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He took a deep breath.
He stood on the podium, Pure White Trust in hand, a frown stuck on his face as he looked down upon the people of Theranhad who had gathered for this important announcement, they recognised their advisor and also the Emperor's staff in his grasp.
“The late Emperor, Lord Zio, is no longer amongst the living.”
The people gasped, shock and surprise quickly filling the crowd, and Zahhak allowed their confusion to continue for a moment longer.
“His rule was undeserving of the short amount of time he stood above us,” the crowd was forced silent when he spoke up again. “He sacrificed all he had for those who dreamt of a tomorrow. Relish in this fact.” Zahhak lifted the staff. “Now, cherish his final words, as he rested all responsibility for Theranhad in my hands.”
The unrest quickly faded, as they felt they no longer had to fear for the absence of an Emperor. Zahhak had served Theranhad for long enough now and brought prosperity each year, each generation.
But amongst those, were immediately ones who began to doubt his words.
(“What happened to Emperor Zio?”)
(“Would a child be able to sacrifice himself like that? I know he was the Emperor… But…”)
(“What if…”)
(“You don't think…”)
(“Did Zahhak get rid of Lord Z-”)
(“Hush! They'll hear you!”)
Zahhak sighed.
“I understand your worries.” He said, stepping forth and unsheathing his sword. “But in this dire time, a ruler with both experience and strength is needed.” He pointed his blade at the sky, and then pierced it down into the wooden podium he stood on. “Those who think they can surpass me in these qualities are free to force my hands off the throne. I'll crown and serve you myself, and resume my duty as advisor exactly as I had before.”
The crowd was silent as they came to terms with the situation. Even the most greed possessed of nobles felt their throat dry up at the thought of crossing blades with the crane of Theranhad. No mercenary for hire would do it in their name either, no amount of gold would suffice to give up one's life for such a futile attempt.
“No volunteers?” He smiled, lowering the people's guard. “My reputation precedes me. I will thank you for recognising my strength… I promise to keep your best interest at heart, as Theranhad’s Immortal Emperor.”
He turned around and the better half of the audience cheered, with only a small amount questioning the future of their country.
Though, amongst them stood one lone cloaked figure, with burning red eyes staring daggers into his back as he exited the stage.
His hands trembled on the hilt of his sword.
But a gentle pair of hands calmed his nerves.
“Ran…” She said, hugging his arm until he stopped shaking. “It's time to let it go.”
He let go of the hilt of his sword, but he didn't stop shaking, he was controlled by his emotions now more than ever.
“Let's go.” The voice in his ear said one more time, and he finally listened to her as he pulled his cloak’s hood down his face.
They soon disappeared into the crowd.
Later that night, Zahhak entered the throne room high up in the heavens and stared down the seat of gold. He had never had a desire to touch it. Not once. Yet now it belonged to him…
No, rather; He was stuck with it.
The staff in his hand was heavy, still he was unable to let it go.
The gazes following him through his everyday life seemed to have multiplied after his announcement today, he was sure all of Natalon had learned of his “promotion” by now.
How many more assassination attempts would he have to be cautious of? It earned a laugh. Yet laughing he could not.
Once upon a time, Lua would be standing there on the opposite side of the room, asking him if this was something he'd ever want. He rejected the proposal.
Now she was gone, and he was here.
Zio would nag her and tell her to know her place, saying Zahhak knew it besides the throne, as he was sitting on his throne with an air around him that was richer than any Emperor he's served thus far.
Now he was gone, and he was free to take his seat.
“Why am I alive?”
Zahhak turned around to see Sharun, accompanied by Yoonryoung and Hasol standing by the staircase. She had an expression of indifference on her face, while Yoonryoung already knelt and shut her eyes. Hasol did the same.
“That is what you're asking yourself, is it not?”
“That question has been on my mind for as long as I've been alive, high shaman.” He smirked. “You would do best to ask yourself the same question, still.”
She said, “Oh, forgive me…” She bowed before him. “Your Majesty.”
“Raise your head.” Zahhak said, regaining his stoic composure. “Did you invite her as I asked you to?”
“Adin will join us shortly, later tonight.” Yoonryoung said, and Sharun confirmed the information. “Will that be all, my Lord..?”
“You're dismissed.” Zahhak said, gesturing for them to leave.
The three of them quietly stepped away as a result, however Sharun was the last to leave. The expression on her face was pitiful. It seemed like she had something to say, but her voice was silenced when Zahhak gave her a stern look.
“Some peace and quiet will do.”
The empty throne room’s silence was all that accompanied him now. It was surprisingly comforting.
He shut his eyes as he sank down to the floor, leaning against the throne with the staff in his embrace.
“Why am I alive?”
Zahhak shrugged.
“Everything has a designated order, without exception.”
The cold marble floor and the cold staff in his grasp agreed. They accompanied his somberness to slumber.
Later that night, as he was expecting his guest he stood by his throne and received Adin. Yoonryoung and Hasol excused themselves again and stood outside the throne room.
“...” Zahhak shared a conflicted stare together with her. “Welcome, Savior of Natalon.” He said, to which she rubbed her shoulder awkwardly. “Or perhaps I should refer to you as the successor of Sylvana..?”
“Just Adin will do, Your Highness…”
“Very well.”
Silence filled the air.
Adin occasionally took a step to the left, only to then return to her original composure once the sound of her heel on the floor rang through the room.
“Taeyou did not join you?” Zahhak asked.
“...No.” She blinked. “We had an argument.”
“That’s unfortunate.” Zahhak replied. “You two seem rather close.”
“That's only logical, we're all we have left now that y…” She cut that thought to a hold. The temple of the summer sword was a distant memory now. It was not worth showing such a grudge in front of Zahhak. “Nothing.”
“Please, resent me.” Zahhak said to her surprise. “I have been cruel to you both in forcing you to participate in a game of chess that alternated the course of your lives. But I am not cruel enough to force you to be formal towards me after all I made you go through.”
“I don't understand..?”
Zahhak gestured towards the emptiness of the room, reminding her. “We are alone. I invited you here for that reason above all.” He frowned at her, with profound sadness in his eyes. “Curse at me if it soothes you, in fact, I encourage it.”
Adin fell silent, all while Zahhak waited patiently for her outburst. He did not even steady himself. Why would he? He ruined her life, and he was there when the master of the summer sword temple breathed his last.
So when she opened her mouth, he listened.
“You look miserable.” Adin said. “All this time, I thought, why would someone go to such lengths..? What was in it for you? And then I heard of your announcement, and it all finally clicked.”
Zahhak’s gaze fell to the ground.
“At least, that's what I thought at first. Instead, you look genuinely miserable. I can see it, you know? Because that's how I looked.” She smiled weakly. “Losing everything, struggling to get by day to day… That was normal to me. I already grew used to it… But looking at you now…”
“...” Zahhak looked at her, realising she was holding the hilt of her sword this entire time, and finally let go.
“I cannot make myself able to ever forget your sacrifice.” She turned around, she could not look at him any more today. “I haven’t forgiven you yet. I have to know how truthful you are.” She opened the door and left. “I need more time.”
Zahhak sighed.
The emptiness in his heart mirrored that of the room.
He was tired, but he knew he had one more guest to entertain.
Adin answered honestly, saying Taeyou had no intention of joining. But he was informed she did not arrive alone, which could only mean…
The door slowly opened.
A chilling breeze filled the air.
Recognising that nostalgic smell that belonged to none but a sole lone wanderer tugged at the corners of his lips. But that force was not strong enough to convince him to smile in the face of it.
“Ever heard of knocking?” Zahhak said as he saw two red eyes in the dark hallway. “It is a common courtesy practised by those who possess manners.”
Ran slammed his sheathe onto the ground twice, he had enough force to make the bumps echo through the room. “Will that do, Oh almighty Emperor?” He asked, approaching Zahhak.
“This is an intriguing way to seek shelter from the rain, and quite convoluted, might I add.” He told him, without keeping track of whether Ran was right behind him or twenty steps away.
“It’s not the season for rain, Oh almighty Emperor.” Ran smirked, angry.
“It was a matter of speech, nothing more.” Zahhak replied, steering that anger.
“I figured I’d congratulate our benevolent Emperor after that speech this morning.” Ran said, stopping at the bottom of the staircase. “Rewriting history once more, masterfully done!”
“The victors are owed the right to rewrite history as they wish.” Zahhak glared at him, meeting his gaze for the first time since a long time. “You would be most aware of this fact.”
“I never deceived anyone.” Ran glared back.
“And neither have I.” Zahhak said. “And saying that is our right as we were both victors in our corresponding fights.”
Zahhak's index finger travelled over his chest, imitating the slash once left behind by someone he considered an old friend.
Strangely enough, this stranger got agitated by this gesture.
“You're making it hard not to want to cut you down right now, my Lord.” Ran’s teeth clenched and he took one step into the staircase. There was danger in those words, yet Zahhak was pacifistic against it.
“So you wish to ascend my throne?”
Ran licked his lips. “I wish to color it a specific red.”
Zahhak smirked. “You’ve always been quite the artist.”
Ran took another step. “It takes one to know one.”
Zahhak did not know fear. He welcomed him closer. Whatever else may follow suit, was welcome to.
Ran was finally opposite to him, slightly taller than him, yet he still couldn’t bring himself to look down on him.
“The least you could do is take that off.” Zahhak said.
“Your orders mean nothing to me.” Ran replied. Still, he allowed his cloak to fall on the floor.
“There you are.” Zahhak’s stare devoured each inch and every corner of Ran’s familiar figure. Ran was helpless to resist, and the black marks on his face were accompanied by a shade familiar to the color he promised to paint the throne with. “I returned everything I owed back to you, and still you come back to me.” He raised his hand, and Ran flinched at first, until he eased up against the touch of his hand against his face. “How helpless you must be without me.”
“I made do without you all this time.” Ran’s eyebrows twitched, biting his lip as he was being caressed by the familiar warmth. “I can… Do it again.” He stood his ground and resisted the fingers playing by his ear, intertwining with his hair and inviting him to let out his animalistic growls. “I don’t need you.”
“Do the others know you’re here?” A breath escaped Ran as he heard that question. “You decided to come here by yourself, without consulting them?” Zahhak shook his head. “Reckless as always. You excel at nothing more than making others worry for you.”
Ran flinched, and in a short second of losing his temper, he found his hands wrapped around Zahhak’s throat in the next.
“ You don’t get to say that!” Ran yelled, wrapping tighter, gritting his teeth and pushing Zahhak against the throne. “Before you forget, I still hate you.” He explained, heating up, and the coldness in Zahhak’s blue sky eyes did nothing to quench his rage. “All this time, I’ve hated you. Do not forget that.”
“You are right.” Zahhak whispered. “You have every right to hate me. I took everything from you.”
“So don’t try…” Ran squeezed even tighter, but he couldn’t bring himself to look at Zahhak. “We’re long beyond repair, Zahhak!”
“I know that better than most.” Zahhak told him, silently choking as he was running out of air. But he was able to control his breath enough not to make Ran notice. “Is that all you came to tell me? A letter would have sufficed to state the obvious.”
“Your remarks, even now…” Ran whispered.
“Allow me to state something obvious in return.” Zahhak said, and Ran’s hand loosened as he noticed the blush on his face. “You have always had a need to hate me. Your hatred for me pushed you along your pathetic travels.” He smiled, almost as if he enjoyed inflicting that verbal pain, but they both knew that was but the case. “Your hatred was necessary for your survival. Am I right?”
“That’s…” Ran grew angry again, but this time he was not allowed to lash out.
“It’s never enough for you, is it? Even after all I put myself through, to give you a peaceful life with Amid, you return to me to seek a target for your hatred.” He grabbed his staff and pushed it against Ran’s chest. “Even now, despite trapping myself with this burden of watching over these trivial, rotten, insignificant and vile creatures which formed the root of all our problems, as eternal punishment, it’s not enough for you, is it Ran?”
“Zahhak…” Ran tried to reach out for him but his hand was slapped away.
“What more do you want from me?!” Zahhak raised his voice. “No amount of planning or preparation can turn back time! This is all I can manage to do with the cards I’ve been dealt!”
“Zahhak…” Ran softly called out. “Please…”
“Enough! You wish for me to also carry the burden of knowing I can never satisfy your grudge?! Then I will!” He slapped Ran with his staff. “You know what to do with a broken sword, right, Ran? You replace it! It has outlived its purpose. Amid is right there, waiting for you!”
Ran always struggled with words. That burden always belonged to Zahhak. He’d always speak for him when he couldn’t. He’d always translate the truth in his heart. He’d always explain the emotions on his face. He would always do these things no one else was capable of doing for him.
However, Zahhak had prepared him for a scenario when he’d need to explain how he felt, when he would not be there.
“Leave.” Zahhak told him when he had run out of breath and energy.
“I’m sorry.” Ran said.
“...” Zahhak blinked. “...Leave.”
“No.” Ran answered, grabbing tightly onto Zahhak’s shoulders.
“Must you hurt me even further?” Zahhak struggled. “Will you truly not leave me until I no longer breathe?”
“I won’t leave you this time.” Ran pulled him closer. His warm yet shy and startled breath tingled in Zahhak’s ear before he pulled him close enough to wrap his arms around him. “That’s where it all went wrong. Didn’t it?”
“...Why the sudden self consciousness?”
“Don’t get cheeky with me.” Ran closed his eyes. “I’m trying to understand. I know I can.”
“You’re certainly taking your time with it.” Zahhak answered, still frozen in his embrace.
“I’ve always relied on you to help me understand. You made understanding things so easy.”
“...” Zahhak fell silent.
“When I couldn’t understand you… I panicked.”
“...”
“When you wouldn’t help me understand… I got confused.”
“It was not the right time.” Zahhak answered.
“But now is a good time.” Ran told him. “I’ve waited too long before I could start understanding.”
“What’s the point…” Zahhak struggled again, but Ran would not let him overpower.
“Now is the only right time!” Ran said, fear overtaking his voice. “I’m not patient with me like you!”
“Oh…” Zahhak laughed. But only once.
“A laugh, huh?” Ran smiled, shut-eyed. “Seems I’m on the good track.”
“Don’t overestimate yourself.” Zahhak hid his face deeper into the crook of Ran’s neck. “Understanding one another does not guarantee you will like what you learn.”
“...” Ran hugged him. He tried his best to comfort him, and what to say in response to that philosophy. He then chuckled and decided to be himself. “Zahhak? You know what to do with a broken sword?”
“You replace it.” He answered. “Keeping a broken sword around is dangerous, and will prove to be nothing but a hindrance.”
“You sharpen it,” Ran interrupted him. “Of course.”
“...And why is that?”
Ran couldn’t help but giggle as he felt Zahhak nuzzle against him as he tried to look at his face without breaking up the hug. It was a ticklish feeling he wasn’t used to.
“Because the future does not guarantee you’ll ever find a sword like it.” Ran leaned in closer, surprising Zahhak with a certain gesture. “You should know that I, for one, treasure all of my swords.”
“...Fool.” Zahhak said, low on breath due to the surprise.
“Your fool.” Ran smiled, surprising him with another gesture, and another, and another.
Eventually, Zahhak yielded his resistance.
“...My fool.”