Chapter 6

Did they make it? I wonder to myself as a kick to the chin wakes me up. The cold metal chains dig into my skin as I struggle to move. I look around and I’m on a wooden platform in front of the Cathedral. Ash gently falls atop of me, and I notice that the factories aren’t producing any smog. The sky begins to open up, as tiny rays of sunshine pierce the dark clouds. To my right, I see Thomas unconscious. To my left, Varys looms over me. He notices my movement and declares, “It seems they have awoken from their long slumber! Clerical magic keeps dead bodies ripe for killing it seems! Cryo dearest, how does it feel to be the first?”

“The first what?” I ask grogily.

“The first to die, the first to usher in a new era!” The crowd murmurs in contempt and confusion. They look upon the stage, wary of whatever news Varys has to declare. “These three are traitors! Not just to Stoneveil, but all of Vespera! Their sacrifices will serve as an example to our enemies. Whether you are heroes from legend, or ordinary villains, no one will escape the judgement of the Cathedral Terra! The bastion of hope and despair, the vessel for crushing the dreams of neerdowells.” The crowd begins to pick up in excitement.

“Hope!” I scream. “This isn’t hope, it's exploitation. You’re leading countless people into dying for a pointless war!” Thomas finally wakes from his slumber.

Varys ignores me as the crowd drown out my pleas to his humanity.

“Today I kill these traitors! Tomorrow, I cleanse their kind from this plane of existence! We have toiled every day for 15 years. These deaths will be the fruit of our labors!” He raises his sword over my head. I look at the crowd, and so many are cheering, yet so many also hold doubt. Regardless, none of them are willing to stop this. What a sad way to go out.

A voice cuts through the cheers, “Wait!”

Varys pauses to see a boy standing at the front of the crowd. The people around him give distance as Varys lowers his sword, and points it at the boy. “Who do you think you are to stop my ceremony, my moment of triumph!”

“I am Belphor II, son of Varys, heir to the throne.”

Thomas looks at the boy in shock. That's Belphor! What is he doing?

Varys jumps down from the podium to meet the boy face to face. “You dare echo not only my name, but the name of my son? The son I lost 15 years ago. You truly dare to speak his name in my presence!?”

“I know it's implausible, but that's no fault of my own, you have to believe me. Stop this violence and let them go!”

I can see Varys losing his patience. I tug at my chains to prevent the impending doom that Belphor will suffer. “Varys, no! Don’t do this!”

Varys leaps from the platform, and lifts his greatsword, ready to cleave Belphor. The crowd erupts as a figure dashes through the many people. It’s David!

David catches Varys by surprise and knocks the greatsword from his hands with his quarterstaff. He then swings his fist toward Varys, but it is caught, shocking David. I hear keys jingling behind me as my shackles are released.

“Save my son,” says the old man. “It’s what your ‘duty’ is all about right?”

I ask “What? Why are you here?!” before he points to overpowering David, and approaching his sword. I look to release Thomas, but guards begin rushing the platform. I have to act now!

I leap down from the stage and lunge for the sword at the same time as Varys. I'm not very strong, but I believe I can hold out long enough to let Belphor escape. As Varys tugs at the sword, a red ornate gem glows on his belt. His body begins to swell with power, snatching the sword with no effort, flinging me into the crowd in the process. He dives toward Belphor for the killing blow. I rise to my feet, and grab a sword from a nearby guard. I place myself between Varys and Belphor just in time.

“Oh mighty sword! Cleave my opponent!” Varys chants. His sword cleaves through the air, swift as light. Heat generates from the sword, sparks crackle from the air, the edge slicing through the surrounding rust.

I raise my rapier to block, and it splits into two. David tackles me just in time as Varys’ sword strikes the ground, burying itself in the concrete. Varys picks up David, and launches him dozens of feet away. He then kicks off the sword, kneeing me in the jaw, discombobulating me and sending me towards the platform. I don’t think I can make it in time! “Varys! This isn’t the wa–” Blood sprays as the sword cleaves through Belphor’s shoulder blade, and through his torso. He is killed instantly. As he falls, a locket clanks on the ground, broken.

The crowd falls silent. Varys retrieves the locket, and suddenly stands frozen in shock. He slowly approaches Belphor, and lightly lifts the bangs on his forehead. Underneath them lies a birthmark resembling a bird. “Son?” Varys squeaks out.

“No” I cry. “It didn’t have to be this way. It doesn't have to be this way!”