Aelir carried himself up high, making short steps slowly passing by those who would help him build a new world. They were the ones who once trembled in the shadow of his father’s strength, but now their eyes were bright, looking to the future.
As he walked further forward, no light burden on his back, only a white cloak with a sigil of a mighty golden phoenix, the same that decorated the banners all across the hall. He thought of his brother, the other traitor of his own blood, yet he still remembered him with kindness in his heart. One day he wished to find hatred for him, one that burns so strong it could drive him but just as much he wished for it not to ever happen.
On his waist was a sword, Light of Dawn it was called, forged in the golden fire of the last phoenix, the metal from a fallen star; it brought death to many and peace to few. Its blade would shine for as long as the Vi Dera bloodline endured for it was, just like the name, eternal.
Passing generals, admirals, and other prominent leaders, he thought of the first death he caused, the young boy Dari, a commoner and a victim of circumstances. The great heroes of the armies looked at him with respect and humility.
Then followed the royalty. He nodded and smiled at them. Not a single person from that crowd was unknown to him. Far in the distance was lady Ullina, a kind woman of no significance, yet he remembered her none the less. Happiness decorated their faces; he was to them a savior.
Finally, his walk came to an end, and he stood before the ten white steps; on their top was the imperial throne. Slowly he began walking up.
Every two steps had a phrase engraved into the white rock they were made from. “Be kind, be just,” said the first two. A smile came to him once again as he read those words. He promised to uphold them.
“Mercy is a tool of the wise,” read the third and fourth. Those words brought doubt into his mind. Two days ago, he murdered his father, yet was it not a kindness to end his madness? For many days that question would be a burden on his shoulders.
The next read, “Family is above all, the emperor’s family are his people.” Family. He smiled and remembered the happiness of his childhood, playing with Morael and his father. Even thought of his mother, who passed while he was still young, came to him.
“In peace, find wisdom, in war, find peace.” Reading the words, he began to yearn for a night in the library.
The last steps, the final words he has read once before in the very chamber, “No one rules forever.” More than ever, those words were important.
Standing at the top, he touched the golden throne, the backrest like the wings of a phoenix. He turned to face the crowd and found Arianna, her hands and feet still covered in bandages, her face bruised; not once chance, he had to speak with her since he returned. Next to her was Nariel, giving him a little wave, smiling.
He did not speak and sat on the throne. Above his head, swimming on the air, from a bursting golden fire formed a crown of pure light. Caressing the wind, it descended down upon his ashen head. The metal was warm and so very light.
Everyone cheered, and Aelir looked right through them. He wished for it all not to happen, for Morael and Alric to be just like before. Yet it would never be so. With a smile, he tried to hide his sorrow, but down his cheek ran a single tear, shining in golden light.
Tear of Light Page 36
