XLII
Crothus declared the eighth war on Tenebris, a once opulent and lavish capital now in ruins, but still standing. But when Crothus came, the capital was no longer in ruins, nor was it a war.
It was a revolution.
On the first day, he walked into the capital alone with the Chronomancer, concealed as two young boys, deceiving all that had lay eyes on them in thinking that they were citizens of Mainland Grozorg. As they passed through the marketplace, where I had happened to be in search of new leather and fabrics, they transformed into two gentlemen of honour and class, instantly impressing those around them.
Within two days, they were well-spoken of in town; the two Chronethian gentlemen that helped everyone they passed, from widows to orphans, from the motherless to the childless. They introduced themselves as aristocrats from the domain of time, and were present to guide the nation to freedom through eloquent words and rational methods. They were fully accepted by the citizens of Tenebris as well as the refugees of Ferrius’ domain that had now permanently resided in Tenebris, and they had won the favour of both our guilds as well.
By the third day, they were admired, revered, if not worshipped. A throng of civilians followed the two wherever they went as they prophesied a hopeful future to come. If not their ground-breaking declarations, their stunning, handsome physique also captured more hearts around the vast land. They claimed that they could see into the future, and coming from the domain of time, it wasn’t a half-lie. There was only one problem with the duo, one thing that kept me dubious and observant. They were preaching twisted truths, facts exaggerated and points part fictional. It was easy to believe their words, and for those who didn’t know the legends well fell for their traps. It kept our guilds divided, Tarsus and his members avid supporters of the concealed overlord and Chronomancer, while I questioned the two more and more.
The fourth day was a laborious, yet joyous day. The people rebuilt the walls in unison, wondering if the famed figures’ reputable words of the upcoming war delayed were true. Brick on mortar, mortar on brick, the walls were quickly erected, then the palatial structures. Fulcan had openly welcomed the two to his island, but now he had begun to question their presence as well. He had seen their strange empowerment upon his nation for they had become figures of significant power. He knew he couldn’t keep them here, but if he kicked them out, a major backlash would fracture the nation worse than any war. No one knew their esoteric identity, yet no one questioned their exoteric prophecies.
A divide was surfacing between the nation on the fifth day. Tarsus stood with the majority of civilians in supporting the influential figures while I fixed my loyalty steadfast to the king. Though every soldier declared allegiance to Fulcan, it was evident that many had been swayed by the lucid words of the duo. The Blood Guild had returned to its independent state of the Night Guild, all the bonds built from the wars fought together broken by a difference of belief. Fulcan voiced his rising concern to me, observing the number of men loyal to him decreasing at every moment. But there was nothing we could do.
In six days, the king held his title, but not his power. Two figures of nothing surfaced to become the most influential figures in all of Grozorg’s history, and many were ready to crown them, but through Fulcan’s tight control over his army, none dared to speak a disloyal word. Little did they know; if they had voiced out their intentions of crowning the overlord and his Chronomancer, the army wouldn’t have stopped them anyways. The emblazoned insignia on each warrior’s chest had no value now; the Army of Light and Purity was already in new hands.
There was no rest on the seventh day. In seven days, the war was over, and on the seventh day, Grozorg fell.
Grozorg crumbled.
“Hear ye! Hear ye! We bring forth an unsettling proclamation!”
The entire plain outside of Tenebris was seated every citizen of Grozorg. The two famed figures stood on a pedestal set up in the middle of the throng by the people, and the nation gathered around to obey the awe-inspiring characters’ every word. Even most of Fulcan’s warriors had come to listen, despite Fulcan’s repeated words of warning.
“Thank you all for coming out and sacrificing the very essence of your time from your very busy lives to hear us. Who are we to speak, but lowly figures and mere mortals like you all?” The figure continued. “Our goblets overflowed with joy and gratitude at your warmest welcomes a week ago, and we hold all very dearly in our hearts.”
“Thank you for coming to help us!” A man shouted amongst the crowd.
“We love you!” Another woman responded. An uproar of enthusiastic agreements rose from the throng, quickly silenced by a careful gesture from the Chronomancer.
“We came a week ago, strangers from nothing. No one knew who we were and no one glanced in our direction. But we were truly blessed to find our fellow brothers and sisters with their welcomed arms opened and heartfelt smiles greeting us as we proclaimed our small messages.”
Another wave of joyous cheers rang among the nation.
“Today, however,” Crothus continued, “we bear...heartbreaking news.”
He gave a pause, a very effective pause that ensured every soul was listening. Something of a tear rolled down his cheek, and it was impossible to determine the authenticity behind it.
“We have looked into the past to find the source of error, the source that caused all this grief and misery for our family and friends. It could’ve been prevented, my sisters and brothers. Innocent lives that were so suddenly lost could’ve been prevented. Mothers could’ve lived. Fathers would still be here. Sons would be alive and feasting in your homes.”
There were some quiet sobs as the nation recalled personal, dark memories.
“Peter! Your son would still be there by your side, working the lands with you! Priscilla! Your daughter would have been your greatest joy, the greatest seamstress in all of the lands!”
Cries broke through the crowd as the overlord personally addressed many of them.
“No matter which direction we looked, which of the many possible outcomes that could’ve occurred, every single source pointed back to one person. He was the one who started the war, he was the one to taint Grozorg!”
A murmur rose through the crowd, voices of grief, anger, confusion, pain.
“I’m gonna rip whoever started all of this apart,” a townsfolk whispered beside me to another.
“He was the one who caused all of your pain!” The overlord suddenly proclaimed, raising his voice. “Who could’ve saved your sons from his snare, Mary? Who could’ve saved your daughters from his clutch, Josef? He was the one who started all of this! He put you in turmoil, in desperation, in pain, all for his own self-satisfaction! Even the strongest warriors crumbled before his very grasp; his dark, corrupted, immoral grasp! And yet...you still chose to follow him?”
“What?” The audience gasped. Every ear was turned towards the proclamation.
“Your glorious, selfish king has betrayed you all!”
“What?” The crowd repeated in a chaotic roar.
“You thought the high lord, Tyrannust, was the source of evil on Grozorg? Tyrannust came to save you! You were blinded by your king’s self-obsessed actions; he used you as pawns to serve him, to fight against the very salvation Tyrannust tried to graciously provide for everyone ever since he was placed in power!”
The crowd went wild, an air of fury rising from the tens of thousands.
“Has your king ever done anything good for you, Lydia, or for you, Arnald? Has your king mourned with you in times of grief, and celebrated with you in times of success, Samuel, or with you, Eleanor? Has your king ever fought for you, Tenebris, and not for his own sake or reputation?”
Point by point, he refuted the once reputable king’s deeds. And point by point, the people hated their king all the more.
But point by point, the overlord increased in validity.
“Who was the first to commit treason, the first to betray their nation? Who stole from the nation’s forge a piece of priceless metal to corrupt and kill our royal and purest high lord, his majesty Zxyx the Fourth, only to enlist in the royal army afterwards to win the very favour of the high lord’s son, rising in ranks to betray the nation furthermore? Who took the righteous throne of Lord Tyrannust VI, causing grief and darkness in our former land of glory and prosperity? Who killed your husbands, your wives, your daughters and sons all in a careless act of seizing the throne?”
Crothus’ voice thundered across the plains as he roared his last statement.
“The root of all darkness, the source of all deaths, the lives of all those innocently slain are all upon Fulcan’s bloodied hands!”
The Chronomancer extended his arms up and a strangely massive portal instantly appeared above his head. It appeared different from any portal I had ever seen, but then again, I had never met anybody who could look back in time.
The portal played an image, and on the hovering screen appeared the infamous ruler Zxyx. Everyone around the Chronomancer fell silent, the entire nation standing before the two figures to witness the raw truth of Grozorg for the first time.
An untainted, human Zxyx was standing on the balcony of his palace, delivering a powerful message to a captivated audience on the high lord’s island. Throughout his inaudible speech, the portal panned outwards to reveal the brilliant palace, including Prince Tyrannust V standing next to his father. Panning out further, a small array of buildings were located in front of the palace, and on the roof of a stone hut lay a masked figure with a bow in his hands.
The masked figure nocked an arrow on his bow and pulled back, when a sudden gust of wind blew the coverings off his face, revealing the young man within. The young Fulcan let go of the bowstring and the flaming black arrow sank into the high lord’s chest, vanishing immediately as Zxyx fell to his knees, corrupted.
Fulcan gave a wicked smile, fixing his cowl as his eyes bore into ours; his bright, blue eyes.
The image faded and the portal was taken down. It was brief, but it was enough to start a riot. No one disbelieved what they saw; no one questioned the validity of the images. No one could. Every piece of evidence recorded in history lined up, and it all proved Fulcan guilty.
The truth was finally revealed. Darkness and chaos wasn’t introduced to the island by an innocent Zxyx.
It was introduced by the very king of Light and Purity.
I ran back to the palace before the crowd stirred into a mob. Though I was in a lost state of shock and confusion, I scrambled my mind together and picked up my feet, knowing that the king was in grave danger. Ceiros’ war may have been the deadliest war, but Crothus’ war was by far the most effective. If Tyrannust couldn’t break Grozorg from the outside, he tore it apart from its very heart.
“Fulcan!” I shouted, desperate, infuriated. “Fulcan!”
The king stepped out, fully equipped in heavy armour.
“There’s nowhere safe,” the king replied. “I can’t go anywhere.”
“Not even my hideout. Someone will rat you out there. I know them like I know myself.”
“Is this the end?”
I didn’t know why I was helping the treacherous king, but I couldn’t see another way of restoring Grozorg’s former peace if the king fell into the hands of his people.
My heart tried to stop me from aiding the king. The hilts of the two piercing blades wobbled at my side. I could’ve done it, right there and then. I could’ve pulled out my streaking blades and ended it. What was even good for the nation now?
What was even good?
“Crystallia,” I muttered, restraining my hands from the linen-wrapped hilts. “We need to hurry.”
Fulcan immediately led me to the royal stables where we leapt onto the king’s stallions and galloped to the abandoned shack. A distant uproar sounded behind us, but there was no time to look back. If anyone caught sight of us, the end would most certainly come.
Flinging the wooden door of the abandoned shack open, I led the king to the entrance of the mysterious portal of the isolated island and sent him off.
“I can’t come with you. If my guild realizes, they’ll trace my tracks and reach you in no time. Once you’re there, find Oracle Uzefer.”
Fulcan grabbed my arm before I could turn to leave. I shook it off instantly, distancing myself from the king’s impure hands - hands that shed the blood of an innocent nation.
“Why did you come back for me, Prokun?”
I didn’t know how to respond. I didn’t. To discover a close friend betraying everyone he had ever loved was more than I could bear. I remembered my vow. The day of Ferrius’ and Askar’s fall, I swore the vow before Kadava. How fake was my king?
How fake was the king?
“Look, I...I confess my sins in the past, Ulterium, and I know a sorry won’t cover the mess I’ve created. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, and if I had time, I would explain it all to you. But thank...thank you for coming back for me.”
Could I believe anything he said now?
“Go,” I quickly demanded. “Now!”
The man ran through the portal as I ordered, and I quickly stepped out to free the horses to the wild. Before long, my guild found me.
“Have you seen the king?” Kadava asked.
“They’re burning the castle!” Foku added. “If Fulcan is in there, all hope is lost!”
“I haven’t seen him. He must’ve gone somewhere safe, somewhere nobody knows of.”
“Where were you, Ulterium?” Glo questioned. “When the mob marched to burn the palace down, you weren’t there.”
“Grozorg will live to see another day,” I diverted.
The Blood Guild looked at me indecipherably, but it was better to hide the truth from them. Some things were better off unknown.
And if I had time, I would have explained it all to them.
There was nothing left to improvise. The smoke clouded the darkening sky as the flames licked the clouds, the palatial structures crumbling in fury, in infidelity. The hard effort placed in rebuilding Tenebris vanished in a blaze of ash and smoke, as did the nation’s hope, faith, and love for the days gone by. Tenebris had become a stronghold of darkness, and the elemental wars purging it were far from over.
In fact, the real war had just begun.