Two days later, the streets of Arkthar awoke crowded with voices and footsteps. People jostled to reach the central square, where the great magical panel had been erected to broadcast the execution of Amulius Byzantine—the man whom the people, in confusion, called both traitor and hero
Richard was among those who would witness his brother's judgment personally. On that day, his younger brother was to be executed..
During these days of waiting, he observed a massive stone wall, the Wall of Lamentations. There, the story of the heroes who founded the city was carved, the first city to withstand time and adversity, a place of unity and refuge.
Richard extended his hand to that history as if he could touch the meticulously carved mural. The names of the heroes… he didn't really know them; in fact, no one did, for time had swept away everything they had, including who they were.
Above him stood two colossal statues, both pointing toward the horizon — a Father and a Son, long forgotten Guardians, as they were now called. And watching the sun, they observed the twilight.
At that moment, a carriage approached, and a man stepped out. Richard stepped back from the carved wall and watched the carriage arrive from a distance. Preparations were underway, and soon the people would arrive. Richard thought that this was the only chance to speak to his brother once more.
But the man who emerged from the carriage was not Amulius, but another. His hair was red as blood, long and tied back, his face sharp and beautiful, his gaze penetrating, and the orange hue of his irises conveyed strictness, complemented by his armored attire.
Even he, that day, was silent… in mourning.
Soldiers followed him, and finally, Amulius Byzantine appeared.
At that moment, Amulius felt anxious; his death was approaching, but he was not afraid of that...not of death. He feared more the faces that might appear in the crowd. And the first he met was that of his own jailer. He laughed at the situation.
"Of all people… I'm glad it was you who accompanied me now, Julius."
Julius, the captain, was the first to descend from the carriage, but the friendly and calm way Amulius addressed him caused soldiers under his command to strike Amulius for insubordination.
"Traitor!" "You bastard!"
The two soldiers hit him first in the stomach, then near the chin. Amulius almost fell… They were strong, but he resisted… as he always had.
Julius raised his hand, and with this gesture… held back the soldiers. Then, with his other palm, he made sigils and silently communicated to Amulius's mind, bypassing the awareness of the other soldiers.
A final private conversation.
"Amulius, my friend and brother, this is goodbye… If you have something to say to someone you love… now is the time."
Amulius snorted knowingly and confidently replied in his friend's mind:
"If I had something to say…" He paused mid-sentence and said aloud for everyone to hear, "I would say it in person."
Julius's eyes widened in shock, then he laughed… He recognized his friend in that phrase. This did not help him carry out his duty. His feelings were heavy… He did not want to be there, nor to do this to someone who had fought alongside him in the war and against the Vineyard Revolt.
"We'll meet again someday," declared Julius, continuing the necessary rituals. "And when my time comes, meet me at the bar; I am buying.
He scanned Amulius's mind for contact with outsiders but found none. He checked for magical teleportation stones, knowing that disappearing in plain sight was one of Amulius's tricks. In his heart, Julius secretly wished Amulius would escape so they could drink together one last time as when they were young, but he knew Amulius would not flee—not this time.
Amulius, meanwhile, smiled secretly. He knew there was no time to bid farewell to everyone, but in his way he viewed this as the best and only option to everyone involved, and then he sought the face of one person in the capital, someone who had been his inspiration since childhood.
He was led by chains by Julius and noticed, out of the corner of his eye… the people arriving.
His execution approached, along with his fear. Before being captured, he had someone he loved, just like Julius, but had never spoken the words. Perhaps now… in the twilight of his life… Amulius wondered if he could have done things differently… saved more lives instead of taking them in pursuit of an ideal. Catharina…
A name chained to his lips, now trapped in bitterness and tenderness. If he could have said how much he loved her… he would have. If he could have held her… he would have done it. At this moment, it was perhaps what he desired most.
But ambition, the executioner, and the Wolf that gave him fame… would never allow it.
He raised his eyes. Confident still, he would not fall like a whining dog or plead for mercy.
As he ascended the ramp, he glanced at the Wall of Lamentations, observing the stories of the ancient heroes who founded the city he lived in and was now about to die in.
"What a joke," he muttered.
He did not believe in heroes, much less those claiming to be their descendants. He was certain the heroes had died just as he was about to—believing in something.
"But nothing matters now. Maybe I was the fool after all."
This was all Amulius Byzantine thought. But then his sharp eyes followed the wind, guiding his gaze to the top of the platform… where he saw the one person he simultaneously wanted and did not want to see.
It was Richard… his older brother.
They stared at each other intensely, saying nothing.
Amulius, chained and pulled to be placed in the execution apparatus, focused only on his brother. Then, summoning all his strength, he tried to create a telepathic communication channel with his remaining magic… and succeeded, for Amulius had long been considered a prodigy in the field of entropy.
"What will you eat after my execution?"
The question surprised Richard; he did not know how to answer, so he remained silent.
Knowing his older brother, Amulius smiled briefly, looking ahead… noting more people arriving for his execution.
"You know… I feel hurt, don't you? Couldn't you… at least arrange a funeral for me? I hope you eat something great."
Richard, serious and rigid unlike his charismatic brother, could not express his feelings in words. Usually, he wrote poems to cope and hoped for a final chance to recite them to his brother.
"Brother," said Amulius, looking at the sky, "today will be quite a day, you know? Don't be bitter about my death. You are my hero, always have been, and I love you for that."
Richard remained silent. At that moment, a man so accustomed to loss felt his world shatter… He had come seeking reunion, not separation. He wanted to fix things, but now… he did not know what to do… for the first time in his life.
Amulius knew all this… He had no doubt about his brother's feelings. He knew him so well that he could enumerate every gesture without missing a blink. Such was his admiration, yet life had always separated them...divided them. Now, they would not speak of separation—only savor the final moments of unity and brotherhood.
Hours passed. Amulius and Richard remained in telepathic communication for several hours, silent. They loved each other… they knew it. Words were not unnecessary. Yet Richard had matters to resolve in his mind, and he was not about to give up.
He had arranged several plans before coming to the execution site, hoping his allies that he gathered over the months would prevent this moment, but one of his contacts had disappeared or been captured, unable to attend the trial just some days earlier.
What he did not know was that this was a deliberate act by someone who also… had a noose around their neck. Amulius was the one who chose that fate.
"People of Arkthar!" shouted the announcer, and the trumpets resounded… The execution was imminent.
Crowds gathered from all districts, witnessing the emergence of a new legend among the vineyards of the Mercantile Country. His fame rivaled that of the most renowned kings of neighboring lands, such as Aaron IV, the King of Kings, and the infamous Yero "The Sunbearer," the holy knight of the gods of the Golden Circle."
"Everyone knows the crimes of this Light Sinner!" declared the announcer. "Assault, looting, arson, vandalism, murder… all know what this man did to our nation, and he is condemned to divine justice!"
A young woman stood up, one of the organizers of the execution spectacle. Kylie of House Orlean, dressed in white with adornments matching her golden hair and eyes, her skin like honey, observing the scene with superiority and passion.
"I hope that after today, our country enters a new era of peace, by the Light of the Sun Dragon God, Kayrgor. We will no longer be intimidated by the tyranny of fear and the violence of evil."
It was a majestic and powerful speech, enhanced by the architecture and mystical environment. Everyone watched Kylie, moral authority apparent, while Amulius was declared guilty and villainous.
The announcer, smiling sadistically, restrained himself to deliver the rehearsed speech.
"Does the condemned have any final words?"
Amulius sighed deeply. The moment had come. During the war, he had uncovered a terrible truth hidden in the ruins of lost civilizations. He could not communicate it to those he trusted most.
He knew he had a purpose. A new era was coming, and the main character of the old one could not witness the future.
"Regarding my command of the Blue Lilies, I tell you, proud citizens of my hometown: here lie darknesses masked by light; through me and my stories you will hear something unseen before—a tale of adventure, romance, battles, and tragedies that would make bards seem like second-rate storytellers. Today, I give you one last chance to understand what lies beneath the sky and the starry night."
He looked once more at his brother and spoke through their connection:
Richard was about to jump off to face every single one of the guards and save his brother at last, but he was stopped… one last time by his brother that with a single dispersion of his magical energy…made his mind crumble.
"Brother, if you meet Catharina in 'The Lupins,' tell her that I…"
His words cut off. Richard had said nothing; he could not have said anything. Hoping his allies would intervene, he looked in all directions, pleading for the gods to guarantee him one more chance. But, nothing happened… Nothing at all
He would act, but his brother's intentions and words stopped him. Amulius knew his brother planned to save him, but it had failed… because he had chosen to die.
Thus, in the presence of thousands in the Guardians' Square of Arkthar, on the 25th day of the ninth month of the year 1536 of the Light… at 15:35, Amulius Byzantine died. The Hero of Kaladan.