Locked Legacies

Chapter XXXVII: Empty pages

 A shell; that's what Augustus was. An empty body that stared into the distance during the whole mass, not uttering a word and not shedding a tear as everyone kneeled down to pray for Aldrich. "Long live the king!" Everyone's voice echoed loudly in the church. Gabriel's head fell as he cried at the ground, never daring to look up as he heard the crowd mourn his father. But the eldest didn't feel anything; just pure numbness.

The same void remained as he sat by the former monarch's desk, endlessly going through handwritten documents and signing whatever people brought into the meeting room. His mother would visit him every once in a while, with ghastly features painted dark by grief, carrying with her a handkerchief. "Good morning, Auggie," she'd say, her voice wavering after silently mourning her husband in her room. Augustus noticed every time her tear-stained cheeks were full of sadness, and so he would stretch his hand towards her. "How are you, Ma?" The question would always follow, making the man receive a short reply: "Sad."

Faylinn would check on him at least twice a day, trying to sit down with him whenever she found a moment. Sometimes she would update him ("The dragons came back for their treats; I gave it to them," she had said once, receiving no enthusiasm in return), or she would stand behind him, massaging his already stiff back, or brushing his curls with her hands, which would always make him close his eyes in relaxation. Yet the stress she perceived in him when he sat by the desk was not what worried her, it was the way his eye-bags darkened more each day as he spend hours inside his room, in the darkness that the closed window provided. That was her main concern, how he would be locked inside until the afternoon, not getting an hour of sleep, but lying on his bed with no motivation. "Why don't we go take a walk, Gus?" She suggested more than once, always receiving the same answer: "I'm tired."

"Do you want to talk about it?" She asked that day, taking a seat on the mattress, right in front of him.

But the man shook his head in denial, lying on his side while he held his blanket close to his face, in an attempt to find comfort. His gaze was empty, lost in the gloom of the corner, when he grabbed her hand, which had previously been placed on his shoulder. Her heart sank at the words that followed; "But, please, don't leave," he whispered, "Just lie here with me." So she did, wrapping her arms around him; as she pulled him into an embrace, she felt the pounds and strength he had lost in the previous two weeks.

The days passed like hundreds of empty pages, with the same meaninglessness in every single hour. It was all a haze, numbness mixing together for what was around three weeks. Yet, above all, what he felt—or what he was pushing down, for that matter— was guilt. He remembered that day, in Mystichut, when he made the suggestion to gather the dragons there. Perhaps, if he hadn't opened his mouth at that moment, his brother's house wouldn't have been a target, and now it wouldn't be laying in ruins. Perhaps, if he hadn't said anything, the king would be alive. If he had just thought twice, like so many times it had been warned to him before, he would have avoided a massacre.

And the thought was eating him inside out.

By the end of spring, the Phobrakha Kingdom waved the white flag, triggering a loud exclamation from the Exspidraco soldiers. Lucas had just landed on the ground when it happened, and the piece of cloth that matched the clouds as it streamed gloriously in the air sent a goosebump down his spine. The thrill of the triumph couldn't be compared with anything they had ever felt, as they tackled each other into tight hugs, not minding the pain, which was wiped away by the bliss of the moment. "Long live King Aldrich I!" Someone exclaimed from the distance, flooding every exhausted soldier with a sense of pride. "Long live the king!" Their voices merged together into a melodious choir; from wherever he was, the former monarch could surely hear it echoing.

Justice was also made at the castle. The leak in the army was proved to be Garret and Lawrence, whose resentment and will for revenge had led to the death of the king. "Accounted with unjustified violence, treason, and accomplice to the death of the former monarch King Aldrich I—" Augustus sat on one end of the room right by the Queen's side, seeing the knights kneeling down before him. Both their heads were down, showing the embarrassment they currently felt as their hands were restrained by the shackles, and his former teammates stood by their side, controlling their every move. "—Knight Lawrence Elliot and Knight Garret Thomson shall face a life sentence in the Royal Dungeons." Immediately, the noble jurors started the applause, following the two felons with their eyes, enjoying the view as they were dragged away by Justice. Aldrich had been one of the greatest and fairest leaders in the whole of Exspidraco's history; his dedication had always been immeasurable. The least they could have done was to protect his honor, and the people in the room were proud to be a part of that; somehow, they had the opportunity to give back to the man that had given so much.