HOLY INFERNO (II)

As the sound of the chiming bell resounded throughout the city, the crowd grew silent as all eyes turned towards the Central Plaza and then higher up, where the seven throne-like seats suddenly flashed, after which seven figures appeared seated atop of it. Amongst them was the Emperor Eylnor, who briefly glanced through the crowd before getting up and stepping forward.

His majestic appearance caused the crowd to gasp, while many eyes alike flashed with a hint of resentment and anger. He appeared to be above the world, loftily looking down on everyone else present, yet no one dared to step up and challenge him.

“Greetings everyone,” he spoke in a mild tone. “I express my deepest joy to see so many souls come here today. Yet, despite that, it is still a sad, depressing day. No man wishes to see another great man fall, even if they stand on two sides of a bridge, battling. It has been true so for generations as it is today. I express no happiness for what is about to occur today, and neither should you. Median Von Hyord is a great man, a great general, and an honorable one above all else.”

“Still, in the times of peril and war, soft heart leads to dire consequences. He has refused my hand, and while his loyalty is heart-stirring, it is also a cause for concern to me. I am deeply saddened, but as an Emperor of an entire nation, it is my first priority to think about my men, my brothers, my people. Whether we survive to see tomorrow or witness the crimson sunfall, it rests within my hands. A burden… a burden that requires me to do things I never wished to do.”

“Today is such a day. Median Von Hyord was an enemy’s general who had been deflecting my armies for years, and for his genius in military command I can’t do anything but bow in respect. However, he is also a threat to my nation, a threat that must go away. As such, I have sentenced him to public death; as cruel as it may be, I’d rather have to kill one man openly to dispel disturbing notions, than hundreds in secret. Bring him out.”

Chains suddenly rattled as the raised platform shook slightly. The stone atop of it split and opened, like a door, and two men landed and began pulling the two wheels clockwise. Stone rumbled deep inside the opening, and a few moments later, another platform appeared, right next to the guillotine.

Atop the platform was a fragile-looking man, merely skin and bones, with long, black hair. His wrists and ankles were chained and shackled, and his body was full of scars, old and new alike. Many people looked away at such a sight, grunting in a low tone.

Lynne’s eyes shimmered slightly as he recognized his father. However, the man before him looked simply like the shadow of the man Lynne knew. His heart tightened, and his nails dug deep into his skin, causing blood to begin to drip. His gaze shifted between the chained man atop the platform and the one standing on the air itself, looking down onto the world. Soon, just endure… endure for now…

Median was suddenly jolted awake by a man next to him, and he raised his head to look at the crowd. His vision was slightly blurred, but he was still able to notice hundreds and thousands of people surrounding him. He chuckled lowly and smiled bitterly as he lowered his head back down. There was neither shame nor pride in his eyes, just agonizing solitude and grief. Although he knew not everyone currently present wanted him dead, this public display showcased what he hated the most in people.

Emperor’s eyes shifted from a person to person as he sought for any strange signs. He knew that the way he dealt with Median wouldn’t sit well with everyone present, but he also believed no one would be idiotic enough to attempt anything. Still, he was a cautious man, and he always felt it was better to be safe than sorry.

Crowds from all corners of the continent sternly watched the raised platform; some felt elation, some sadness, some indifference, and some anger. Still, nearly everyone felt that the Emperor had gone too far; Median was stark naked, clearly starved and tortured and humiliated to the last ends, yet just a moment ago Emperor spoke of his sadness and compassion. Most people couldn’t help but glance upwards at the man standing in the sky and feel slight scorn towards him.

Still, no one dared express it; they all did their best to keep their expressions of indifference and simply look on to what will happen next. Lynne was already on his feet, clutching his fists, waiting for a signal. He didn’t know when, but he knew he’ll be called to act soon, and he knew he needed to be ready. Today wasn’t only the day he was going to save his father, but also remind the world of another existence that didn’t die in the Fires of the Fall: Skyfire Magus.

Elynal was currently sitting atop a small, elevated chair, drinking wine from a golden cup, seeming indifferent. His eyes shifted between his father, six others present up there, and Median. It was upon him to signal others, but he knew it wasn’t the time yet. His father was on full alert – as were the guards – as they were still scouting out the expressions of the crowd, looking for potential troubles.

Thalia and Lady Ella were several dozen miles away, high up in the clouds, looking down at the proceedings. Those in the known felt that the battle was imminent, while those in the dark felt that something was odd. Even the Emperor himself felt things were slightly askew. While he didn’t anticipate a large-scale rebellion, he felt there’d at least be a few people who’d speak up. Things were far too calm, and he felt a traces of threat deep inside his heart.

He wasn’t the only one thinking that; Median wasn’t just some nobody. He was a respected general, a smart and honorable man who had more friends than he could count. For everyone present to simply watch him die felt completely impossible. Even Elynal felt he had overlooked this simple detail, but it was too late to change the plans. He looked over to the tower where Lynne was at and saw a young man, with a fluttering, blue flock of hair, staring sternly at the raised platform.

The air stiffened quickly and it was hard to breathe; chatter died and the entire square fell into silence. Nobody dared to even make a sound, from fears of standing out. Even Median noticed the strange atmosphere as he raised his head one more time. He looked around again and saw a few familiar faces. His heart skipped a beat, but he quickly recovered. Surging a tinge of Mana into his throat, he was the one to break the silence.

“Friends and enemies alike,” his voice was hoarse and cracking, but clear enough for anyone to hear him. “Today, I sit here in chains, but I am content. I’ve lived my life the way I wished, and I’ll die the way I wish. I have no regrets… my son, the only reason I even stayed alive for this long, is dead. For me to still remain is impossible. I’d rather join him on the journey through the Nine Heavens. So, relax. Look forth towards the future, and forget about today. That is all I have to say.” although his speech seemed random, most of the people present realized he was telling others not to do anything stupid.

Even the Emperor himself nodded silently when Median finished his speech. In truth, Emperor Eylnor had nothing against Median, and he truly respected him – both as a man and as a soldier. Were it in his hands, he’d never have killed him, because he knew Median posed no threat to him. Alas, even to an Emperor, some things are out of his hands.

Elynal, also, realized the meaning of Median’s speech, but he didn’t waver. Today, after all, was much bigger than simply saving a man from the execution. He had no time or desire to be emotional about his selflessness, but he didn’t wish for Median to become a martyr either.

His gaze shifted slightly towards the western part of the Plaza, on the opposite side of Lynne, where he spotted his Third Uncle and a group of five hooded men standing next to him. As their gazes met, the meanings were understood; both gently nodded their heads, and a slight gale ensued.

Median’s voice still echoed slightly, rousing hearts of those present. Emperor was still on full alert, but he felt it wasn’t enough, as a threat of danger caused his heart to speed up. Earth quaked for but a blink, and shortly after two screams could be heard; in that brief moment of confusion, Elynal’s Third Uncle and the five hooded men suddenly appeared in the air, next to the seven throne-like chairs.

Lady Poraltol and Sir Reen suddenly fell from the sky, their bodies split in half; although not dead yet, they were heavily injured. The silence lasted for less than a second before a nerve passed through everyone’s mind and, as if struck by a thunderbolt, they all realized that something grave is just about to happen.

“GO!!!!!” a voice echoed out from the crowd, startling everyone; just as the voice faded, hundreds and thousands of people suddenly ascended towards the sky.

“DEFEND!!!” Emperor Eylnor screamed out as it finally dawned on him. “KILL EVERYONE WHO DARES ATTACK!!!”

Crowd suddenly erupted in defeaning screams as one person after another began trampling over those before them as they tried to escape the city. Skies were quickly overturned as thousands of people began battling, with thousands of spells causing explosions to make space itself ripple.

Towers and homes were assailed by shockwaves and spell remnants, and the entire Holy Paradise began crumbling. Elynal’s Third Uncle suddenly appeared before the Emperor, while Guardian Si blocked off the short, plump man who never left Emperor’s side.

Elynal darted towards his brother, Second Prince Irey, while Lady Fen’er was intercepted by another, beautiful woman.

“TRAITORS!!!” the Emperor bellowed as he realized who was behind the attack; his eyes grew bloodshot red as he looked around him and began seeing raining bodies fall from the sky. “ELYNAL! BROTHER! I WILL SKIN YOU ALIVE!!”

Suddenly, a massive warhammer appeared in the Emperor’s hands as he struck towards his brother; the Emperor’s Guardian summoned a hail of daggers and sent them flying towards Guardian Si. The battlefield in the sky erupted, as did the one on earth. The entire city was uprooted into a massive-scale war within a single blink of an eye, and Lynne finally moved.

His feet were coated in golden flame as he flew through the sky in a beautiful arc, moving towards the raised platform. The platform was already surrounded by several dozen men, and one of them was raising his sword above Median’s head. When Lynne saw this, his eyes grew bloodshot red as he summoned two hundred Elemental Blades, all coated in green flames, and sent them flying towards the several dozen men around the platform.

The burning blades rained and screams echoed as blood dyed the stone beneath red. Corpse after corpse fell, some burned to ashes, some decapitated, some pierced; the view behind the several dozen men slowly cleared up, reveling behind a solitary figure on his knees. Median finally raised his head and his eyes focused on the figure in front of him.

The youth wore startlingly white robes, his hair brown, shoulder-length, with blue flock fluttering gently. Around the youth were a pile of corpses, and his eyes were sternly focused on the incoming hundreds of people in the sky, all flying towards them. Yet, despite that, the youth appeared immovable, like a wall that withstood eons and saw storms which caused the world to end… yet the wall prevailed.

Median remembered an easily frightened child, one who’d rather drink all day long than stab an animal. He remembered a youth who’d always run away when he was scared, who refused to study Magic no matter what… a youth who feared himself more so than any other person in the world. He remembered youth that gave him countless headaches, yet youth he’d die for without a moment of hesitation. He remembered youth who always fought him – regardless of what it was – and he remembered a small child, crouching in knee-deep snow, staring at his mother’s grave. He remembered the ache in the heart he felt when he saw that scene, and he remembered the promise he made on that very day.

But, the youth before him had broad shoulders, ones wide enough to bloat out the darkness before him. The youth had fiery eyes of determination and fearlessness. The youth had traces of courage in-between his brows, and arms long enough to deflect anything that might bring harm to those behind him. The youth before him was neither afraid nor indifferent; as the robes fluttered due to the rising gale, Median saw straightened back of the youth, one he could barely recognize. His eyes swelled with tears and his lips trembled. His heart was swollen with a mass of emotions as he recognized the face that glanced back at him.

Blue eyes looked at him and they were full of sadness, agony, guilt and grief. The youth’s lips trembled as if he wished to say something, but they got stuck in his throat. The blue eyes looked at every inch of Median’s body, and the more they looked, the more watery they got. Soon, two streaks fell down the youth’s rosy cheeks, and the eyes closed as the youth clenched his fists. The army of men was a hundred meters away, their hands flashing with array of spells. The stone platform beneath trembled, web-like cracks spreading around everywhere. Remnants of battle above rained, but the youth deflected them all.

Median could scarcely believe, yet it was in front of his eyes; the youth he believed to have died stood before him. The youth he believed to have always been weak was withstanding, holding on stoically, protecting him from harm. The youth before him was no longer youth… but a man who had already grown up, all on his own.

“Hello dad,” Lynne said softly, battling back the tears. “I’m sorry I’m late. I hope you can forgive me.”

The army was at fifty meters distance, but Lynne’s eyes were still fixed at the kneeling body full of scars. He remembered his father from his youth; a brave, large man who always protected him from harm, no matter what. He remembered the eyes that looked at him with kindness and were full of love. And, above all, he remembered them being full of pride… even though Lynne always knew there was nothing for them to be proud about.

“My son…” Median said, tears flowing freely like a river. “Welcome home.”