*A few years before Zerath was made the Crown Prince.*
"Cousin!"
Zerath ran through the forest chasing after Astaroth, who was out hunting wild beasts. Astaroth clicked his tongue in annoyance.
"Why does he have to follow me everywhere!?"
He ignored Zerath's calls and continued walking, his bow ready with the arrow. In the distance, a wild rabbit hopped around the bushes, nibbling on its leaves. His eyes sparkled, recognizing a rare species.
It's a Moonglimmer! Their silvery fur shimmers in the dark. Selling that shiny fur would fetch me some hefty gold, he chuckled.
Astaroth slowed down his steps and took position behind a tree. He aimed the arrow's tip at the rabbit and exhaled a silent breath.
"Cousin!"
The rabbit's ears perked up. In the blink of an eye, it hopped away into the shelter and safety of the bushes. Astaroth's eyes widened and he took a second glance, but the rabbit had escaped. There was no hope to find it again as Moonglimmers were agile and cautious creatures.
Gritting his teeth, he turned to Zerath, furious. "You fool! I just lost such a precious Moonglimmer! Do you realize how much I could've sold it for!?"
Zerath said, "Moonglimmers are a protected species in our realm, cousin. You cannot hunt or sell them. It's illegal."
"Hah! And do you think those laws apply to me? To the great and blessed young lord Astaroth?" He angrily scoffed.
"Laws are the same for everyone, cousin."
Astaroth inhaled deeply. "Give me one good reason for ruining my hunt, or I'll burn you into ashes right here!"
Zerath met his livid gaze and calmly said, "I think there is hope to solve Nethermoor's crisis."
At first, he was dumbfounded but then burst into a peal of disdainful laughter.
"My dear cousin believes he found the answer for the eternal winter, which I, the flame demon, your father, the King and even the Ministry of Magic failed to find in all these years? Have you become too arrogant for your own good?"
"A thought just crossed my mind, and I believe it's worth looking into."
Folding his arms, he sneered. "Sure. Go ahead."
Zerath explained. "We've been looking at the eternal winter only from the perspective of it being a season. Everybody is praying for the season to change, which isn't wrong. That's why Father and the Order of Council are considering asking the Harbinger of Season's help. But our differences with the Human Realm makes it a lot more difficult. We cannot look weak and helpless."
He yawned. "So you're telling me something I'm already aware of?"
Zerath pressed on. "But what if we look at it differently? The eternal winter hasn't just halted the seasons in Nethermoor, but it has blocked the sun as well. The clouds have blanketed over the sun and moon for years now, which has caused mayhem with its solar and lunar cycles."
"So?"
"So you're the blessed Sovereign of the Sun and Shadow. Your elemental flames might prove insufficient, but a God's blessing won't. If you use your divine powers to invoke the sun, there might be a chance to lift the eternal winter."
He froze.
"After all, the sun is essentially a huge ball of fire in itself. I don't think eternal winter could win against that magnitude of heat and power."
Astaroth stood stunned, his lips slightly parted.
"Cousin?" Zerath blinked.
Jolted from his stupor, he looked panicked and disturbed.
"W-what foolishness you're talking about! My blessed powers have nothing to do with Nethermoor's situation!"
Zerath was taken aback. "I think it does. The people there have not seen the sun in ages."
He took out an old scripture from the inside of his overcoat that had slightly dusty and torn pages. He carefully flipped onto one of the middle pages, showing an ancient, mythic illustration of the world.
"I found this scripture in the Royal Library. It says that our world revolves around a mystical ball of fire, what the writer calls the sun. It's said that a thousand years ago, God's wrath led to a giant stone from an unknown realm, almost as big as the palace, crashing into our world. The collision shook our world so hard that it tilted with its impact. A piece of that unknown realm's stone then became our world's moon."
Astaroth took a bored glance at the illustration. The inscriptions looked gibberish to him.
"When God's fury settled, the volcanic mountain was formed in the north, Mount Lavos, and the mythical tree of life took root in the south, Aetherios, to ensure that the tilted world aligned in balance and which regulates the seasons, bringing life into our world."
Zerath continued, breathless and eager. "Cousin. I checked with someone from the Ministry of Knowledge who has devoted his life studying astronomy. In twenty-one days, our world's revolution will bring us to the Summer Solstice. At that moment, the sun will be at its zenith, and this will place Nethermoor in the most effective position under the sun. If you invoke the blessed dance as the Sovereign then, there is hope that its light could break through the winter clouds."
Astaroth's face twisted in disdain. "What utter foolishness are you spouting? As if something like this would work!"
"But cousin, the scripture-"
He ripped the old pages from his hands and hurled it to the ground. Embers of flames bursting forth his palm lit them on fire.
"Cousin!"
"It's nothing but gibberish! Do you really believe these old, dirty pages written by some senile, insane demon? The sun has nothing to do with eternal winter! Hah! The world is tilted? Then shouldn't everything we see and feel today be tilted as well? We shouldn't be able to even stand upright in this 'tilted' world," he sneered.
Zerath gritted his teeth. "It doesn't work like that, cousin."
"Enough! You ruined my joyous hunting time with some gibberish theory of yours that has no heads or tails. Why should I invoke my precious blessed powers for something as meaningless as this!"
"But it doesn't hurt to try-"
Astaroth shoved him away and glared. "I said enough is enough. Don't bring this absurdity in front of me or anybody ever again! Also, Nethermoor is my jurisdiction so stay out of it!"
He stormed off, chest puffing with indignation.
Zerath swiftly dropped to the ground, pouring handfuls of dirt and soil over the burning pages. The flames eventually faded, leaving ashy remnants.
He quietly picked up the scraps and ashes, clenching the burnt pages in his hand. The cinders coated his hand in deep charcoal.
Only…
Only if I had the power...
*Present*
Astaroth felt that old conversation resurface in his mind as if it was just yesterday. As Vivia's sharp questions pierced through the courtroom, the memories of that hunting day came back to him.
Doloros stroked his grey beard as he looked at Vivia, thoughtful and contemplative.
Orobas's eyes narrowed. "...Princess Clairette's questions make sense. Invoking the blessing of the sun might've indeed helped Nethermoor. Did the young lord never consider it?"