The battle was over. The soldiers of Egress returned home, weary but alive, to a city teeming with celebration. The streets were lined with citizens who cheered and waved, their faces alight with joy. For the people, it was a victory worth rejoicing. But for the soldiers, it was anything but.
As Jonathan entered the palace gates, he was met by his loyal servants, who relieved him of his armor, piece by piece. They moved in silence, sensing the somber air that clung to their prince. Once his armor was removed, they prepared him a bath to cleanse the dirt and blood of the battlefield.
Soaking in the warm water, Jonathan leaned back and closed his eyes. The echoes of war replayed in his mind: the roars of the Beasts of Sin, the cries of dying men, and the unbearable weight of survival.
Later, dressed in simple royal attire, he found Johan waiting for him in the palace's study.
"Aren't you glad to see me back in one piece?" Jonathan asked, forcing a small smile.
Johan returned his grin with a knowing look. "Don't be silly, brother. I knew you'd return safe. But... why do you look so grim after such a victory?"
Jonathan hesitated, running a hand through his hair. "How can I explain it?" He sighed deeply, his voice heavy with weariness. "This didn't feel like a war. It felt... wrong, Johan. As if we were fighting something far beyond our understanding."
He rubbed his temples and chuckled bitterly. "Maybe I'm losing my mind."
Johan shook his head. "No, brother, you're not. I've felt it too—a shadow looming over everything. Victory doesn't feel like the right word."
Before Jonathan could reply, a commotion from the palace gates interrupted their conversation. Shouts echoed through the corridors.
The brothers exchanged a glance before hurrying to investigate.
At the gates, a ragged beggar stood, shouting incoherently. His clothes were tattered, his face smeared with dirt, and his hair wild.
"This is just the beginning!" the beggar screamed. "More will fall! Let me speak to the majesties!"
The guards, offended by the man's audacity, grabbed him roughly. "You dare demand an audience with the princes?"
Each guard seized a shoulder, preparing to throw him out, but Johan's voice cut through the air.
"Stop!"
The guards froze, bowing deeply as the brothers approached. Jonathan narrowed his eyes, studying the beggar closely. Recognition dawned on him.
"I know this man," Jonathan murmured. "He's the one who spoke of a prophecy before."
Curiosity piqued, the brothers ordered the guards to bring the beggar inside.
Inside the palace, the beggar was led to a dimly lit chamber. His frantic demeanor shifted the moment the doors closed. His wild eyes sharpened with unsettling clarity, and his voice deepened, taking on an almost regal tone.
"Have you felt it?" the beggar asked, his gaze piercing.
Jonathan and Johan exchanged uneasy glances.
"Who are you?" Johan demanded. "And how do you know this?"
The beggar chuckled darkly. "I am but a keeper of knowledge too heavy for the young to bear." He turned to Jonathan. "The war you fought was not orchestrated by the Beasts of Sin."
Jonathan flinched, his stomach twisting. "What do you mean?"
The beggar's lips curled into a grim smile. "The Beasts of Sin were afraid, scattered into a frenzy by something far greater. You've felt it yourselves—the balance is shifting. The world is entering a new era."
"What new era?" Johan asked, his voice trembling.
"The calamities have begun to awaken," the beggar said simply.
Silence fell over the room as the brothers processed his words.
"What can we do to protect our people?" Jonathan finally asked.
The beggar's grin widened. "Unite the nations, forge alliances, prepare for a storm like no other. But even that may not be enough."
Johan leaned forward, his fists clenched. "Enough for what?"
The beggar's voice turned cold. "To face what David himself could not conquer."
At the mention of the legendary king, the brothers stiffened.
Jonathan narrowed his eyes. "How do you know about King David?"
The beggar ignored the question. "Train the boy," he said, his tone chilling. "he is the Last Light of Egress."
The room began to tremble. The walls shuddered, the floor cracked, and the brothers fell to their knees. When they looked up, the beggar was gone, vanished without a trace.
Soldiers rushed into the chamber, weapons drawn.
"Your Highnesses, are you alright?"
Jonathan and Johan exchanged a grim look, their hearts heavy with the beggar's ominous warning.
"We're fine," Jonathan said, his voice steady. "But the world... may not be."
As the tremors subsided, a dark realization settled over the brothers. The path ahead was fraught with peril. The Last Light of Egress was their only hope, a fragile spark in an encroaching darkness.
And the calamities, ancient and unstoppable, were awakening.
The battle was over. The soldiers of Egress returned home, weary but alive, to a city teeming with celebration. The streets were lined with citizens who cheered and waved, their faces alight with joy. For the people, it was a victory worth rejoicing. But for the soldiers, it was anything but.
As Jonathan entered the palace gates, he was met by his loyal servants, who relieved him of his armor, piece by piece. They moved in silence, sensing the somber air that clung to their prince. Once his armor was removed, they prepared him a bath to cleanse the dirt and blood of the battlefield.
Soaking in the warm water, Jonathan leaned back and closed his eyes. The echoes of war replayed in his mind: the roars of the Beasts of Sin, the cries of dying men, and the unbearable weight of survival.
Later, dressed in simple royal attire, he found Johan waiting for him in the palace's study.
"Aren't you glad to see me back in one piece?" Jonathan asked, forcing a small smile.
Johan returned his grin with a knowing look. "Don't be silly, brother. I knew you'd return safe. But... why do you look so grim after such a victory?"
Jonathan hesitated, running a hand through his hair. "How can I explain it?" He sighed deeply, his voice heavy with weariness. "This didn't feel like a war. It felt... wrong, Johan. As if we were fighting something far beyond our understanding."
He rubbed his temples and chuckled bitterly. "Maybe I'm losing my mind."
Johan shook his head. "No, brother, you're not. I've felt it too—a shadow looming over everything. Victory doesn't feel like the right word."
Before Jonathan could reply, a commotion from the palace gates interrupted their conversation. Shouts echoed through the corridors.
The brothers exchanged a glance before hurrying to investigate.
At the gates, a ragged beggar stood, shouting incoherently. His clothes were tattered, his face smeared with dirt, and his hair wild.
"This is just the beginning!" the beggar screamed. "More will fall! Let me speak to the majesties!"
The guards, offended by the man's audacity, grabbed him roughly. "You dare demand an audience with the princes?"
Each guard seized a shoulder, preparing to throw him out, but Johan's voice cut through the air.
"Stop!"
The guards froze, bowing deeply as the brothers approached. Jonathan narrowed his eyes, studying the beggar closely. Recognition dawned on him.
"I know this man," Jonathan murmured. "He's the one who spoke of a prophecy before."
Curiosity piqued, the brothers ordered the guards to bring the beggar inside.
Inside the palace, the beggar was led to a dimly lit chamber. His frantic demeanor shifted the moment the doors closed. His wild eyes sharpened with unsettling clarity, and his voice deepened, taking on an almost regal tone.
"Have you felt it?" the beggar asked, his gaze piercing.
Jonathan and Johan exchanged uneasy glances.
"Who are you?" Johan demanded. "And how do you know this?"
The beggar chuckled darkly. "I am but a keeper of knowledge too heavy for the young to bear." He turned to Jonathan. "The war you fought was not orchestrated by the Beasts of Sin."
Jonathan flinched, his stomach twisting. "What do you mean?"
The beggar's lips curled into a grim smile. "The Beasts of Sin were afraid, scattered into a frenzy by something far greater. You've felt it yourselves—the balance is shifting. The world is entering a new era."
"What new era?" Johan asked, his voice trembling.
"The calamities have begun to awaken," the beggar said simply.
Silence fell over the room as the brothers processed his words.
"What can we do to protect our people?" Jonathan finally asked.
The beggar's grin widened. "Unite the nations, forge alliances, prepare for a storm like no other. But even that may not be enough."
Johan leaned forward, his fists clenched. "Enough for what?"
The beggar's voice turned cold. "To face what David himself could not conquer."
At the mention of the legendary king, the brothers stiffened.
Jonathan narrowed his eyes. "How do you know about King David?"
The beggar ignored the question. "Train the boy," he said, his tone chilling. "he is the Last Light of Egress."
The room began to tremble. The walls shuddered, the floor cracked, and the brothers fell to their knees. When they looked up, the beggar was gone, vanished without a trace.
Soldiers rushed into the chamber, weapons drawn.
"Your Highnesses, are you alright?"
Jonathan and Johan exchanged a grim look, their hearts heavy with the beggar's ominous warning.
"We're fine," Jonathan said, his voice steady. "But the world... may not be."
As the tremors subsided, a dark realization settled over the brothers. The path ahead was fraught with peril. The Last Light of Egress was their only hope, a fragile spark in an encroaching darkness.
And the calamities, ancient and unstoppable, were awakening.