The Requiem Of An Empress 22 Mien: Azeban

Agone, when Sarakiel Helian had just started to tour the battlefield, he was simply a gifted 14 aethras old lad, wet behind his ears. Devoid of hesitance but br.i.m.m.i.n.g with mercy, he slaughtered those who aren't considered their allies.

The senior knights and soldier were heartily reluctant to be responsible for the guilt of murdering the cleanhanded populace. Their disinclination managed to become a pool of vomit that festered the most malevolent of emotions, ready to be dived in by those who didn't have the power of choice. Ergo, the squadron that the Duke was a.s.sociated with, made up of neophyte youngsters, was tasked to execute the unarmed, the women, the elderly, and the children.

It was inoculated in his system that his main priority was to prevent the psychotic former Emperor from castigating the Helian House, by virtue of him opposing the mandates. Shouldering that burden alone, he unwillingly acceded to carry the rue of his duties for three straight aethras.

If not for the current Emperor's struggles to stage an end to the autocratic reign of his father, the battlers would've long lost the lucidity of their judgments, including Sarakiel.

Duke Helian elected to bemoan the sins he had perpetrated by suffering the same fate of the people who perished by his hands. All the same, the deities seemed to have intervened in his fortune.

Upon their initial meeting in the interim of the rambunctious battlefield, Emperor Hector Atticus Seraphiel acknowledged Sarakiel's potential right away, conferring him the 6th seat of the Rounds. This encounter changed his goal in this lifetime. From wishing to be buried with his perpetual guilt, he turned to aiding the benefactor of the entirety of the Seraphiel Empire in his journey to nurture the harmony of the land.

Nevertheless, the trauma of seeing the light in the eyes of the blameless victims fade with a slash of his blade still haunts him to this dier. The groans of the undead never left his ears as he distinguished the people he killed among them, serving as the conclusions of his daily nightmare.

His past may not be all that connected to what the Empress had endured. However, it was enough to trigger his agony, sweeping him out of his calmness. This torment is his eternal punishment for the unwarranted crimes that he committed.

Sarakiel woke up in the midst of an endless darkness, the silence terrifyingly deafening. The beads of sweat that crowded his face slid down, wetting his already damp hair and shirt. The Duke sat up, unusually exhausted following his slumber.

'No matter how many times I experience it, that nightmare...'

"You're awake."

His self-loathing was disturbed by Zelel who just entered the guest room where he was in.

"Yes, My Lord. What happened? Why am I here?"

Zelel walked up beside the single bed and sat down on the creaky chair. His countenance was quite scribbled, appearing conflicted even.

"You lost consciousness.", the minister said as nonchalant as he could to not impose any unnecessary blame on Sarakiel.

Thankfully, the lad set aside his apologetic visage. He didn't want his emotions to dominate him a second instance.

"Did I cause that much of ruckus?"

"No, not really."

"I see. By the way, where is the commander?"

"He's having a discussion with the Kishnar siblings."

Truthfully, those are not the questions that he wanted to be answered. Sarakiel was merely unprepared to hear a response opposite to his expectations. Nevertheless, it is a fact that he ought to accept sooner than later. Thus, he inhaled with an adequate amount of air to stimulate his brain prior to speaking.

"Were there any improvements in the Empress' condition?"

"As I've told you, the sole incident that occurred was your collapse. Lord Percival had to carry you all the way down here. We waited for some minutes, hoping for you to wake up. Withal, an hour pa.s.sed by that you remained sleeping, so we decided to tarry. You did drowse off for an additional three hours.", Zelel responded as honestly as he could, absent the consolation.

Sarakiel hurriedly bowed his head out of abashment.

"I'm sorry. I didn't antic.i.p.ate this result. In the end, we failed."

Zelel looked at his pitiful comrade. He perfectly knows that Sarakiel will beat himself up over this failure the moment he is alone. Duke Claudas put his hand on the knight's crown, patting it lightly.

"No one did, Sarakiel. We have yet to exhaust all of our options, so don't be woeful."

"Thank you, My Lord. I'll do my best." Duke Helian gave his acquiescence, though his voice was meek.

Still and all, the little talk effectively motivated him, evident from his refreshed visage.

"That's the spirit." - Zelel proudly commended Sarakiel. He patted the lad's head twice more before raising his hand to place it back on his lap.

The both of them did not say a word after that as they a.s.similated with the comfortable quietude.

Minutes came by when the door swung open all of a sudden, revealing the presence of their foreseen visitor. It was Mikhail who halted his steps and simply stood by the doorway.

"Good thing you're awake, Sarakiel. Can you move?" - He uttered his introduction sans the greetings. It was his usual demeanour, eliminating the element of surprise to the two resting beings.

"Yes, My Lord."

"We're going to drop by the Frumier palace to consult with the Emperor.", Mikhail informed them of their next course of action without even asking the two people for their opinions.

"Are we disembarking now?"

"Yes."

"As you wish."

Mikhail might have sounded desensitized by forcing the newly woken up Sarakiel to work. Howbeit, he would have opted to stay if his subordinate requested it. Since the lad approved of the plan, it left Percival with no choice but to comply.

Zelel picked up the knight's coat, hanging on the backrest of the chair, and handed it to Sarakiel. He then a.s.sisted Sarakiel in rising straight up, apres him wearing the coat.

Latterly, the three of them sauntered en route the main entrance.

Meanwhile, the twins were in the foyer, watching out for the arrival of the trio. Ere long, the men reached the border separating the interior and the alfresco.

"We express our grat.i.tude for the abetment that the Lords have provided."

"We are grateful."

The handmaidens spoke of their appreciation with their upper bodies bent forward.

"We will come back tomorrow, before the Sierro rises." , Mikhail replied. He didn't unlearn to return the respect that the maids showed him, bowing to them once.

"Please do as you see fit. The Soltis palace will welcome the three Lords any time."

"Please be reminded of our rules."

"We haven't forgotten.", Zelel rea.s.sured the ladies. They did not desire for a conflict to arise between the Emperor and the Empress in any manner.

"Very well."

"Please be safe on your journey."

The twins straightened their bodies to properly send off the Emperor's retainers.

Then and there, Mikhail, Sarakiel, and Zelel stepped out of the palace and padded the dirt to where the Claudas House's carriage was parked.

Tara and Sura did not let go of their gaze on the three men, not until their carriage cannot be seen in the horizon any further. They bided for some added seconds, previous of closing the double doors to the Soltis Palace.

Simultaneous to hearing the clicking resonation signifying that the door lock is in place, the genteel facade of the sisters faded. Their countenance mimicked that of an impartial judge.

"Those d.a.m.n graceless creatures. Why did they bestow such a dangerous spell to a human?"

"They just can't stop their nosiness. At any rate, wouldn't it be fun if we reveal the existence of this spell to the world?"

"It's unused after all. Thanks to your warning, we were able to steal that enchantment. What are you scheming, older sister?"

"Hmm... Isn't the jealousy of a woman truly frightening?"

Tara stared at her sister, telling a story of mirth and deceit through her smirk.

"Oh, that poor feeble woman. Whatever could we do to her?"

Sura copied the ominousness of her twin's smile, but her's climbed up to the corners of her eyes.

"Let's play with that ugly hag."