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Alongside the death of Duma came the return of Zeke's memories. It was disorienting, to have the first identity once again. He paced himself in the time after the battle, and when everyone stopped to camp for the evening, he retreated to a small, hidden alcove away from camp, once everyone was asleep.
The silence helped his racing mind to settle itself a bit, to process his identity, the Grustian general Camus. Zeke couldn't fully wrap his head around it, and was uncertain if he ever would at the time.
Something poked out of his pocket. A letter. Sealed with the emperor's crest on it. Written across the front said "Open on the event of my death, once your memories have returned."
Well, that was now.
Zeke broke the seal and began to read the words of his beloved emperor.
My dear Ezekiel,
Two things have occurred if you are reading this letter.
The first is my passing. And I greatly apologize for any grief it has given you.
The second is the recovery of your memories. And I must again greatly apologize for the grief in the remembering of your identity, and for the fact that I did know it.
Camus.
A good, Grustian name. It was the name of your ancestors far down the line.
Despite the knowledge I held of this name, the one I gave you was not far off from the truth. No doubt you recall now, it's your middle name. Ezekiel. A name I have always loved.
Your birth was the first time I gave you that name.
And once more, hopefully for the final time, I apologize for the grief that comes from this revelation.
I am your "true father," as you would often refer to the concept as.
I had traveled to Archanea, in hopes of obtaining information concerning the divine dragons in preparation in what I saw down the line as the deterioration of both Mila and Duma. While in Grust, I met a young woman, descended from a military family.
Your mother, who by all accounts I've read is still alive (and grieving over you), was a sight to behold. One of the greatest horse women there, talented with a lance, with beautiful, long blonde hair. Fiercely loyal, kind, filled with determination in any element in her life. You look and act so much like her, it was hard not to burst into tears when seeing you.
I loved her. I loved my queen, Alm's mother, as well, when I was with her before her death, do not misunderstand me. One is able to love multiple over the course of one's life, without betraying the other, or demonizing one.
I held you after the wetnurse ensured you were breathing. This little boy in my arms, not shedding a tear, I saw the world in, one outside of gods and madness. War perhaps, yes, but someone who would pave the way for peace as well.
I was not permitted to take you or your mother home to Rigel with me. There was talk of weakening the strength of Rigel if the prince and queen were foreign born. And you will recall that Berkut's father was a man of weak health, who, they feared, would perish early on the throne.
I regret many things in my life. Leaving you was one of them.
I did everything in my power to keep eyes on you, to watch you grow into a man. A general in your own right. When I heard of your alleged death against Prince Marth, I grieved days on end.
And then word came of an amnesiac man, foreign born, imprisoned due to concern that he may be a spy.
I still remember meeting your eyes for the first time that day. Those wide, fearful, brown eyes. How I wish this meeting had been in more pleasant in context, than to watch you shudder in terror. I freed you without hesitation, piecing together what had occurred, and seizing any chance to reunite with you.
I recall embracing you after this, holding you 28 years later from that moment all those years ago. My boy, in my arms once again. A moment I dreamed of, but never believed I would have until that moment.
Do not believe that your rank as general was the result of nepotism. You are one of the most talented men when it comes to battle and tactics, and your rank reflected this. You were already a general of Grust too, and your loss of memories could not dim your skills.
I looked for any excuse to spend time with you after that. Training, dining, simply walking when the weather permitted, just to try to know you a bit better, even with you not fully knowing yourself.
And, if you will permit me to be selfish for a moment, more than I have already, your seeking me out for comfort, referring to me with fatherly terms, meant the whole of the world to me.
I remember, in a time of distress, you calling me "Papa." So briefly, and you apologizing to me so quickly, made me yearn to have been able to have heard you say that throughout your life. But that soft little voice of yours, you trusting me enough in that moment, and in other vulnerable moments, gave me a glimpse of the boy you were. I felt protective over you.
And for me to send you away. To bear witness to my death. The overwhelming horror and grief I must have caused you. Not knowing that our embrace before you went to battle with, and then against Jerome, would be our last.
Oh, Ezekiel...
I pray that one day, you may forgive your selfish father, though I am undeserving of it, and yet, not as undeserving as you are of the grief I have caused you.
My oldest son. Sable Knight of Grust, loyal General of Rigel, and above all, my dear baby boy...
Know that despite it all, I loved you, and will continue to do so beyond the grave.
Your Papa,
Rudolf
Those last three words were all that was needed for Zeke to finally wail in grief from all that was lost and found to him.