The Weight Of Truth

The east garden was bathed in the cold light of the moon. Roses, heavy with night dew, swayed gently in the slow breeze. Their dark red petals caught the silver light, shimmering like small, scattered stars across the green bushes.

Fredreich sat still on an old, weathered stone bench. The flowers seemed to surround him, holding him close. His crown was just a faint, dull glint in the pale light. His face showed no sign of the sneering tyrant I had seen in the castle halls, and no hint of madness. Instead, his eyes were heavy with a deep, weary sadness. His shoulders were slumped, pulled down by some invisible, crushing weight. He touched a single rose petal, his fingers trembling as if tracing a memory he couldn't quite hold.

Then he looked up as my boots crunched hard on the gravel path. My rage burned hot and tight in my chest, a knot of pure fury. It was fueled by his smug face at the banquet and the cruel accusation from Amber in my dream: What did you do?

“This garden belonged to my mother,” he said. His voice was soft, rough, and cracked with memory. “She planted every rose here herself. I would run here as a boy, with Faelar always at my side.” His gaze drifted over the red roses, lost completely in the past. “I remember sitting here in my mother’s lap,” he laughed to himself, “she seemed to have the brightest smile I had ever come across. Brighter than any star I had ever seen.”

He paused, looking over to me, his eyes almost swelling with tears. “Yet, even as a child, I saw the pain she was going through, Aizawa,” his voice cracked, “I saw how she was branded as a demon, unworthy of being in the royal court.”

His gentle words were empty noise against the blood spilling now at Blutklamm.

“Enough,” I snarled, my fists clenched so tight my knuckles were white and trembling at my sides. “Call back your forces, Fredreich. End this war now.”

His gaze shifted back to the roses surrounding him, caressing them gently, ignoring my demands entirely as he continued to reminisce. “She never wanted to be here. She never wanted to have me, a child with a man she despised. She talked often about Ambrose, about Arthur, and how one day, she’d meet them both but that day never came.”

I walked over, grabbing his robes and yanking him close, my voice a raw scream. “Fredreich, stop this madness now!”

He tilted his head, a low chuckle escaping, bitter yet strangely gentle. “That dagger in your pocket, Aizawa. Will you finally use it?” My hand froze on the hilt, shock slicing through my fury. How did he know? He laughed again, sincere, almost kind, his eyes glinting with something like pity. “You’re too easy to read.”

Rage erupted as I swung, my fist cracking his jaw. He staggered into the roses, petals scattering, a thin trickle of blood running down his lip. “Don’t you understand!” I yelled at him once again, as he struggled to get up, “I have complete control over Luxion now, Eisernfurt and Feldheim are no longer with you, you won’t win this war, Fredreich!”

“I know,” he whispered, getting up slowly. He looked me straight in the eye with a kindness I had never once seen on his face. “I’ve known for quite some time.”

The simple words hit me like a solid blow to the chest. My consuming rage suddenly faltered as a dizzying shock surged through me. I ripped the dagger from my pocket. Its poisoned blade flashed silver in the moonlight. I leveled the point at his chest. “What are you saying?” I demanded. My voice trembled violently, and the sound of my own pulse was a deafening roar in my ears.

Fredreich’s voice softened, becoming clearer and steady despite the fresh blood on his face. “Aizawa, why is it that Lianne came across Faelar and you near the Blutklamm range right when you needed her most?”

I staggered backward, struggling to find an answer, even as I still held onto his robes, pulling him close for support.

“Don’t you find it strange, Aizawa, that not a single scout or troop came in your way when you escaped from Kaisergrad?” His voice was low, yet calm and gentle, lacking the condescending tone I had been so used to.

My last reserves of rage began to diminish rapidly. I was a master of words, a master of counter-argument, yet I had no reply. Like a brute who had lost his argument, I responded with my fist again, slamming his cheek and sending him hurling back into the soft flowers.

“You tried killing Amber! You tried killing Jaeger!” I screamed, clinging to the only solid truth I had left.

“Faelar is not a cruel man,” he coughed, wiping blood from his chin as he struggled to get back up. “He knew that you saved his niece from being punished at the hands of Remus. I wanted him to find a new purpose, a true purpose. He would never have carried out what I asked of him, and I knew that when I sent him.”

“Why,” I grabbed him once again, my fingers digging into his shoulder. “Why would you do all of this?” My voice was no longer a scream of rage, but a desperate, broken plea.

“This nobility, this military, this kingdom,” his eyes fixed on the cold, towering castle behind us. “They would never change, Aizawa. My father’s entire legacy of oppression and injustice had to end. It needed a final, undeniable proof of betrayal.”

He chuckled softly, his clear blue eyes glimmering under the moonlight as they shifted back to gaze at the roses beside him. “This is the least I could do for her,” his voice a faint, fading whisper. “To destroy all the things she hated. To give Amber the throne she should have had.”

“They won’t leave you, Fredreich,” I screamed at him, my voice cracking. “The nobles, the military, they’ll crucify you for this treason!”

A fitting end,” he smiled, his gaze unmoving, finally at peace. “It is the only way to cleanse the rot.”

Footsteps scurried behind us as I instinctively let Fredreich go, Rafael and the military officials from before came rushing to the scene. I looked at the dagger in my hand and then back at the guards, my heart racing.

However, they proceeded to walk past me, ignoring my presence altogether as they surrounded Fredreich.

“King Fredreich,” Rafael unsheathed his sword, as big as an entire person, “your rash decisions have led to turmoil and suffering in all of Mittengrad.”

The gray-haired military official from before cleared his throat. “Effective immediately, all of Mittengrad is under martial law and your failure to rule has coerced us into this decision.”

“No, wait.” I called out, my voice low, desperate.

“Please, Aizawa,” the military man turned to face me, “this matter does not concern you. You shall have your peace that you desire.”

HHe turned back to face a battered Fredreich, a sly, predatory smile spreading across his lips. “For your crimes, you will answer, Fredreich,” he said. He waved an arm to the rest of the guards, who proceeded to seize the King like a common criminal. They grabbed his robes and began dragging him away, their actions rough and humiliating.

As the guards hauled Fredreich past the shattered roses, he turned his head slightly and met my gaze one last time. His eyes were wide and steady, filled not with sadness, but with a terrible, final clarity.