Rise Of Pandora

PART TWO. Rise Of Pandora: LXXI. The King

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V. Embrace, Over One Month Later in Arcadia, the capital of Ereignfall, March 13th

"They say he slew over one thousand Deathknights," one child with a face sprinkled with dust yelled excitedly!

A crowd of denizens, no more than two hundred or so, each one dirtied by the sullied air, the kind of air that had the scent of a freshly fought battle left to linger about freely. Yet, the people's spirits were not broken. It was dawn, and after being escorted out from the numerous news of their victory against the Deathknights after being kept in evacuation for more than one month was all they were talking about. They were anticipating the return of their king today, they were told so by the soldiers stationed in the town that he planned on returning today. So they were gathered in a large group outside of the king's home, which was not a castle like most of the kings in the empire, but it was something that was somewhat modest in size as a manor. He was a very modest man, Brais.

"The soldiers are calling him the Sworn Sword of Ereignfall."

"I heard the Rare Men helped him retake most of Shyonnississ from the Deathknights. Those evil devils never stood a chance! I bet they ran away and hid!" Another person shouted.

"My cousin fought beside the king before he was garrisoned here in the capital. He told me that they rarely had time to sleep between battles," another said.

"In the worst blizzard in years, too...," another added.

"I hope they make it back safely," one woman, holding a crying baby in her arms, said.

The soldiers sent to the capital were dragging dead bodies of both Deathknight and human remains alike and had been doing so ever since they arrived one week ago while the king journeyed to Thykran. Erebus too had come to the capital, although they had not seen him. He was tasked with carrying those dead Shadowbirds into piles of their own. The bodies of the Deathknights were not as heavy as they would appear, and now cooled through death and the unforgiving wintry weather, were placed into their own piles and the human bodies were placed in another.

Several hours had passed and they were still waiting outside devotedly. The streets of the capital, once a place aggrandized by its common festivities and relative joy and peace, stood empty and in ruins. Gone were the loud and excited shouting from the many food vendors who were determined to sell their food and goods to the many crowds of people each long and tiring day. Gone were the passionate street performers. No longer were the streets filled with the playful laughter of children and honest, working parents.

Now there was only dust and decay to roam quietly about the healing land. There were battered buildings, fallen statues of the gods left so shattered and scorched they looked like crumbles of coal. The sky even lost its blue luster, instead of the bright blue sea in the sky, it shone only red and somber.

Life in the empire was almost primitive, a country of rattled nerves haunted by a daunting past that was not so long ago and ever since they were escorted out of the shelter sites, the people seldom left their homes, until today.

Though the sky was matted in a disquieting red, they stood with hopeful hearts for their brave king's return. They could imagine the heroic gallops of those brave soldiers riding upon the backs of their horses as they ventured through the ever-enduring danger which still remained present in the domains of the nation. The wild wind fighting their way past their king's flowing hair. They adored their king more than ever for saving the empire. But, all they had to go on were the war tales passed on by some of the returning soldiers. They wanted to see him with their own eyes. So they waited. Outside of his modest home, they waited.