The Emperor stormed into the throne room, his furious footsteps reverberating through the palace. "Damn it!" Absalom bellowed, his anger boiling over. "Where is he? Where did that bastard go?!"
As Absalom's fury threatened to consume him, Queen Sariel's calm voice pierced the air. "Absalom."
Absalom spun around, his eyes blazing. "Sariel, please leave my presence. I'm in a foul mood!"
Unfazed, Queen Sariel approached him, her voice soothing. "Absalom, I know you're angry that Valerus escaped, and an innocent man was executed. But remember, you are the most powerful man in the world. No one defies you and goes unpunished. Mere mention of your name strikes fear into the hearts of your enemies."
Her words worked like a balm on Absalom's wounded pride, and a smile began to spread across his face, his anger dissipating. Queen Sariel's assurance that Valerus would soon face the full force of his wrath only added to his growing calm. "As for that fool who calls himself Valerus el joranda, he will soon learn the fate of those who oppose Absalom Uranus, the great Emperor of Vylonia."
As Absalom's smile grew, he leaned closer to Queen Sariel, his hands gently caressing her face. "You know, my only mistake was marrying that old witch. I wish I had married you sooner." His lips brushed against hers, and they kissed passionately.
Just as their passion ignited, Queen Sariel pulled away, putting a distance between them. "What's wrong? Are you unwell?" Absalom asked, his brow furrowed.
"I'm sorry, my Lord," Queen Sariel apologized. "I've had an upset stomach since yesterday."
Absalom's expression softened with concern. "Have you seen the doctor?"
Queen Sariel shook her head. "No, but I planned to see him later in the evening."
"Please do," Absalom said gently.
With a nod, Queen Sariel excused herself. "I will. Please excuse me." And with that, she left the throne room, leaving Absalom alone with his thoughts.
Princess Alexandra sat before a mirror in her quarters, her slender figure draped in black, her long hair cascading down her back like a river of darkness. As she brushed her hair, memories of her grandfather flooded her mind, and tears trickled down her cheeks, each drop a testament to her sorrow.
A knock on the door interrupted the silence, echoing through the chamber like a lament. "Who is it?" she asked, her voice barely audible.
"My Princess, it's time," a soft voice replied from the other side of the door.
Rising to her feet, she wiped away her tears and stepped out of her room. The entire Thorenzian camp had assembled, all clad in black, each holding a large spherical candle holder with a lit candle inside. The flickering glow of the candles cast a melancholy light on their grief-stricken faces.
Lord Zurich's voice boomed over the crowd's hushed murmurs. "Great Thorenzians, it is a sad night. We have lost a brother, a friend, a father, a grandfather, a fighter, a hero. A star has been extinguished. But I urge us all to be strong in the face of this storm."
The gathering erupted into sobs and wails, some frozen in their grief, tears streaming down their faces. Lord Zurich pressed on, his voice steady. "Lord Ozan, a Prince who never claimed the throne due to the unfortunate circumstances of your birth, your sacrifices shall not be forgotten, my brother. May your soul find rest."
As Lord Zurich concluded his eulogy, he released his spherical light, which began its slow ascent into the night sky. Thousands of glowing orbs followed suit, illuminating the darkness with their collective radiance. Princess Alexandra gazed up at the constellation of lights, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears.
Within her heart, a blazing determination took hold. "Those bastards will pay for this! They must! Else, i won't be able to face grandpa in the afterlife!" she vowed silently, her tears falling like rain. In that moment, she swore to avenge her grandfather's death, or else face the shame of never finding peace in the afterlife.
In the shadows of a nearby corner, Valerus stood, cloaked in darkness and donning the color of mourning. His gaze was fixed on the sorrowful spectacle unfolding before him as the Thorenzians paid their final respects to Lord Ozan. The weight of the moment brought back a memory of a past conversation with the fallen elder.
"Valerus," Lord Ozan's voice echoed in his mind.
"Yes, Lord Ozan," Valerus had replied.
"The Thorenzians have been enslaved for over five centuries. Our hopes lie with your generation to take us home and restore Thorenzia to its former glory. Please don't fail us."
Valerus had met Lord Ozan's eyes with unwavering determination. "You can count on us, Lord Ozan."
As the memory faded, Valerus's gaze returned to the sea of candle lights before him. His expression hardened, and his fist clenched at his side. "Don't worry, Lord Ozan," he whispered to himself. "Leave the rest to us, the shield. Your sacrifices will not be in vain. I swear it on my life!"
With purpose in his stride, Valerus turned and disappeared into the darkness, leaving the mournful glow of the candle lights behind. The night enveloped him, but his resolve remained, a fiery force that would propel his quest for justice and freedom.