A steep silence haunted the Sanctum. Recounting that dark blot of history brought a scorn to every face in the room.
"Isn't it why my family is shunned and shamed wherever we go?" Fenrik sneered.
Veloria's eyes narrowed. "Your family brought that upon itself. Nothing is more humiliating for a demon of noble blood than falling for a wretched human."
Vivia's face flashed through Zerath's mind once, making him clench his fists in the eerie quiet.
Fenrik blinked. "So is it acceptable for a poor demon to run away with a human? Is this law applicable only to nobles?"
Her expression twisted.
"Fenrik!" Slavien's father bellowed. "Mind your manners, young man. This is no way to talk to Her Majesty!"
He snorted. "I'll speak however I like. I prefer for people to say to my face that they don't want to see my face rather than making some sorry excuse from centuries ago."
Under any other circumstance, Nefarion would have ordered an immediate arrest for such blatant disrespect. But Fenrik belonged to one of the Great Three Families that birthed the Blessed. And considering his young age, rebellion was a good part of demons growing up. It was prudent for the King to have the bigger heart here. He only shook his head with helplessness.
Fenrik shrugged and booed, crossing his palms behind his head. "I wasn't actually that interested in visiting the palace in any case. Ever since Brother Silas left the army, it has only become more boring and depressing, except for Brother Zerath, of course."
Fury made Veloria tremble. But she was the Queen. She would die rather than succumbing her patience to some disgraceful remarks.
Zerath sighed and pressed the space between his brows.
"But my lord!" He suddenly exclaimed. "I don't care if I can't visit the palace, but you must take me to Brother Silas! I heard he took that ice brat as his disciple! That's not fair! I wanted to become his disciple too, but he rejected me!"
"I didn't do anything about that. Silas decided it by himself."
"You must have contributed to his decision somehow," he scorned. "As the future King of Rudaheim, you cannot show bias like a certain Queen here."
"This brat!" Slavien's parents apologized profusely.
Veloria squinted. "It's fine. I hadn't expected much decency from the young lord of such a family in the first place."
Fenrik ignored her taunt and hopped to Zerath's side. He tugged his ear close and dropped his voice low, a sly smile spreading across his lips.
"You must help me become Brother Silas's disciple, my lord or…I might accidentally let it slip how I caught you and that human princess together on the Sanctum's roof that festival night where you had passionately conveyed your feelings for her~"
It took every ounce of restraint in the world for Zerath to control his handsome features from betraying even the slightest hint of shock. On the contrary, he felt quite proud of how deadpan he appeared. He dropped a sidelong glance on Fenrik's cunning smirk.
"My lord, would you now say that I might be misunderstanding something?"
This brat has become even more mischievous since the last time I saw him.
Zerath exhaled. "As I said, Silas makes his own decisions, and I hardly have any influence over them. I can take you to him, but I cannot promise the results."
"I'm sure things would move in a positive direction if you two just talk it out once. But I'm happy with the free ride for now!" He chirped.
This brat. I need to have a serious conversation with him before he really runs his mouth one day. Where was he that night in the first place?
Ah…The struggle never ends.
The royal entourage proceeded with the purification ritual. Zerath and Slavien knelt before the Sun and Moon's orbs. Considering Zerath's royal status, Slavien's parents insisted for him to proceed first, but Nefarion was the least bothered about the order.
The two dropped their heads in a bow before the obelisks of the Sun and Moon, while Sire Izrus recited a passage.
"Let the sun strip away the deceit that clings,
Let the moon unveil the truth that hides,
Let the twin keepers burn the shadow that is unworthy.
By fire, we scorch.
By shadow, we endure.
Rise, young lord Slavien Vessareth,
May no curse cling to you now."
The twin obelisks shone with brilliance, golden and silver threads spinning outward, enveloping Slavien within their warm undercurrent. The energy infused with his frail body, distinctly at his heart, where a particular luminescence took root.
Zerath had never witnessed Slavien undergo the ritual before, but he guessed the orb of light shone more intensely there because of his ailing heart.
The threads clung to him for a few quiet moments before they dissipated and dimmed as though getting absorbed into his body. Slavien opened eyes slowly and bowed.
"Estar om ven, Sire. The restlessness feels much better now."
"It's what I do, young lord. As long as I can offer even a little relief to you, I'm more than happy."
Izrus then cast a glance at Zerath. "My lord. One step forward, please."
Zerath did so - but with an odd uneasiness creeping into his consciousness.
Izrus recited the same passage for the second time. The obelisks, once again, wove mesmerizing golden and silver threads - only this time, chaos unfolded the moment they touched Zerath.
Instead of enveloping him, the silky threads bound to him more haphazardly and rigidly, as though the energy itself resisted Zerath's presence rather than warding off the curses. Zerath stared at the obelisks, his sweat-filled brows pinching at the center.
Something feels wrong here…Dizziness engulfed him.
Nefarion's eyes stretched wide. "What's happening? Zerath, are you okay?"
Breathlessness gripped his chest as friction coursed through his veins with a sharp jolt of pain. He tried to break free of the mystical threads but failed, and as time passed, they only wound around his body stronger.
"Stop this right now, Sire! What is happening to Zerath!?"
Sire Izrus tried his best to halt the ritual but to no avail. Just as the situation grew dire enough to threaten Zerath's life, Fenrik threw himself between them and unsheathed Zerath's sword. Without a moment's hesitation, he swung it at the threads, slicing them into half and freeing Zerath from their hold.
"Brother Zerath, are you-"
Though the immediate danger to Zerath's life was thwarted, a new one announced itself ominously. The sword in Fenrik's hand rumbled, its silvery tip pointing straight at the two obelisks. The pull was so strong that Fenrik felt his shoulders would be ripped off from his body.
"Hand the sword to me!"
"I can't! I'm trying, but it's not listening to me!"
Slavein's parents stumbled back. "Wh-What in the world is happening…?"
A tremor hit beneath their feet as though the Sanctum itself would collapse upon them. Zerath jumped on his feet and grabbed his sword's hilt, right where Fenrik held it.
"Calm down. Please calm down," he whispered to his blade.
But with a striking contrast to when Zerath had visited with Vivia earlier where it had similarly sprung out of control - this time, the severity ran deadlier and more bloodthirsty.
"The obelisks…the sword will tear through the divine obelisks!" Izrus screamed in horror.
Nefarion rushed behind Zerath and wrapped his arms around his waist, trying to push back. The harder he tried, the hasher the tremors pounded upon the Sanctum. The knights leapt to shield Veloria to safety, but she resisted fiercely.
"Nefarion! Come back!" She cried.
"Escape, Veloria! Now!"
Fenrik clenched his jaw. "Brother…Zerath…I cannot hold on for longer. This force…will truly tear off my arms…"
Crimson sparks enveloped the blade's silver sheen, leaping taller and fiercer. A familiar rage tore through Zerath's fingers, coursing all the way through his arms and shoulders until drawing breath became a battle on its own.
"Fenrik…hold on. Please hold on. I'm letting go of the hilt."
"What? No way! That's suicide! His Majesty and I alone cannot carry this. Also why did your blade suddenly turn so ridiculously heavy!"
"Just stay put…Please."
Saying that, Zerath released his hold over the hilt and stepped back.
"Zerath! What are you doing!" Nefarion roared, barely able to keep his footing in place amidst the deafening quakes of death.
Zerath exhaled one slow, long breath - then knelt. With his palms flat and forehead touching the floor, he kowtowed completely.
"It's my humble request, my blade. Please still your rage. Whatever makes you restless, I promise to vanquish that ire. But please…spare the innocent lives here."