Antares watched as the fire crackled. The day's events continued to flash across his mind. His father was gone and yet it did not feel real, it seemed as though the world was that much quieter. He stood atop the hill long after the fire from the funeral pyre had died out and found himself staring at another fire within his fathers study. He leaned by the fireplace lost in thought, of what he would do next with his life. To him, he had completed what he came back for, it was time for him to leave, for good this time. It had been a thought he had been battling for some time now, not just leaving Iliad, but perhaps Aurum entirely. His life here had been filled with moments of levity but drowned out by so much misery. In that moment as he watched the fire crackle he understood why Hyperion left all those years ago.

  Antares gazed around the room, it had been almost an entire decade since he last stepped foot in here. His father's study was a mystery to him in many ways, not only in that his presence here felt foreign, but it was as though he could still feel his father in this room. It brought him comfort. Each wall was dominated with books of various kinds, in languages he knew and in others he did not. It was evident that his father had not been in this room for a very long time as the dust continued to hang in the air. He moved around the room and looked at the various books; The Path of Axel, Age of Monsters & Men, Soul Transfiguration. These were some of the books he knew, from sneaking in here when he was younger, at the time he did not understand them, but his desire was not to understand, more so to just see what his father did in here. And from that a desire was born to consume knowledge as his father did.

  Magic was used in the construction of this room along the many rooms within castle Xerxes. One would be remiss for underestimating the true size of the room. For it was truly greater than it had any reason to be. Each wall decorated with tapestry of ancient Stygian tales of valor and virtue. Within the purple fabric, woven golden words spoke of times long past. Veils hung from the ceiling shrouding the room from the harshness of the sunlight. The wooden floor masked all footsteps, even and fresh as though they were only placed days ago. It was a room fit for a king, it was the king's chambers.

  A large mahogany table was placed far against the wall by the windows. His skin nearly matching the color of the table, he approached it. Antares dragged a finger across the table and memories from his youth flashed across his eyes. So much had changed and yet here he remained, all the same. He walked around the large table and sat on the chair. On the table were many scattered papers, some containing his fathers handwriting. He did not read what he wrote, more so he was interested in studying his fathers handwriting. For the many stories he had learned about his father over the years and the gruesome victories he won. There was a softness in his handwriting, the way the letters sat next to each other carefully. He could feel the passion behind every word written. Antares wondered if there were any tales of his fathers pen ship. He lowered his head in shame, the pain he felt would be one that perhaps this time he would not be able to fully suppress. For this loss was too great. He did not know if he would be able to withstand it a moment longer. In an effort to distract himself, his mind shifted to the elders and their arrival. He had still not devised a response strong enough to absolve him of any responsibility. The truth of the matter is that he was in no position to rule anyone. He could not even rule over his own emotions, and given what kind of ruler Iliad would need right now; he was not that. He was just as lost as his people were.

  "By Strigga, you look just like him."

  Antares raised his head, "Mother?" he began to stand. "Forgive me I did not hear you come in."

  Lady Alena raised her hand, "It is alright, please sit." She approached him. " I was looking for you, and thought you might have been here."

  "I needed a moment to think about some things," Antares responded.

  Lady Alena picked up one of the papers on the desk and smiled, "Ah he never finished this did he?"

  "What is it?" Antares asked.

  Lady Alena handed him the paper and he began to read it. For as long as Antares had known his father, he knew him to be a man of few words, if any at all. King Barranagan was a man whose mere presence spoke for him, rarely did he speak unless it was required and once only had he raised his voice. Antares had thought that he had seen all sides to his father but upon reading this paper a side of his father he had never seen before shone brightly. Tears began to well in his eyes, he had not truly cried since his father died, instead choosing to put on a brave face to keep everything down, but in this moment he was unsure whether to laugh or cry, perhaps both were adequate responses. The young prince felt a warm hand on his shoulder and he turned and looked at Lady Alena giving him a warm smile.

  "It is alright my dear, there is no reason to hold it in anymore."

  With just those few words, Antares let out what he held in his heart and he cried. It was not a particularly long or loud cry, but it was one filled with much regret and pain and over whom he had lost. Just as quickly as he had started he stopped, wiping the tears from his face. Lady Alena had pulled a chair and sat beside him, consoling him the whole time. Once Antares regained his composure he turned to his lady mother.

  "Here I thought I would be the one putting on a brave face for all of us," Antares said jokingly.

  Lady Alena laughed, "The rest of the world may see you all as these great warriors, but you are all still my children."

  "But how are you...really?" Antares asked.

  Lady Alena took some time to ponder the question. Antares studied the woman who had raised him for well over two decades. Their meeting was one under uncomfortable circumstances with the death of Antares' birth mother, the late Queen Myrra. But to the surprise of both Barranagan and Alena, Antares was welcoming of the woman who would be his new mother. Their bond was something none expected and yet it blossomed into a great source of comfort for Antares. Oftentimes when his father became too difficult to speak to, she would offer a kind ear and wisdom that he would heed. To him, lady Alena was just as much his mother as queen Myrra. There was a time he would have felt guilty about such feelings, but to have experienced what they both did; living the life of royalty and all that comes with it, she quickly became part of the few that understood the pitfalls and the tragedy that came with such titles. Antares was glad their bond had not wavered.

  In the time since they last spoke, she had not aged much at all. This was more so attributed to being a Stygian herself, as their people barely showed signs of aging. Adorned in the funeral garb of royalty. The black in her garments sparkled sharply. She wore a veil of mourning that covered her face yet, her eyes shined brightly through it. She carried an air of elegance worthy of a queen, and yet still his father never married her officially, instead choosing to have her be his royal consort. Antares was sure there was more to it than that, but he never asked either of them about it.

  Lady Alena let out a sigh, "I am... hurting. More than I care to admit." She looked off into the distance, "There were things I would have liked to have said to him. Arguments I would have liked to have back... But knowing your father, he would rather have me look forward..."

  Her words began to trail off as she held back tears, even behind the veil Antares could see them falling.

  "There is only one reason why a king can continue to look forward." Antares began.

  "Pardon me?" said Lady Alena.

  "There is only one reason why a king can continue to look forward," continued Antares. "Because, those that love him the most stand behind him no matter what." He finished.

  "I-I" began Lady Alena.

  "He knew how you felt, he always did. And he felt the same in his own way. He might have never said it, but meeting you saved a part of him. He would have been completely lost without you. We all would have been. Regardless of what the records say, you will always be known as Queen Alena of Iliad, mother to Guinevere, Daimion, Anastasia... and Antares Xerxes." Antares said, with a soft smile.

  Lady Alena was at a loss for words. She had always been calm and composed but by hearing those words and seeing Antares say it, it was as though she was speaking with Barranagan himself. The emotions she experienced in that moment were greater than she was prepared to handle and she began to cry, and once she did she could not stop. She had lost the man she loved the most in the entire world, her heart ached for his presence and yet in this small moment, his son was the closest thing to him and for that she was grateful. She was concerned for Antares. She was not immune to the rumors that had spread about him the last five years since his exile, but all concerns were answered. The way he had carried himself since his return was nothing short of admirable. She was truly glad that he was here, for the first time in a long time, it felt as though things were back to the way they were.

  "I did not mean to make you cry," Antares said apologetically.

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  Lady Alena laughed while wiping her eyes, "You did not make me cry child, These are tears of joy."

  They sat there for a moment both reflecting on the day, but it was Antares who would break the silence. It was better now, he believed, to speak his mind.

  "Lady mother," He began. "Despite the occasion that has brought us all together. And despite my exile being lifted... I will be leaving Iliad and perhaps Aurum as well."

  Lady Alena wiped the tears from her eyes, she recomposed herself and once again she had a cold expressionless face. Antares was slightly startled by her demeanor and wondered perhaps it was still too early to speak his mind.

  "Where will you go?" Lady Alena asked.

  "I am not sure. Perhaps I will go east, walk the path Hyperion did. Beyond the Empire of The Three Kings, I have heard tales of a civilization in the great endless desert, The River Empire it is known as. Or maybe I could go west towards the Jade Empire. There is much there that is still unknown," responded Antares.

  "So you are going to run away?" Lady Alena said coldly, "As your brother did before you?"

  The fire that had been cackling suddenly went out. The temperature in the room dropped significantly, and a cold aura began to emanate from Antares.

  "He did not run away. He was forced out," Antares responded coolly.

  "Is that what you tell yourself to justify what he did?"

  Thoughts and memories from a time long past began to surface within Antares. Thoughts and memories he had buried for well over a decade and yet he forced them back down. He would not be baited into bringing up the past, especially him. He had done enough all these years to suppress his feelings, he was not going to stop now.

  "Why do you do this? What good am I to anyone right now?" demanded Antares.

  "You are the rightful heir," answered Lady Alena.

  "What does that matter when no one wants me to sit on the throne?" Antares said, slamming his hand on the table. "You all watched as I was exiled five years ago, and yet none of you said anything, as your 'rightful heir' was cast out of his home."

  "So you are leaving to punish us for not standing against your father?" asked Lady Alena. "I would have thought, I taught you better."

  Upon hearing her words it hurt Antares. In truth, the shame of exile was not what held him back, there was far more to it. But he could not tell her, as much as he wanted. His shortcomings, he thought, were his own to bear alone no matter the reasoning. The thought of sitting on the throne and ruling over millions was a daunting task and something he did not believe himself capable of. In his youth he had studied both great kings and those who had failed. He was quickly able to understand that much went into ruling, and oftentimes the outcome of poor decisions would lead to the deaths of thousands, ten scores more.

  Antares had been raised to become many things, his role ever shifting. He did not know if he was malleable by nature or if he was made to be that way. It did not matter, he was educated in all aspects of ruling and war. There were very few royals across Aurum who could even begin to understand the life Antares had lived. And for all he studied, he was forged on the battlefield of war. He had commanded armies and led men into battle, and off the strength of his own abilities had been able to win time and time again. His victories had been sung throughout the halls all through Aurum. Many considered him a formidable warrior and an unparalleled tactician. One of the twelve youngest Lords of War. His titles and claims were endless as they were many. But even so, he understood ruling and war were two different things, and required two different approaches to execute. For as great as his father was at war, he sorely lacked when it came to ruling and governing. His confidence in himself wavered and yet the look from Lady Alena was one of defiance, she would not yield to his protests.

  "And what of Daimion and his faction?" asked Antares, keen to see how she would react.

  "The elders will not choose Daimion over you," responded Lady Alena flatly.

  "You would choose me over your own son?" remarked Antares.

  "I am not choosing either of you," began Lady Alena. "I am choosing Iliad, and you are the leader that she needs."

  Antares knew Daimion was not fit to rule. Not through any fault of his own. His upbringing was one of lavishness. He was unaware of the harsh realities of those who lived in the lower cities and those even further in the wilderness. Even though Antares had not been gone long, the effects of Daimion's rule as Lord Regent could be felt throughout the realm. The abandonment of Iliad's allies and the outer edges of the realm had closed her off from the rest of Aurum. Effectively returning Iliad to a time long since past. And it is no surprise this has caused shortages in not only food but gold as well. Iliad was a beautiful realm but it was not as prosperous as the other realms, and relied on open trade. But with Daimion's lack of urgency in dealing with this issue, Iliad had suffered and in turn, so had her people. And yet Antares could not bring himself to fault his brother; instead, those around him who guided and offered counsel. They were to blame.

  "You are a weapon," Lady Alena interrupted. "I am neither asking nor telling you, to rule. As a weapon, your duty is to protect the one that wields you. So do that, let the millions of souls of Iliad wield you Antares, be their king, be their weapon."

  There was a moment of silence.

  " Not everyone will accept me," he stated.

  "Not everyone has to," responded Lady Alena. "Continue to look forward, and those of us that accept you will stand behind you."

  Before Antares could respond, there was a knock on the door and a woman adorned in light garments opened the door. Upon entering she lowered herself to her knees and bowed greatly, unable to raise her head out of fear and awe at the beings that were before her.

  "My great prince, my lady, a thousand apologies," begged the young girl.

  "It is alright, raise your head and stand," Antares said.

  "I-I cannot my lord, to gaze into your eyes is to look upon the very skies itself. I am not w-worthy of such a gift," pleaded the girl.

  "Your prince has commanded you and you refuse?" Lady Alena said sharply.

  The young girl flinched and began to tremble, her words of apologies turning to whimpers. She was unsure of what to do. She had been randomly chosen to deliver a message and yet she trembled greatly unable to even raise her head and now lady Alena scolded her. It seemed death might be before her, she was scared.

  Antares got up from where he was sitting and crossed the great room towards the young girl. As he approached she began to tremble even more. Antares feared she might tremble herself to death. He knelt down next to her and put a hand on her shoulder.

  "It is alright young one, there is nothing to fear. Raise your head," spoke Antares.

  It had been a long time since he had used Kings Speak. Admittedly, he was concerned the young girl's body may not be able to handle such magical pressure, but his fears were put to rest as she stopped shaking and raised her head slowly. Her blonde hair was wildly pulled back and her blue eyes sparkled. The young girl was awestruck, gazing into the eyes of someone she had only ever heard about in stories told by her mother, and yet here she was looking at prince Antares Xerxes. Despite all she was feeling, the only thing she could process was how warm to the touch he was, it was as though he was radiating warmth through her just from touching her shoulder.

  "What is your name?" asked Antares.

  "M-Maria, my lord," she responded softly.

  Antares smiled.

  "I have a cousin named Maria, perhaps one day I could introduce you both. Would you like that?" Antares teased her.

  "Y-yes, my lord. If it would please you," answered Maria.

  "It would, now tell me, what news do you bring?" asked Antares.

  "The elders," began Maria. "They summon you to the great throne room with the others."

  "Thank you little one, you may go," Antares smiled.

  Maria got up shakenly, bowed once deeply towards Antares, then towards lady Alena and sheepishly left. Today would be a day she would never forget and would talk about with her children and their own children for as long as she lived.

  Antares turned to lady Alena who had already risen. She made her way towards the door and as she left she turned to Antares.

  "Do not delay, the elders may be older than this castle. But their patience is something that refuses to soften with age," remarked Lady Alena.

  Antares nodded and watched Lady Alena leave. He knew what awaited him was not easy. Nevertheless, he found himself undecided in what he wanted to do. Despite everything lady Alena said, there was still a very large part of him that wished to simply be done with his birthright and all that came with it. He had lost so much already he did not know if he had the strength to defend millions. Let alone himself anymore. Even so, as he stood behind him, the presence warm and soft, there was a voice spurring him forward. He had tried to ignore it, but its presence grew the more Antares was opposed to it. For in the end he knew that if his big brother was here, the choice would have already been decided.

  Antares looked out the window through the veil. The city was obscured but the outline of it was still visible. Five years had been a long time, enough time for regret and pain to numb itself in drink and women. He leaned against the table alone in the expanse of the king's chambers. Antares may have returned but it was time for the prince to return as well. Call it duty, call it being honor bound, Antares would call it a curse. Regardless, King Barranagan Xerxes had left the protection and care of Iliad, her people, and her allies to his second son. To his dearest son. He would not fail her. In that room there, surrounded by the memories of his father, Antares would not know it but he would make a Binding Accord with himself. He swore that he would give his life to protect the realm. As he left the room, none could predict just what would follow in the coming years. The victories, the defeats, the deaths and the losses. As he swore it in that room it came to pass. Antares would do just that.