A Plea From an Old Friend

“I DEMAND AN AUDIENCE WITH THE EMPRESS. STAND ASIDE, GRAY,” said the commanding voice of Prince Cyrus, he and his men squared against the old knight guarding the door to the Throne Room.

“I’m afraid that’s not possible, Your Highness,” replied the grizzled veteran, supported by members of the Palace Guard, the Order of the Golden Bloom and even the Temple of Respite.

“Whatever Grandmother is discussing with her, it’s also for me to hear.”

“The Madame told me the contrary. If you wish to talk to them, please wait until their current discussion is done.”

Cyrus gritted his teeth, seeing his younger sister’s honor guard had no intention to back down. At what point had she become so bold to oppose him?

“There’s a full-blown spatial calamity in the south,” the prince started. “Galardos was nearly killed by Lord Vahram last night, and there are rumors of an angel skulking in the slums. As the Crown Prince, it’s my duty to be involved in all of this. So why is everyone keeping me out of it!?”

“That’s for the Empress to disclose in private. After this meeting is done, of course.”

“DOMINIC!”

Cyrus yelled at him, but the old knight didn’t budge. If the prince wanted to enter, he’d have to wait patiently or draw his sword. Such were the orders given by his young mistress.

But just as the latter was about to occur, one of the prince’s lieutenants hastily entered the hall from behind him.

“Your Highness! I have a report,” said the officer, nervously approaching his liege.

“Someone better be dying, or I’ll have your head for interrupting me.”

“Galardos has challenged his brother to a succession duel. Lord Vahram agreed, on pain of banishment for Galardos should he lose the fight.”

“WHAT!? But they need royal approval for that! They can’t just —”

“Princess Olivia has granted it. The masses are rushing to the arena as we speak.”

The news hit him like a pile of bricks.

For years, Cyrus had tried and failed to bring his old friend back home. No matter the incident with Olivia and the war that followed, the prince had never blamed him. But now, his younger sister had allowed a series of events that would close that door forever.

“It seems you’re needed elsewhere, Your Highness,” said Dominic, a smile escaping from the corner of his lips.

“You sly old shit…” cursed the prince, before turning his back to leave. “To the arena! We’ll stop this duel at all costs. Find Galardos, immediately!”

“Yes, sir!” replied his men, before disappearing with a teleportation spell.

“Good luck with that, Your Highness. Goddess knows we need it,” said the old knight, watching the prince storm outside the hall in all his fury.

--------------------------------------------------

At the break of dawn, Galardos knelt in prayer inside a small chapel, nestled in the private quarters of the Imperial Arena. A majestic sculpture of the Goddess stood before him, illuminated by the morning light shining through stained glass.

After his meeting with Olivia, Galardos took up the mantle entrusted to them by Zarielle: to escort Milla on a grand pilgrimage in search of the divinity of the Living God.

But this quest, above all, had to remain a secret from friend and foe alike. Therefore, Galardos needed a plausible reason to leave the Empire for good, so that he may travel the land unimpeded.

His most reliable option was as clear as day:

Exile.

An actual, state-sanctioned exile would be the perfect cover — it would paint him as the desperate loser of a fight for succession, making him irrelevant for the Inquisition and the Zarian Order as a power broker.

Of course, turning him into an errant demigod would raise alarm bells of its own, so Gizelle would graciously volunteer to babysit him. Such was the plan they pitched to the Empress, who wouldn’t oppose kicking Galardos from her realm.

Princess Olivia would sanction the duel, and after losing the fight against Vahram, the demigod and his group could leave the Empire unimpeded.

It was an airtight plan, mostly… except for a couple of variables.

And one of them was —

“GALARDOS!” cried the Crown Prince, slamming the doors of the chapel open.

The demigod in question stood to his feet, meeting Cyrus face to face.

“My brother, my friend…”

“Hello, Cyrus. It’s been a while.”

“Ten years. Ten damn, long years I’ve looked for you… and now that you’re back, this is what you greet me with? A duel for succession?”

“I’m doing what I must, my friend. I take no pleasure in this fight.”

“Then call it off! It hasn’t started yet — you can still stop this madness!”

“I can’t. The Goddess knows I would love to, but I really can’t.”

“Why not? You’ve never cared about…” the Prince stopped midway, coming to a realization. “This isn’t about succession, is it? You’re planning to lose.”

Galardos stared at him in silence.

“Why? Why do you want to leave us like this?”

“You already know the answer to that.”

“I don’t! No one tells me anything here! You, Mother, Grandmother… hell, even my sisters won’t tell me a word! Olivia, of all people, went behind my back and sanctioned this duel out of nowhere. I’m just done with this bullshit! No more smoke and mirrors, Galardos. Tell me here and now, why are you tossing us away like this?!”

It was an earnest plea — Galardos’ closest friend, who’d been with him through high and low, begged him for the truth.

But alas…

“The Empress cursed me,” the demigod had to lie.

“What?”

“Back when your father died, she let me have it... and to this day, even Gizelle can’t lift the damn thing. I came to talk things out with her, and we decided it would be best for us to leave. Maybe there’s a cure out there, and we’ll try to find it.”

“It can’t be...”

“See for yourself. It’s here in my chest.”

Cyrus’ eyes glowed with energy at Galardos’ invitation.

Then the prince dropped to his knees, a wave of nausea overcoming him as he saw the dark and foul rune inscribed onto the heart of his friend.

“I can’t stay here like this, can I?”

“By the Gods…”

“I’m sorry, Cyrus. I should’ve told you sooner, but… we’re in no shape for a civil war.”

The country had lost the Emperor, Naivdar Prelati and Galardos himself, as well as thousands of Imperial Knights… all while their foreign alliances laid in shambles. If the noble houses turned against each other in such geopolitical climate, the Empire wouldn’t survive.

“Olivia was kind enough to help me arrange this, and now I must ask you to do the same. Vahram doesn’t know of this, and neither does Arlene. They can’t know.”

“Damn it… Damn it!” the prince struck the ground, leaving a crack on the hallowed floor of the chapel. If his mother’s crime ever came to light, he was well aware of the consequences that would ensue.

“It’s only a temporary leave, Cyrus. I will return someday.”

“We’ll bring her down when you do. Galardos, you have no idea how much she has changed since that day — changed for the worse.”

“I’ve heard a few things.”

“Not nearly enough,” said the prince as he stood up. “There’s war in her eyes, brother. She doesn’t speak of it, but I can see it… ever since Father died, every waking moment she’s been consumed by revenge. Sooner or later, she’ll wage a war against the Republic unlike anything we’ve ever seen. She’s laying the groundwork already; I’m sure of it.”

The demigod grimaced at the news.

Some rumors about it had reached him, but hearing it from Cyrus corroborated his worst fears. Even in the midst of the angelic crisis, the woes of the Empire only seemed to pile on.

“Ask Olivia for help. She might not be able to stop her, but she can stall for time.”

“I’ve done that already.”

“Then do it again. She has Dominic with her, and he still has influence over the Palace Guard. Together, they might sway enough of the Empress’ loyalists away from her.”

“I’ll see to it.”

“Thank you, Cyrus. I know I’m dropping this on you out of nowhere, and I hate doing so. But I was in no condition to meet you any sooner.”

“How’re you holding up? Are you alright?” asked the prince, his temper losing a bit of steam.

“I am for now. I rigged the Irilithan to sustain me, but it won’t hold forever. I went insane back then, and if my self-geas fails me… I don’t know what will be of me.”

“Oh, brother…” said the prince, looking at the abominable curse once more. “What even is this thing? I’ve never seen magic so hideous before.”

“No idea. Probably an old trick she learned from the demonic invasion, but I can’t get rid of it. Reality Warp won’t scratch it.”

“I’ll check the archives. There must be something about it in the old tomes.”

“No, don’t waste your time on that. Gizelle and I are working on it, so I need your attention here at home. If we’re not careful, I won’t have a country left to return to.”

Cyrus clenched his fists.

It was frustrating beyond measure, but he couldn’t do anything to help his friend.

“So be it. I’ll hold the fort, but you have to promise me, Galardos,” he pointed his finger at his chest. “You’re coming back in one piece. Don’t go dying on me, got it?”

“Got it. I’ll be back soon enough.”

The prince nodded as the two of them locked eyes.

“And once you return, don’t keep things like this from me again,” he added, grabbing the demigod by the cuff of his armor. “If there’s a fight, I’ll fight with you. I’ll bleed with you. Don’t you ever treat me like a stranger, or I’ll beat you to a pulp.”

“We’ll see if you can land a hit by then,” the demigod smiled back.

“Bastard,” the prince let go of him. “Have your duel, then. I hope Vahram trounces you good.”

“Oh, I hope he doesn’t…” the demigod muttered to himself, watching his old friend walk away in his deceit just as the Goddess had requested.