PART IV: Ruines
The stairs felt endless.
As Nex climbed, his steps grew slower—weighted not by fatigue, but by thought.
"I knew it was too good to be true," he muttered inwardly, trying to pinpoint the moment he had begun trusting Lord Tywin too much.
When he reached the top, he paused briefly, then opened the door to Tywin's office.
"You sent for me, Lord Tywin," Nex said, keeping his voice neutral. "I hear you wish to speak with me about something."
Tywin took a long second to respond. A dry cough escaped him before his voice emerged, low and firm.
"Yes," he said, locking eyes with Nex this time. "Yes, I did."
"I've summoned you to inform you of the next step in your journey, young prince."
He gestured subtly toward the letter opened on his desk—its imperial seal still intact along the edge. Nex noticed it immediately.
"The next step?" Nex asked, a thin edge of sarcasm in his voice. "It sounds like you've already made the decision for me, Lord Tywin."
"Yes… yes, I have made the decision," he said, voice steady but low. "You see, where I'm from—"
Nex cut him off.
"And where is that exactly?" he asked coldly. "This kingdom you and my mother supposedly hail from—you've never once mentioned its name."
He stepped closer, his eyes narrowing.
"I'm beginning to think it doesn't exist. Or at the very least… not in this continent."
Tywin rose slowly from his chair, the weight of age and power in every step. He approached Nex, his hands calmly folded behind his back. His voice was low, but carried a cutting edge.
"Where I'm from," he began, "it's considered common courtesy to ask permission before inviting guests into someone else's home or estate. Yet you brought your friends here without so much as a word to me."
He stopped directly in front of Nex, towering over him. His posture was composed—almost serene.
Then, without warning, he struck Nex with the back of his hand.
The crack echoed through the room.
"And where I'm from," he said coldly, "you do not interrupt your elders—especially those of higher status—when they are speaking, boy."
Nex slowly straightened up, the sting still fresh on his cheek. Tywin had already turned his back, walking calmly to retake his seat.
A quiet chuckle escaped Nex as he wiped the corner of his mouth. "But I am higher status than you," he said, voice laced with dry defiance. "I'm an Imperial Prince. The Crown Prince of a kingdom, according to you. So how hypocritical of you to claim you're above me."
Tywin sat down, crossed one leg over the other, and leaned back with composed disdain. "Titles are your inheritance, boy. Not your status. Not right now. At this moment, I am the Governor of Lumen, and close friends with the Commander of the High Knights. And you?" He paused, letting the words sting. "You are presumed dead by both the Empire and the kingdom you were meant to inherit."
He gestured lazily to the letter on his desk. "The next step in your journey should be to fix that."
Nex's eyes narrowed. "Well, that's not what I heard you had in mind. According to your son—my first sworn sword—you plan to send me away. Hide me. Keep me out of sight until this war ends. So tell me—how do you expect me to 'fix' being dead by staying hidden from the very people who think I'm gone?"
Tywin exhaled slowly through his nose, almost disappointed. "The Empire believing you're dead… is not worth fixing. Even if you did, your father wouldn't care. The truth is—he's already losing this war."
He leaned forward now, voice lower, darker.
"This Empire cannot survive a war of attrition against three kingdoms, all closing in from different sides. Not without miracle-workers like my son performing the impossible. The odds are slim. And even if we win..."
Tywin's eyes locked onto Nex's.
"Is that the Empire you want to inherit? A shattered ruin of its former glory—dragged into the dirt by your oath-breaking father and his childish politics?"
"Yes!" Nex shouted, his voice echoing off the stone walls. "If it's not completely destroyed, then I can't rebuild it! This corrupt, unjust empire must fall!"
Tywin raised an eyebrow, unshaken. "Unjust, is it?" His voice was quiet but sharp. "Is it only the Empire that's unjust, boy? And once you tear it all down, what then? You think you'll rule with justice and happiness? That you will be different?"
He stood slowly, each word now deliberate. "How many rulers have thought the same, Nex? How many of them lived long enough to see their 'vision' become reality? And of those who did—how many stayed true to their word? How many of them survived long enough to rule the world they dreamed of?"
Tywin leaned forward, his face lit with a grim intensity. "None. Not one. In the entire bloody history of this unjust, wretched humanity—not one."
"You're not special because you were born a prince," he went on, voice darkening. "And just because you were named after death doesn't mean you won't die like the rest of us. Like your mother before you."
A heavy silence lingered before he added, quieter now: "So don't speak to me about justice—not while you're still a child who hasn't even begun to understand the world."
Tywin straightened up and turned toward the window, letting the light fall across his hands clasped behind his back.
"You are an unlucky child, Nex. But there's still a path forward—if you're brave enough to take it. And it starts like this: everyone—and I mean everyone... your sister, your brother, your friends, the court, the generals—they must believe you're dead."
He turned back to face Nex, his tone now low and resolute.
"Then you can begin. Rebuild yourself. Then your kingdom. And maybe—maybe—one day, your empire."
"If I leave my friends to save myself," Nex said, his voice low, trembling, "then how am I any different from my brothers… my sister… or my father?"
Tywin's gaze sharpened, his voice rising with each word. "And you think you're different now?"
He stepped forward, fury simmering beneath his calm exterior. "Is it because of that infant the giant was carrying? Did you save it from the massacre? Is that why you're caring for it? And what—because of that, you believe you're better than your father?"
His tone turned cutting. "How naïve of you, boy. I thought you were smarter than this."
Tywin's eyes burned into Nex. "How many children did you see back at the war camp, when you were a slave for your beloved brother and sister? How many starving, bleeding, dying kids? And what made them different from that baby—or your friends? Why didn't you save them? Were their lives not worth risking your own for?"
He advanced a step closer. "Is that not exactly what your father did—kept you alive while others suffered? He fed you. Clothed you. Sheltered you. Isn't that what you now imagine for that infant?"
A cold scoff left his lips. "And then what?" he spat. "You're a child, surrounded by other children, trying to raise a child. For gods' sake—have you even NAMED the poor thing? How long have you been carrying it around and caring for it?"
He turned and slammed his hand on the desk. "What are you going to say when it grows up and asks you about its parents? That they were 'unfortunate'—and you were lucky?"
Tywin locked eyes with Nex, voice now a seething whisper.
"You don't know what justice is. You're not wise. You're not noble. You're just another scared, stubborn boy pretending that sentimentality makes you good."
"How naive. How fucking naive."
Nex's voice cracked as he stepped forward, his frustration now visible in every twitch of his brow and curl of his fists.
"And what would you have me do?" he shouted. "Be a saint? Save everyone while trampling over myself? Kill to protect others—just like the monsters we fight?"
He stared Tywin down, eyes burning with a mixture of sorrow and defiance.
"What do you think I am? A spoiled brat?"
"You said I don't know what justice is—and you're right. I don't."
His voice dropped. "Because I've never fucking seen it."
"I've only read about it—legends in dusty old books. Braveheart the First. The Lawbringer. The ones who stood for something, who dared to carve justice into a world that never gave it freely." His breath caught. "That's who I aim to be."
He turned away briefly, clenching his fists harder. "No one stands beside me to tell me how to rule. No one believes I'll ever rule. Not here. Not in Aaelthrone. They all look at me like I'm a ghost—someone fated to vanish."
He snapped his gaze back to Tywin. "But I'm still here. I survived. I endured. And they call it weakness—when it was caution. They call it fear—when it was wisdom to obey when I had to. I've shown nothing but resilience and they still treat me like a child with no future."
Nex's voice trembled, but he pressed on.
"And you think my mother would've wanted me to hide? While her people die in a war sparked by a massacre?"
He stepped closer now, anger surging.
"You were her servant! You know who was behind it. And you kept it a secret."
"Why?" he growled. "Why didn't you tell the Emperor? He would've done anything to stop this from becoming war on all fronts. Why did you let it happen?"
"I AM A SERVANT OF YOUR MOTHER—NOT THE EMPEROR, AND CERTAINLY NOT THIS... THIS EMPIRE THAT DOESN'T EVEN TREAT ITS OWN PEOPLE AS HUMAN BEINGS!"
Tywin's roar shook the room, his battle-hardened voice echoing through the halls and even out onto the streets of Lumen. A voice that once commanded soldiers now thundered as a lecture to a boy who dared defy him.
He let out a long, heavy breath.
"Sigh... I served your mother. I knew her better than anyone—dead or alive. There's no one who knows what she would have wanted for you more than I do."
His voice softened, but the command in it remained like iron.
"I will have the guards prepare a carriage. You will leave tonight, after midnight. You'll be taken somewhere safe—until I say otherwise."
He paused, giving Nex a moment.
"You may say your goodbyes. To your friends. To the child. But that is final."
Nex didn't move. He stood, proud and still.
So Tywin added, sharper now:
"Go. Before I change my mind and have your friends killed in front of you."
But Nex's voice rang out with fire.
"I am your king. And you will obey my commands. You shall protect me—and my friends—until we reach Vaelthrone and I reclaim my place as prince."
Tywin chuckled dryly. A slow, bitter sound.
"You've been here just a few nights. And yet—not once—have you commanded me. Not once have you called me your servant. You never even acknowledged the existence of the kingdom your mother came from."
He leaned forward, eyes narrowing.
"But now—now—you claim to be my king?"
He shook his head slowly.
"You're just like your father. A hypocrite."
His voice grew heavier with each word.
"When it suits him, your father calls himself the sworn protector of the empire. And yet he's the one who broke the most sacred oath an Emperor of Augustus is sworn to uphold."
Tywin stepped back toward his desk, suddenly weary.
"I know how it feels, boy. Leaving everything behind—your friends, your family, your past. But just this once, trust me."
"I want you to live. I want the son of Aurora—my queen—to survive. To grow strong. To become wise. But that will not happen here. Not now. And certainly not the way you imagine."
He turned away, voice softening just slightly.
"So say your goodbyes. Let the tears fall. Then move on."
"That's how life works—it keeps going, no matter who or what we lose."
Without another word, Tywin raised his hand, signaling to the guards. They moved to escort Nex out, but he shook them off and left on his own.
As he stepped through the doorway, Nex glanced back one last time.
He saw Tywin alone, sitting at his desk—his fingers pressed against his brow, his face tense, holding back emotions he would never allow to show.