In the heart of Elarion, was a man inside the cathedral, clad in priestly robes. He stood in front of statues of the Sovereigns, his eyes looking down. Sunlight poured through the stained glass above, scattering all over the marble floor like liquid flame.
That same light reached him, touching his shoulders, his chest, the edges of his sleeves, casting a wavering pattern across him like water in motion. He stood still, his lips moving in a quiet prayer.
"Guide my steps, O Sovereigns, as you guide the stars."
Outside, a bell rang gently- It was time for him to go attend to the sick.
"Where I cannot see, let thy grace go before me,"
He was known as Veyrun, the Crown of Light.
"Where I cannot reach, let thy will go before me,"
As the leader of the church, he had long devoted both soul and body to serve the greater good of the people.
"And for those who have fallen, gather them with thy merciful hands and carry them where grief does not follow,"
He had witnessed the dark red rain that fell at the previous night, he had heard about what had happened to Belfast kingdom. He could not do anything else but pray. Lives had already been lost, and that wouldn't change no matter what he did.
The gong of the bell reverberated across the massive chapel, reminding him of his work. He bowed slightly as he gracefully walked towards gigantic doors that seemed to open up by themselves, revealing three men dressed in white robes.
"Greetings to The Crown of Light." They all said as they bowed. Veyrun extended his arm towards them- a sign to ask them to stop bowing.
"How are the people? Have you tended to the sick?" He asked, his voice gentle.
"Yes. The priests have already purified and healed them."
"I see.. That is splendid. Have you been able to find any chosen one?" He asked.
"Yes. The Princess of Orith Kingdom has been confirmed to have divine power."
Veyrun remained silent for a short time.
"I see, if it is the will of the Sovereigns then we shall respect it. Follow protocol to have her brought to the empire when the time comes."
"As you wish."
They all bowed in unison, excusing themselves as they walked away.
Veyrun continued walking, his mind now burdened with questions that he'd rather avoid. Now that the priests had already healed the sick, he walked back towards his chambers, wondering if he should pray again or head outside to greet the people.
****
"So this is the boy huh..." May said as he looked at Renard from afar. Contrary to what she was told, Renard appeared to be in a good mood as he savoured the food.
"Yes. Turns out he had never tasted honey before.." Velka said as she observed him, a smile forming on her face.
Even though temporary, the little boy was happy, that was enough for now.
"I have done everything you requested." May said, handing Velka a bag full of documents and some old books.
"These are...." She asked, her eyes focused on the books inside.
"Some books about Arcano-Theoretical Foundations, and some mana dynamics. Think of them as a farewell gift to the boy," May replied.
"May! Stop standing over there and come join us!" Mordain shouted. It was an inn- almost everyone was shouting, whether talking to their accomplices, ordering another round or just drunk.
Renard had found safety in that noisy place as he talked to Neil, interacted with Mordain, watched as Jin got sent around as he grumbled under his breath, as he tasted the honey he had heard so much about- He felt safe.
He felt as if he was back home.
He laughed and smiled, his innocence coming back to him, filling up the void that was left in his heart.
"He looks good now." Velka commented as they walked towards the group. As they did, Renard turned towards May, his eyes locking with hers.
For a brief second, May couldn't move. Renard's eyes gave out a crimson glow, his face showing distrust.
"Don't worry Ren, she's working for us." Neil said, jolting Renard out of his intense gaze.
"What was that???" May wondered. That was not a normal gaze- it felt like it had torn through her mortal body, peering into her soul. Composing herself quickly, she got into what had brought her here. She explained everything in detail.
"I see." Jin said, "So now he has to use a different name?"
"Ren is okay, as for the second name I'll leave that for you all to choose. In the documents I handed over to Velka, he is under Neil's family name."
"So, we are going under the pretense that I am an Orphan that Sir Neil has adopted?" Renard asked. Since he now had some control over his emotions, he could now act as he was in formal meetings- speaking how a king would.
"Y-yes, that is what we will go with." Velka said, surprised by the change in tone.
"Furthermore, there are permits to allow you to pass all checkpoints of the empire. Normally adventurers of your rank do not really need such, but since you have a new member, it cannot be helped." May added.
"When should we depart?" Neil asked.
"Today evening. The Permits expire in thirty days, and you will need to avoid the route that passes through Glaslot kingdom.."
They all knew the reason- As much as they could hide Renard's identity and appearance, they cannot hide his crimson eyes. The elves could immediately tell that he's a dark elf. He also had the mark of an Aetherion. Passing through the land of those who killed his race- they didn't know what could happen, especially if the hate he has towards them would trigger his awakening as an Aetherion.
It was better to be safe and take the route that passes by the barren lands, into the land of dungeons, then to the port city of Orith kingdom, where they could take a ship towards Elarion.
Time passed by fast as they talked, signing necessary documents and planned their budget.
Renard who was in the middle of them all, listened as they made all the necessary plans, adjusting them for him. Even if he was still but a child, immature in the ways of the world, he was still a noble- a prince at that. He could understand, he could tell when they did some certain actions or plans for him, he could understand whatever they avoided saying to avoid hurting him.
On that very meeting, Renard made a goal- to have his revenge on all those who massacred his species. He will regain his rightful name of Belfast, and he will regain his position as the rightful heir to the throne.
Even if his kingdom was now in ashes.
These self promises engraved themselves deep in his heart.
They were not words spoken aloud, nor oaths bound by ritual,but truths etched in pain, in memory, and in the blood that still called out from the ashes of his fallen kingdom.
And though no crown rested upon his head, and no throne waited for him...the last heir had made his vow- his oath, his burden, his song.
The ode of the last heir.