Blood And Light

The news of King Argos Mailefihi's death spread through Xezar like wildfire, its flames consuming every corner of the kingdom. Whispers became cries, cries became shouts, and soon, the entire capital was drowning in chaos. For a thousand years, the three kingdoms had enjoyed peace under the rule of the champions. The death of a king—especially one of Argos' legendary stature—was not just a loss; it was a tremor that threatened to shake the foundations of Pruris itself.

Arthur's heart pounded as he left Alexander by the fountain and pushed through the gathering crowds. He had to get to the palace. The sword—his masterpiece, forged with care and reverence for the King—still rested on his back. But now, its purpose seemed hollow. What use was a blade for a ruler who no longer lived?

The streets were packed with people, their faces painted with fear and confusion. Some clung to loved ones, while others screamed accusations into the void.

"The Lumens are returning! The gods will punish us for what we did!" cried an old woman, clutching a tattered scarf to her chest.

"It's the other kingdoms," a merchant argued, his fists clenched. "Yakaria or Benad. They've always envied Xezar's prosperity. This is an act of war!"

Arthur ignored the voices, focusing on the path ahead. The Royal Palace loomed in the distance, its white spires piercing the gray sky. Usually, the sight filled him with pride, a reminder of the kingdom's strength and unity. Today, it felt like a monument to uncertainty.

As he neared the palace gates, the crowd thickened. Guards in polished armor stood at the entrance, their faces set in grim determination. They held the line against the throng of citizens demanding answers.

"Step back!" one of the guards barked. "The palace is under lockdown. No one enters without clearance."

Arthur fumbled for the Royal Commission Seal tucked into his tunic. Holding it aloft, he called out, "I'm Arthur, the blacksmith. I have an urgent delivery for the King. Please, let me through."

The guard nearest to him glanced at the seal and then back at Arthur. After a tense moment, he nodded. "Let him pass," he said. The other guards parted reluctantly, and Arthur slipped through the gates.

Inside the palace, the air was heavy with tension. Servants scurried down corridors, their eyes cast downward, while soldiers stood at attention, their hands resting on their weapons. Arthur's boots echoed against the marble floors as he made his way deeper into the palace. He wasn't directed to the throne room but rather to the King's private chambers, where the turmoil seemed to have reached its peak.

The chamber doors were wide open, and Arthur hesitated at the threshold. Inside, Prince Darius Mailefihi stood surrounded by his advisors and a handful of high-ranking soldiers. The young prince's face was pale, his eyes shadowed by grief. Despite his youth, he carried himself with a regal bearing, though the weight of the moment was evident in the way his shoulders sagged.

"What did you see?" Darius asked, addressing a soldier kneeling before him. The man's armor was scorched, and blood trickled from a wound on his temple.

The soldier's voice was steady despite his injuries. "Your Highness, when the King passed, there was a surge of energy. A wave of light and force erupted from his body, knocking us all back. I was stationed just outside his chamber and barely managed to stay conscious. When I entered to assess the situation, the air inside was... charged. It's as if the room itself is alive, pulsating with power. I've never felt anything like it."

Darius' jaw tightened. "And the Lumen's presence?"

The soldier hesitated, glancing at the advisors before answering. "It's faint but growing stronger. The seal... it's broken, Your Highness. The Lumen's essence is no longer contained."

Arthur felt the blood drain from his face. King Argos wasn't just a ruler; he was the seal—the living prison that bound the Lumen, Argoth, within him. His death meant the seal had already shattered, and Argoth's power was no longer contained. The implications were terrifying.

"We should have acted sooner," one of the advisors said, his voice sharp with urgency. "The people's fear is not unfounded. If Argoth's power is returning, we must prepare for the worst."

Another advisor countered, "Prepare for what? War? Chaos? If the Lumen awakens fully, there will be no preparing. The only course of action is containment—immediate containment."

Darius raised a hand, silencing them. "Enough. We cannot afford to act out of panic. My father gave his life to ensure the peace we've enjoyed for centuries. We will not undo his sacrifice with rash decisions. For now, we focus on stabilizing the kingdom and determining the full extent of the Lumen's awakening."

Arthur hesitated, then stepped forward, his heart hammering. "Your Highness, if I may," he said, bowing slightly. All eyes turned to him, and Arthur suddenly felt the weight of their scrutiny. "I'm Arthur, the blacksmith. I was commissioned to craft a sword for your father. It's—"

"The sword," Darius interrupted, his gaze sharpening. "You're the one my father spoke of. He said your craftsmanship was unparalleled."

Arthur nodded, unfastening the bundle from his back and holding it out. "I poured everything I had into this blade. It was designed to withstand immense power. Perhaps it can be of use."

Darius stepped forward, taking the wrapped sword with careful hands. He unwrapped it slowly, the polished steel catching the light of the chamber's flickering lamps. The blade seemed to hum faintly, as if resonating with the charged atmosphere around them. Darius studied it for a moment before nodding. "Then it seems my father chose well. Arthur, your work may prove vital in the days to come. Stay within the palace; we may have further need of your skill."

Arthur bowed again, the weight of the situation settling heavily on his shoulders. The peace that Pruris had known for so long was unraveling, and he could feel the threads slipping through his fingers. The days ahead would test them all, and Arthur could not shake the feeling that the story of the Lumens was far from over.