What is he talking about?!" Rhoan demanded, his voice hard and angry as he stared down at Noggin, the ever-present amusement in his eyes, finally gone.
"With chariots of fire and wings of lightning, the heavens shall rain down against the sins of mankind!" He yelled again, completely drunk on his prophecies, or strong wine, Cyrus could not be sure.
"Guards! Get him out of my presence and chain him to the stocks for being a fucking nuisance!" The king yelled, and in no time, Noggin was dragged by his raggedy hair from the court.
"Cyrus!" Noggin screamed again, causing Cyrus to lurch in shock as all eyes settled on him. Averting his eyes, he tried to pretend Noggin did not exist, but the drunk was not having it.
"Prince Cyrus Alistair!" He yelled again. "First born son of Bjorn Alistair! Heir to the kingdom of Vermaria! Forged from the heat of a thousand fires and the steel of the flaming sword! First of your kind! Arise! Elyon awaits!"
A different kind of silence overtook the entire hall after the drunken proclamation. But it was not the empty kind of silence. It was full, pregnant even, and Cyrus licked his dry lips cautiously, beware that the eyes of everyone followed his every move.
"He speaks of me." The voice Cyrus doubted he heard the first time, fluttered through his ears, like the soft ruffling of autumn winds. So gentle and yearning that Cyrus could not help the tears of longing that drifted from his eyelids. A longing for things unknown.
"What am I to do?!" Cyrus cried, dropping to his knees as the weight of an unknown burden pressed him to the ground. "What do you want from me?!"
It was too late for Noggin to answer though, his outraged cries could be heard as it echoed from wherever he was taken.
"The sacrifice of a lamb without blemishes. Your hand on the head of the king to collect the sins of my people, place that same hand on the head of the sheep before slitting its throat, then dedicate the place to me, and I, the Lord, shall spare your people."
The voices spoke with authority, and Cyrus groaned as he placed his hands on his head. The sounds in his head was becoming too loud, and he was terrified.
"Brother! Are you alright?!" Cassandra ran to him as she placed her hands on his forehead to recite healing chants, and in a panic, Cyrus shoved her from him, barely acknowledging when she fell as he struggled to his feet. The front of his shirt was soaked with sweat.
"Brother, are you alright?" His younger brother, Rhoan, tried to help, and this time, Cyrus allowed it.
"Water." He croaked. "I need water."
Nodding at the servants behind him, Rhoan brought the cup to Cyrus, watching carefully as he drank from it.
"What happened?" He asked as soon as Cyrus took a deep breath. As he did so, he noticed the eyes of the entire court on him, some looking more suspicious than others. While others, like Cassandra, just look injured.
"I think I know how we can put out the fire." Cyrus offered after taking a deep breath, his hands clenched by his sides to still his shaky breaths.
"How? Speak son." His father, the king, commanded, and Cyrus heaved a sigh, inwardly bemoaning his burdens, but on the outside, he stood firm.
"We need to sacrifice Baa-Ra." Cyrus declared, well aware that Baa-Ra was in fact the sheep kept and trained specifically for the rites of the new king. A rite every new king must go through to swear fealty to Lunaris. The sheep was supposed to be his sacrifice to seal the power of the crown, the only pure blood in all of Vermaria, but at that moment, Cyrus could not bring himself to give a flying fig about Lunaris.
"Do you know what you ask?!" The elders had regrettably decided to regain consciousness and coherence, and one yelled. "Lunaris forbids it!"
"Lunaris forbid?!" Cyrus yelled, overcome by his anger for the god and everyone else in the room.
"Yes!" His sister, Cassandra, yelled, and Cyrus chuckled. A sound devoid of all humor.
"Then call upon Lunaris for an alternative! Beg her to put a stop to this strange fire that has besieged our lands. She was certainly awake when she tried to drain the king of his life force, so call upon her!" Cyrus yelled, his eyes burning with a stubborn fire as he stared at the kohl-lined eyes of his sister the high priestess, and the entire court waited with baited breaths for the answering wrath of their god.