IN THE CENTER OF THE COUNCIL TABLE NOW STOOD A MASSIVE REPRISE OF CONSTELLATIONS. Seated upon it, Ishtar had materialized, her radiance dazzling, her presence undeniable. Around her, the gods of the pantheon glowed with their usual divine authority.
"We have ignored this matter long enough…" Ishtar declared, her voice echoing across the vaulted hall. "Now it stands before us. You swore an oath, King of Humanity, and broke it. How do you suppose we move forward from this without consequences?" she gritted out.
Every eye turned to the king. He stood tall, calm. Gilgamesh met Ishtar's piercing gaze. His expression gave nothing away. "I recall also saying, should misfortune fall upon my realm, it would be my burden to bear," he said, his tone cold. "So why remain silent, when even your two cents could have spoken without expense?"
Ishtar sneered, "Very well. This is what happens when gods and mortals defythe natural order without consequences.Mixing our blood has given birth to anomalies. Behold— the 'Heir of destruction,' She pointed a finger at Artizea."This is what we have been warned against since the very beginning: Beasts and Monsters! Now stand out in the open, clear as any sunny day!"
Artizea's jaw tightened, faint bruises ghosting her skin, a reminder of the pain she had inflicted and endured, but she kept her composure. "I am not a monster," she said firmly.
Silence filled the area, then Ishtar laughed sharply. "Tell that to the ruins of your city. Tell it to the people whom you claim to love, Preach it to those who have lost more than their share of fate. You cannot deny what you are to them now… For if you truly loved your subjects, you would turn yourself in."
Gilgamesh stepped forward. "We know what she is. She is my daughter. Everyone should do well to remember that," he said calmly, "Along with the fact, it is because of my heir you have a mere coin to add, but let me remind you that you do not decide what happens to my realm."
"How you destroy your realm is the least of my concern, King of humanity. As a matter of fact, I am cheering for you. Save me the paperwork. It is what happens after— that concerns me so." Ishtar snapped, her gaze narrowing. "You think you can control what has been unleashed? Be my royal guest, for the only question I ask now is for the safety of my realm…so I do not look up in the sky and see a fire-breathing celestial killing beast in it." She gazed at the queen, then she smirked. "Have you told them how you threw her into her death on the Rite, where she could have been slaughtered had my son been ordered to strike? For only a celestial can kill another celestial—"
"Ha," he interrupted, a dry laugh escaping. "Now that we are gathered, the Rite is canceled, under the context of threat. Thank you for that."
Ishtar scoffed, waving her hand dismissively. "Do as you must," she said, waving her hand in dismissal, "I know your arrogance has always blinded you, King. Gilgamesh. But this is no longer a conversation you can escape. Time is up, and it is time to pay the price we all must pay."
Another god, pale and stoic, spoke from across the table. "Ishtar has a point, Monarch of humanity. The balance between our realms has always been fragile. Your daughter's existence threatens that balance."
"She will butcher her realm, and then come for ours too—for us all!" another god exclaimed." Blasphemous—""I say we vote for execution! like we should have done years ago!"
"ENOUGH!"Gilgamesh's hand slammed onto the table, the sound reaching the heavens along with a pulsing shock wave of red and vermilion.
"Do you hear the council, Humanity?" Ishtar said. "Do you truly believe the heavens will not tolerate this insult much longer?
Artizea clenched her fists, anger flaring in her chest. "I did not ask for this power," she said, her voice ringing with defiance. "But I have accepted it with he intention of mastering it. I do not wish to become your threat—but I am my realm's protector….and I will protect it especially from you."
Ishtar chuckled, "From me?" then burst into laughter, "It is not I that humanity needs protection from. You call yourself a protector, yet you cannot even protect yourself from your true nature—much less your subjects." Her gaze bored into Artizea. "You are an awakened volcano that slept for good reason. Now that you have erupted, you are as predictable as wildfire and as unpredictable as any storm, and with that wrath, you will consume everything in your path—just as your predecessor did before you."
"And what says your King?" Gilgamesh pressed, "What has Demetrezth Rimat to add?"
Rhyssand, along with the celestial chamber, turned to Celestia's King upon his true name was called upon.
"Your dearest wife speaks of fear—fear of us mortals rising to meet the gods. Tell me, Demeter, do you fear the consequences of touching my family again, while I still draw breath?"
Ishtar glared at him, daring him not to side with her.
Demeter stared at humanity's king, emotionless, and as usual, said nothing.
Ishtar smiled softly and countered, "And why should we not fear it? Look at what your arrogance has wrought. Ash!"
Before Gilgamesh could reply, Arthuria stepped forward, "My daughter is no mistake. It was your mistake to challenge us a third time." Her gaze burned into the goddess. "I am no god, nor am I as strong as I once was. But I am a mother. I am the Queen of this realm, and I assure you the King will not sit idly by while any of our children's lives are threatened. You ask what comes next? Very well, for here is your answer—Council convenes at dawn tomorrow. Or the bell is rung."
"Is this the verdict of humanity's monarchy?" Ishtar scoffed.
"Damn right it is," Gilgamesh growled.
Ishtar's gaze swept her faltering council, weak ass men, she thought, scowling.
Artizea countered. "And I choose the latter."
The room stilled.
She took a deep breath. "I choose peace. The throne I will inherit is not yours to take, nor is it mine to give; it belongs to my people," she looked toward her father, "AndI will defend it and them, with everything you say I am."
Rhyssand surprisingly stepped forward, his attention still fixed on his father specifically, "Your majesty— in my time here, my findings are thus as follows, the Crown Princess's existence is not a threat, in fact, I see it as an opportunity. A chance to build a future where mortals and gods coexist as they did on the first dawn, not just as allies, but as something more…" he said, while shifting his gaze to Artizea, "Would that not be true balance?"
Arthur rolled his eyes from outside the chamber, pressing his ear further into the wooden door.
"I am sure if you asked—" Eugene stated.
"Will you shut the hell up? I am trying to listen to the son of a bitch." Arthur hissed.
"What is up your ass today?" Eugene grunted, turning away.
"And what makes you so certain of that, Rhyssand?" Demeter finally replied calmly.
Ishtar's gaze snapped to Demeter, her lips curling in disdain. "On what authority—" she lightly chuckled
"Because I have seen her strength from afar and up close. Her heart is deemed worth a thousand Souls. For the simple fact that she has faced what no god or mortal should have endured, yet still emerged stronger for it. That is not something to fear…it is something to respect." Then turn his attention from Artizea to the hand of the queen. "What say you, Azeraphel?"
"I-i agree…" Azeraphel stuttered.
"Are you quite well?" Ishtar hissed.
"Council?" Demeter inquired. ignoring his wife's tantrum while he met her glare unflinching.
At first, there were conflicting answers in murmurs, for the king had never been present in any debate heard. Why now?
Gilgamesh turned to the council, "If the heavens cannot see the potential in what we have created, then perhaps it is you who needs change. Artizea is my daughter and the future queen. Any who would challenge that will find themselves facing me." His glare swept across the assembled gods, daring any to oppose him.
"All in favor, say amen."
Ishtar's eyes narrowed, but she said nothing, her aura dimming slightly, as the verdict rang around her.
"Very well, this degree is now in effect, until my reign is no longer." Gilgamesh decreed. "The next monarch will decide its consequence," winking in his daughter's direction
Artizea gave a smile to the council around her, her father, Mother, the council, Rhyssand… She was not alone. She had never been.
Ishtar clenched her fists. "This is not the end, Gilgamesh…" her voice venomous. With that, the projection vanished in a burst of golden light, leaving the chamber in a state of victory and cheers.
Rhyssand smiled faintly at Artizea, who returned the gesture. Gilgamesh placed a heavy hand on her shoulder. "You did well," he said, softer now. "But this is only the beginning. Ishtar will not stop. Neither will her council."
Artizea nodded, offering a weary smile.
"Your Highness," a voice called. "Word from King Alexander."
"Late as usual…" Gilgamesh replied, moving off to speak with the messenger.
Artizea felt a presence. She turned to find Rhyssand lingering at the edge of the room, his usual confidence gentled.
"How are you feeling?" he asked quietly. His voice was steady, but his eyes searched her face. It had been some time since they had last spoken.
"I-i'm…" Artizea hesitated, then sighed. "The people do not like me, right now."
"Then face them," Rhyssand said simply. "Show them who you truly are, a woman who fights for them. The one who protects them." His hand drifted to the glowing red pendant at her chest, pulsing faintly with her essence, a small smile tugging at his lips. "It suits you," he said.
Artizea smiled faintly, her fingers brushing the gem. "It hurts my neck," she teased. "Do I have to wear it even when I sleep?"
"Yes, you do," he replied, "How else will I hear your soul alive. beating for me, will you fault me for keeping you close, even when I cannot hold you?… Feel you, even when I cannot touch you?… Be certain you will wake up and still remember you are mine?"
Do I truly mean that much to you? Artizea thought while breathing slightly. "How much longer…" she whispered, quickly composed herself, only to falter again when his hand brushed her cheek briefly. The gesture was subtle, but it sent a jolt through her all the same.
He wanted to tell her, needed to. Instead, he closed his eyes and pulled away; "Until you're out of the clear. I will not risk you." his eyes lingered on hers for a moment longer. "I have to go, Ally," he said, his voice tinged with reluctance.
Artizea nodded, her heart aching more than she cared to admit. "Thank you, Ally…"
He smirked faintly, the mischievous glint in his eyes returning. "You are most welcome, Princess. Good luck," he turned and walked away.
Artizea's fingers tightened around the necklace, the faint red glow of the gem matching the warmth still lingering on her ears. In the silence that followed, she realized that despite the doubts and fears swirling around her, until she remembered what Eugene said, "A public display of strength and harmony goes a long way in quelling rumors, etc." She left the chamber with the weight of what she must do now settled. And she would face it, unmasked.
ARTIZEA
The destruction of the temple left the city shaken. The temple had been a sacred space for the people who had little to nothing, and here it lay in ruins. Whispers spread quickly, sowing doubt and fear among the common folk.
Artizea felt the weight of their disappointment in herself, for she had not just failed as a leader; she had frightened the very people she was meant to protect. She decided to face the people directly, forsaking her royal attire, and donned a simple, unadorned gown in mourning black, her golden hair loose, free of adornments. She refused to bring an escort of knights, wanting to show vulnerability rather than authority.
"1, 2, 3," Artizea repeated. She began to walk across the ruins of the temple. The people gathered in uneasy silence, their eyes following her every move, their murmurs rustling like wind through broken stone. The ground was raw, and though parts of it had been cleared, the shards remained. She climbed onto a smaller stone, then another, sharper one that cut into her skin, but she did not flinch. Each step was deliberate, a silent vow. At last, she reached the highest slab, elevated for this occasion, her heart pounding against her ribs.
Before her stood her people—workers with dust-stained hands, merchants in faded silks, elders leaning on canes, children clutching the hems of their mothers' garments. Faces of doubt, curiosity, and weariness turned toward her.
"My people," she began, her voice steady though emotion pressed hard against her chest. "I stand before you not as your Crown Princess, but as a woman who has made a grave mistake."
The murmurs grew louder, then quieted as she raised her hand gently.
"When I lost control of my power, I did more than destroy a temple. I destroyed your faith in me. I let my emotions, my fears, and my burdens consume me, and in doing so, I failed you." Her voice wavered slightly, but she continued. "I cannot undo what has been lost. I cannot bring back those who have been taken or erase the fear I caused. But I can promise you this—," She stepped toward the edge. "I will never forsake you, I will never leave you to suffer at the hands of foreigners. I will fight—For you, For your children, For our home! Till my very last breath. For I am not just a Princess. I am one of you. I feel the same joys and sorrows, as well as hopes and dreams. And like you, I am learning. I am growing. I will stumble… But I will rise, for the better—and so will we."
Artizea knelt on the platform, lowering herself before the people. "Please allow me the chance to rebuild what I have broken, not just the temple. Let me earn your faith, not with words, but with deeds."
Her words hung in the air. Until finally, a small voice broke the silence. A young boy, no older than eight, stepped forward from the crowd. He held a blue rose, the petals slightly wilted but still beautiful in their simplicity. He approached the platform hesitantly, his wide eyes fixed on Artizea. "For you," the boy said softly, holding out the flower crown. "Crown Princess."
Artizea's breath caught, tears welling in her eyes. bowing her head slightly to place the crown gently on her hair.
"Thank you," Artizea whispered, her voice breaking.
Artizea had spent the day baring her heart to the people, while also helping with rebuilding, and now, she found herself surrounded by her family, the weight of their unspoken thoughts pressing on her.
Arthuria, seated beside her daughter for a change, reached out and placed a gentle hand on her arm. "What you did today," she said softly, her voice filled with pride, "It was brave. I am so proud of you."
Artizea looked up at her mother, the corners of her lips lifting in a faint smile. "Thank you, Mother."
Across the table, Arthur set down his goblet and leaned back in his chair, "Never thought you had a way with words…"
Artizea arched an eyebrow, smirking slightly. "Was that a compliment, Brother? Eugene, Mark the day—" She glanced around the table, then frowned. "Where is he—"
Arthur gave a low chuckle. "We were all bestowed the grand prize—" he drummed his fingers on the table with mock solemnity, "—of one free pass in this life to miss a mandatory breakfast or dinner."
Elaine's giggling was so contagious that the table joined in.
Arthur shot her a crooked grin. "One at a time. Except for you—"
Gilgamesh's glare cut across the table, heavy as iron, silencing him in an instant.
Arthur's lips pressed into a thin line. "Sorry, Dad…" he muttered.
"No, it is fine," Artizea hesitated, fingers toying with the rim of her cup, "And, you are right, I do not, Rhys gave me the idea."
The room stilled. His name hung there. No one dared move, not even the head of the table, who had no right to anyway.But his wife did.
"So… who is this Rhys, Truly?" Arthuria said with a grin, her eyes flicked between her husband and daughter. "A potential suitor?"
Artizea stiffened, but before she could respond, Elaine blurted out with a mischievous grin, "He's her boyfriend!"
Arthur's jaw ticked.
Gilgamesh choked on his wine, coughing, "Now wait, just a minute—" he wheezed.
"He's more like… somewhere between a companion…" Artizea interjected quickly, successfully hiding her blush, "Maybe even a friend."
"And her boyfriend!' Elaine squealed.
Their father choked again, this time on air, while their mother patted his back with a smile.
Artizea could feel it, the murderous radiating from Arthur even as they sat in silence. His usual demeanor was dulled by an uncharacteristic hesitation, his hands clenched into fists on the table.
"Arthur," Artizea said, her voice cutting through the stillness. "What is the matter?"
He did not respond immediately, as if avoiding her gaze would make the weight of the moment disappear.
"Arthur," she repeated, more firmly this time. "I am not blind. Something's been off since I woke up. What are you hiding from me?"
"It is not for me to say." He shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
Her frustration bubbled to the surface. "You have never had a problem speaking your mind before. What has changed now?"
His sharp eyes flicked to hers, a flicker of guilt and anger in their depths. "Why do you not ask him yourself?"
Her heart skipped a beat. Him.
There was no doubt in her mind who he was referring to. "Him?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Arthur did not respond, his silence confirming her suspicion.
"Arthur—" she demanded, rising from her seat. Finally, He stood as well, "No—," towering over her. "You said it yourself," he said, his tone heavy. "It is no longer my place to interfere with the burdens you choose to carry. So go to him like you always do, Artizea. Let him be the one to tell you the truth. Because I am done being the one to tell you I told you so."
She stared at her brother, the storm of emotions swirling in her chest threatening to overwhelm her. She wanted to push him, to demand answers, but she knew he would not budge. Arthur was many things, but when he made up his mind, he was immovable. Without another word, she turned on her heel and left the room.
Arthur watched her leave, his expression grim. He wanted to protect her, to shield her from the pain he knew was coming. But he also knew she deserved the truth, no matter how much it might hurt. And that was a truth she had to face herself. Artizea's footsteps faded down the hall, the echo of the slammed door still vibrating in the air.
"Brother—" Elaine called out.
"I know—" Arthur cut her off, his tone sharp, though the edge faltered as his hand flew to his side. A dark stain spread through the fabric where his stitches had torn loose. "Shit…" He staggered, collapsing back into his chair.
"Arthur!" Arthuria 's voice cracked, already moving, the color draining from her face.
His father's composure cracked; he lunged forward, slinging an arm beneath him and hauling him upright.
Arthur groaned, pressing his palm hard against the wound, his chest rising and falling in shallow bursts.
"Elaine, fetch the healers. Now," he barked.
Elaine nodded sharply and darted out.
But Arthruia was already storming down the halls, "I HAD FOUR CHILDREN, AND THEY CAME OUT FASTER THAN THIS! WHERE ARE THE GODSDAMN HEALERS WHEN YOU NEED THEM?"
Arthur slowly lifted his gaze, locking eyes with his father.
Gilgamesh had said nothing throughout the argument, and he said nothing now. Yet his eyes were heavy with the weight of everything unsaid.
Arthur clenched his jaw, forcing a bitter chuckle through the pain. "I hear you, Dad."
Artizea paced the length of the second Prince's chamber, her steps quick and restless.
Euegene sat cross-legged on the floor in inner peace, his hands glowing faintly while he worked on a small magical orb. "You are going to wear a hole in my floor," Eugene warned.
"I need your help…" She paused mid-step.
"What is this about, Artizea? Because I would rather not use my one and only pass on—"
"I need you to contact someone for me," she said finally, her voice quieter than usual.
He frowned. "Who?"
"Rhys."
Eugene blinked, his hands stilling. Then glanced in her direction, "Rhys? Why would you need my help?"
"Because he said I could not until I was out of the clear—" she interrupted. "So I need you to say it is you."
He tilted his head, his curiosity piqued. "Why?"
Artizea hesitated, her arms crossing defensively. "Because I need answers," her voice softened. "He can read me like a book, even across realms."
With a resigned nod, He focused on the orb, His hands weaving through the air while he muttered a spell. It began to glow brighter, its surface rippling. "Alright," He said, his voice steady. "Tell me where you want him to meet you, well, me."
"At our spot," Artizea breathed out, turning to leave. "Thank you—"
"Sister—"
"Yeah?'
"How…How did you find out?" Eugene asked hesitantly.
"A scholar girl, Jean…" She whispered, "She found something that led to finding the truth myself."
He nodded. "I am sorry."
She nodded back.
When she left, his expression turned concerning. There are no scholars in the palace. And no one named Jean—