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Chapter Text

Dear Jophiel,

Sincerely, Schpood

The fire crackled, embers of fire rising to kiss the furnace. The Emperor's chamber had sunk into a solemn silence. Queen Jophiel sat on the bed, it's luxurious silk pillows and fur lined blankets messy and wrinkled.

She stared at Schpood's portrait as she rested her head on the headboard, drawing her skirt up to cover her feet. "Hmm… when was this drawn? You look very dashing here." The Queen mused before laughing, a memory of some other time she had gazed upon his portrait flashing from her fleeting memories.

"Is it an accurate portrayal?" Lady Seraphim asked, pointing the sheath of her shorter blade at the newly sent portrait of the Emperor. "Don't sneer at my husband's portrait," The Queen reprimanded, lightly and teasingly, flicking her pen towards her oldest friend.

"You're not even married yet!"

Jophiel only rolled her eyes and went back to the documents she was handling. Once and again stealing glances at the Emperor's portrait and smiling giddily.

"And no, Seraphim, he's cuter in real life."

"Cute?? Are we talking about the same Emperor here?"

And the Queen's memories could only play so far. She looked at her hands, pale and decaying. Skin breaking and falling, her flesh rotten. Blood, dry. She couldn't see her reflection but she thought if she could, she wouldn't recognise herself.

The door creaked open and Schpood sauntered in, weariness following his footsteps. The Queen rose quickly, flitting by his side. "How was your day?" Shrugging, she turned as he headed to his desk. "Fine, ignore me."

But when she glanced at him, the Emperor was slumped on his table. His hand placed a top her diary, she couldn't recall how many times he'd read it.

"Geez, that's invasion of privacy you know? You probably know me better than anyone now."

Schpood groaned as he lifted his head, his eyes heavy with sleep but his mind far too filled to sleep. He thumbed her diary and then flipped through the pages, lips moving as he read through her entries. Again, and again. He knew every word by heart. Just as he memorized her face from her portrait before they met and now again after.

'I wonder..back then, did she ever think about me too?'

Out on the wily, windy moors
We'd roll and fall in green

It doesn't hurt me (yeah, yeah, yo)
Do you wanna feel how it feels? (Yeah, yeah, yo)

The plans that he'd delayed, destroyed and ultimately dug up were laid across his table. The Queen stood horrified, she knew. Only after her proposal had been accepted, but Jophiel found out that had it not been for that, everyone else would've been right about Schpood.

"But I kept my tongue when I was alive because I believed in you… now.. why, why must you resort to this again? Or did you plan to do this from the start?"

Schpood who had been staring at the map of Yggdrasil felt a chill down his spine and gooseflesh on his arms. He looked around, the candlelight flickering.

"How could you?"

He could hear her, exclaiming her protest at his plans. As if she were there, just beside him, privy to his plans. He promised himself, when he'd realised he would rather have her than all the resources of Pandora that his operation was an ill dream.

"Jophiel, please believe me. When our arrangement was made, I had no plans on continuing. I swear on all the gods that would have me. I did not desire it with you in my arms."

"You ask me to believe you now?"

Schpood took a shaky breath, thinking of her response. He could see her clear green eyes, the same vibrant green as the thriving life of her nation. Full of disbelief and disappointment.

"Maybe you are a tyrant after all, Schpood. I see now that I was wrong."

The Emperor shuddered at the gust of wind coming from the shutters he was sure was closed when he entered. Finger tapping on the table, his plans of world domination did not seem so appealing. He could hear her voice, echoing and echoing.

"You lied to me,"

"I did, my Queen. I'm sorry."

"You promised you wouldn't. I thought you loved me enough not to."

"I do, I still do."

"You tried to use me."

You had a temper like my jealousy
Too hot, too greedy

Do you wanna know, know that it doesn't hurt me? (Yeah, yeah, yo)
Do you wanna hear about the deal that I'm making? (Yeah, yeah, yo)

That night, as he lay in his bed unable to sleep Schpood felt a wave of comfort come over him. A cool sensation on his forehead. He was reminded of one of the times Jophiel had dragged him away from their duties. A small room in Tricolour's palace hidden inside the library. The couch was small and they barely fit, but the sun shone through the stained windows, turning the white couch pink.

He remembered her sweet smile as she guided him to lay down, his head on her lap as she massaged his forehead. Her voice seemed that of an angel as she sang to him.

He was her comfort, he realised now. "It's been nothing but agony since you left. You know that, don't you, Jophiel?"

'I want to weep,' Schpood thought. "I want to be comforted. I'm exhausted of being strong. For once I want to be careless and vulnerable. If only for a while, a moment in a day. I'm not even asking for an entire day." These were the same words he told her that day in the library and Jophiel told him, "You can do that with me if you like. I'll comfort you as many times you desire."

Her embrace was heaven. Warm and soft, like clouds as she held him. He was reminded briefly of when he was a child, snuggled and covered in his favorite blanket while it was storming. Despite the thunders outside his window, it was safe and snug. Jophiel's comfort felt just like that. Then she kissed his forehead. Just a peck and yet, it washed away all his pain.

"All my life, I've never been able to hold onto something that gave me so much relief. I am the Emperor of Westhelm, I can't afford to be anything but sure and strong. Or so I must be, lest this empire crumbles to the ground. As they say, Rome was not built in a day but it could in one.

I've denied myself the luxury of comfort for ever since I can remember… Being weak is a privilege. But you extended your hand to me. Someone wholly for me, who wished for my respite. When I finally got my hands on you, Jophiel, I thought it would be fine to be selfish. Just once and have paradise in the palm of my hands. Eternity all for myself. To grow old together. And with you, I thought that I could."

The Queen listened, and listened. Her fingers combing through his long, curly locks of rich dark brown. Nails scratching his scalp, the other hand caressing his cheek.

How could you leave me
When I needed to possess you?

You
It's you and me

A fortnight ago, the one who had been responsible for the Queen's demise, and many others, now realised he may have bit off more than he can chew. Yggdrasil had indeed not attacked.

But he was right.

'I was still right. Better have a weapon and not need it than need it and not have it.'

"My sister sent you?" He asked the lady seated across from him, an Yggdrasillian priestess she had claimed to be. A black veil covered her fair. Her pale blue hair, like cornflowers peeked from underneath. Hands covered in henna, the ink red, black and gold as they swirled and danced.

Dressed in dark robes and an even darker dress of mourning black, fitted in gold and lace, Fluxion figured she might've been telling the truth. "No. I came of my own accord." Her voice was soft, gentle even and unsettling.

The paranoid man bristled, 'Why? It would've been different if she'd been sent by Cyn..'

"I came to serve you, Dante."

'Dante?'

"I'm afraid you're meeting the wrong person. That is not my name."

"It is, he and you are the same."

He looked at her as if she'd grown a second head, not a word made sense. But suddenly, he had an idea. He was not a wasteful man, resources were resources. He'd found his second Seraphim. Although perhaps not an angel.

"Prove it."

Days later, Fluxion was unsure whether to pat himself in the back or be terrified. He'd called it right, the girl had some use to him. She followed him like a puppy, albeit silently. A nun, his men had teased. It didn't matter, she was able to convince what was left of the Commonwealth to ally to his cause. It was an adorable devotion, he decided. He liked keeping her around. She had never yet to question him, and every time would answer him ever so sweetly. Like a devoted worshiper.

'I wonder, how far will you go for me?'

"What's your name, priestess?"

"Dhaedrys.. My name is Dhaedrys, dear Dante."

Scouring through keeps and scrolls and records in Westhelm's library and past that, to even one only the Imperial family could access, Schpood failed to find an ounce of the knowledge he wished.

Ever since he'd heard whispers hear and there of Infernus's mysterious priestess, the one who bathed in blood and tears, magic that could defy the laws of nature Schpood set out on a manic search of similar powers of his own gods. Alas, Legatus Exul was not a god so merciful.

At last, his patience had grown thin, much as it usually did. He summoned Skipolo, hands clutching what few records he found. The commander was ushered in, clad in green armour. Schpood almost looked away, green.

"You called, Emperor?"

At once, Skipolo could sense the trembling rage of the Emperor. It seemed to be the emotion the Emperor was fond of lately. None of his shrewd recklessness. 'And yet this might be a good thing finally.'

"I heard a strange rumour from the soldiers and travelers. Infernus is in possession of strange magic."

Skipolo didn't answer until a beat later, adjusting his helmet under his arm. "We've yet to receive confirmation from Lady Hex, Emperor. Whether this claim is true or not."

But Schpood, impatient already only burst into anger. "Whether it's witchcraft or propaganda, I will decide!" Skipolo stood much straighter than before, strangely feeling invigorated by the Emperor's wrath that dripped with a thirst for blood.

It was an open secret that their absolute ruler was more than fazed by his betrothed death. 'Since the Emperor's reign, the empire has only left to gather grain. There's never been true war in my years of service, perhaps now..'

"As you command, Emperor. I'll send a few scouts to verify-"

"No! Get me that infernal witch! The priestess of that Dreaded Volcano! Find her! Find her!"

It did not take long for the Emperor's orders to be carried out and soon, Dhaedrys was dragged to the throne room. She hadn't been shackled but Skipolo ensured she'd not be able to flee Westhelm as easy as she did the first time.

Schpood, upon seeing the girl with a striking resemblance to his Queen, thought he might be going crazy. She didn't look at him, only ahead, with a straight face that looked strangely like his when bored.

"I hear you possess a strange power, Infernus Priestess."

"Do you always believe everything you hear, Emperor?" She bit back, shrugging her arm away from Skipolo's hold. None of them noticed Spyder slipping into the room, he'd just been drowning in paperwork moments before.

'Fuck, fuck- this could lead to war. If Infernus retaliates for the treatment of their priestess. Those fanatics..'

Schpood chose not to argue with her, after all, if it was true then he would be at the mercy of her favour and not the other. Standing from his throne, he descended the steps slowly.

"I promise no harm will befall you, if you do as you're told."

Finally standing close enough and taking a closer look, he realised the girl's eyes were a shade darker than Jophiel's. But they had the same frown when displeased, with that he was familiar. The number of times he had pushed Jophiel's buttons were innumerable.

"Is it true? You are able to bring the dead back to life?"

At his question, the girl laughed, filled with derision and Schpood held back his temper. He found he couldn't admonish the girl who resembled Jophiel.

"Even a child knows that can't be, Emperor. Why? Who do you wish back? Your Queen?"

Spyder closed his eyes, silently praying to Legatus Exul to at least spare the girl pain from her incoming death but to his surprise, Schpood answered calmly.

"Yes. Yes, I want my Jophiel back. Can you do that?"

"You cannot return that which is lost, not even an emperor commands such power. Over life and death, you have no authority."

Schpood took a step back, as if taking a punch. In the back of his mind he knew, he believed there was a way to undo what has been done.

"No, surely. If not you, someone else. There is a way, these rumours did not come from nowhere." He began to mutter to himself. Spyder and Skipolo shared a look than back to the pacing Emperor.

All of a sudden he stomped towards the Priestess and grabbed her by the face.

"I won't be tricked! I will have it, do you hear me priestess?!"

Dhaedrys sneered, her head tilted and held high despite the Emperor's crushing grip. For a moment, Spyder saw a stubbornness he only knew from Schpood.

"What price will you pay?"

Schpood, it's me, I'm Jophiel

Say, if I only could
I'd make a deal with Ish
And I'd get Him to swap our places

Normally, the Senate would disapprove of a foreign religions ritual being cast in Westhelm. In the Citadel! Of all places. But Emperor Schpood would take no objection.

There was an altar of marble that the priestess had filled with herbs, Spyder noticed, herbs from Pandora. 'How does she know how to use those?'

Only two were allowed to witness it, the Emperor and his Consul. Fearful of an assassination attempt however, the outside was filled with guards. The Priestess's hands bound with only enough for her to move.

"The ashes."

Schpood was startled when she suddenly turned. "Ashes?" Dhaedrys frowned, rolling her eyes. "The Queen's. Don't worry, I won't use it all. Just a tad." And when the Emperor handed the precious glass vial to her, she cracked it open and promptly threw the ashes in his face.

True to her words, she left little more than half. Schpood stood flabbergasted, covered in Jophiel. Clearing his throat and carefully keeping the glass bottle again, he watched the girl sit in a circle, singing to flames she'd lit.

'What a strange girl.'

She grabbed a knife, the sight making Spyder draw his sword until he saw her cut herself. Blood sizzling over the fire. She sang in a tongue foreign to both listening ears, the shadows in the room moved and danced and then stopped and vanished into the night.

"It's done. I cannot do anything more than this, Emperor. At the very least, you may feel her more clearly. Even speak to her if you desire it enough."

Spyder felt uncomfortable, he heard what bare reports of her there were. Aside from natives of Infernus, who themselves were already secretive only called her mad. He feared, if instead of helping the Emperor, she cursed him instead.

To save her life Dhaedrys agreed to humour the Emperor but never promised anything. As she left, spitting at the image of Westhelm's god, she gave one last piece of advice to Emperor Schpood.

"You will find her again, of this you can be sure. Don't you know how deeply intertwined your souls are?"
I hated you, I loved you, too

And if I only could
I'd make a deal with Ish
And I'd get Him to swap our places

Saparata waited for Turntapp by the door, fiddling with his bag and what little belongings he was able to take. The leader of the Covenant met the albino skinned man, almost a little too eagerly one might think.

"I don't think it would be wise to go to Westhelm, Saps." He warned, a puff of his breath white in the cold morning air. "It was quite popular, his engagement to that Pandora Queen. From what I hear, he was quite affectionate of her. If you go and he does not believe you, I fear he will have you hanged instead. Without the mercy of those duels of theirs. I implore you, please don't go."

Saparata thought about it long and hard and found himself agreeing with Turntapp. "But I have nowhere to go, Tapp. I've run out of anything to trade." He felt a warm, reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry about that, I'll have always have Covenant's doors open for you."

As Saparata looked out into the horizon, he could see Westhelm's famed Colosseum and wondered when he would be absolved, and if come to, would he have to face a trial by combat?

In the Colosseum that day was a great fanfare. A celebration of Westhelm's founding, the merriment was at it's peak. Food, music, colors and dancing and all manner of festivities surrounded him. Schpood tried his best not to look too sullen on the occasion, but the Emperor soon slipped away. Much too early for what would've been acceptable for him to leave. But who could stop him?

That was how Emperor Schpood ended up in his chambers, where he began to spend more time in than court. He could still vaguely hear the upbeat music from the Colosseum. Closing his eyes, he removed the heavy red cloak that weighed him down. The golden crown fashioned like laurel leaves followed.

"Jophiel… my love, care to dance with me?"

True to the Priestess's word, Schpood felt Jophiel's presence much better. Feel her touch, hear the faintness of her laughter. If he ignored the unease in the pit of his stomach, it was perfect. By closing his eyes, he could almost see Jophiel standing before him.

Just like the day in the rain, they danced.

Bad dreams in the night

Be runnin' up that road

The Emperor was able to head to bed with a smile on his face, and he slept deeply. In his dream, he was riding a beautiful black steed, decked out strangely in rich colours. The crown upon his head heavy. Then in front of him, Jophiel rode by. Her laughter ringing so dearly around him. An extravagant dress of lavish silks of green and blue, embroidered with gold threads and ruby jewels on her neck. Schpood recognized why it looked so familiar, her wedding dress. He looked down, he was in the robes prepared for the wedding.

"Come on, what're you dawdling for?" She teased him, riding past to brush her hair in his face. He felt himself move before he could think as he whipped the reigns and followed her up the hill. They rode and chased each other through the forest of Tricolor a while until suddenly, she was gone from his sight. Jophiel rode too far, far too quickly.

A dread overcame Schpood as he looked for her frantically. "Jophiel! Jophiel! Answer me! Where are you?!"

He found her, Jophiel's back was turned to him. The white horse she loved so much lying on the floor. Schpood hastily jumped from his black steed and ran to her. Bit no matter how far and fast he ran he never seemed to get close.

"Jophiel!" He cried out in desperation, his lungs burned. Schpood kept going even if he seemed stuck. Then, from behind her he saw Lady Seraphim, whose face he could barely recall.

'No. No, no!'

When she turned to face him, he could finally sprint towards her. Blood dripped from her mouth, the slash across her chest bloomed a deep red that shamed the richness of scarlet in Tricolour's flag.

He caught her as she fell, wheezing. Jophiel's green eyes slowly lost it's shine as the life seeped from her. "Schp-"

"Save your strength… stay with me. Jophiel? Please, please."

There was too much blood, too little time. The Queen died in the Emperor's arms, the white of her dress had turned red. Funny, she ended up in all the colours of Tricolor.

Schpood woke up with a jolt, drenched in sweat. Even if it had only been a dream, he was catching his breath. He threw the blankets off of him and stood from his bed, grabbing the glass of water left by his bedside and gulping it down.

'What a horrid dream.'

He refused to go back to sleep, in fear the dream would continue. Tugging his own hair, Schpood fell back into his bed. Shaking, he looked at his hands and although dry and clean felt covered in warm blood.

"No! Damn it, no!" He wiped his hands on the bedsheets, but the red wouldn't come off. The dread ate him alive, Jophiel's pale face flashed in his memories. It was the same face Addison had presented to him, not the one he danced with in the rain.

"Jophiel, don't abandon me.." Schpood whispered first. Gradually he found his strength, rising he looked around his chambers. Warmer now than the previous nights.

Jophiel chuckled, "First you tell me you hate me then you love me. You tell me not to haunt you and then to do so. What am I to do with you?"

Anguish began to gnaw at him, one he thought he chased away. Looking to the side, Jophiel's portrait looked down on him. The green eyes reflected no light, dead as she was.

Jophiel who had been trying to shake him awake, stared at him with worry. Pushing his wet hair from sweat away from his eyes. "Yes, I'm here. I never abandoned you."

He paced, he did now like a habit. A sense of panic overwhelmed him. 'It was a sign!' Schpood turned to face her portrait, walking up to it as if he could shake her through her portrait.

"You're saying goodbye?! Is that it?! Perhaps you think that dance meant closure for me?" Schpood shook his head, eyes read. The past weeks had been cruel to him, so was he to himself.

"I will not allow it! You are not allowed to leave me again, Jophiel!"

He clutched the glass vial of what remained of her ashes. Schpood was erratic, turning in circles in his room. "That is an order! You understand?! I forbid it!"

Jophiel who had been almost at the edge of losing her senses trying to calm him stood stunned as if hit by a bucket of cold water. "What?" He had never uttered such words, even after she died. He'd even promised her, he would never order her the same as a vassal as she was his equal.

"You order me? How dare you?! By what authority?!"

She huffed, pushing him with her misty arms that only went through him. "I never left you! Why is that so hard to understand?! Haven't we had this conversation before? By the gods, you had a witch make sure you can feel me! Can't you?!

I'm screaming my head off for nothing. Maybe it's you refuse to feel me, I'm here. I'm right here! Don't doubt me now. That's what I command. Don't doubt me, I command it."

After seeing the Emperor back to sleep, Jophiel decided to step out for some fresh air. The Queen, after loitering in the halls, that the servants now call haunted, headed towards the water gardens.

The fountain in the middle featured a carved angel. Jophiel breathed out as she dipped her feet in the water. Suddenly, the water swished as another pair of feet dipped beside her.

"You-"

Jophiel recognised the girl playing in the water beside her. "You're the Priestess from Infernus." She looked different now, Jophiel thought, 'Now that she isn't crying.'

But of course, the Queen didn't expect an answer. Until she received one. "Not anymore. I… left." The girl began, kicking her feet up and pushing a floating flower towards Jophiel.

"You can see me? But you're… alive."

"Yes." The priestess answered simply, she moved to pull her skirt up to keep it from the water. Smiling, she turned towards the Queen. "My name is Dhaedrys."

"That's a pretty name." Jophiel said, trying but failing to steer the flower back to Dhaedrys. It still did and the young girl pushed it back again. The pink petals fluttering in the water.

"My mother named me. She… had a love for pretty words."

"So, your abilities are true."

Dhaedrys picked the soft pink petals floating in the water, laying them slowly by the Queen's feet as if in offering. "You're not surprised."

"Well, magic is rare but, it's not unheard of." Jophiel only explained, observing the girl. Strangely, she looked happy. Playing with flowers in the water. Jophiel smiled, heart feeling just a tad bit lighter as she leaned down, her hands dipping in the water with the girl's.

"You came to me as a guest, then you wept at my grave. Why is that?"

Dhaedrys turned to look the Queen in the eye but Jophiel noticed her eyes were unfocused. "I can't say."

"What can you tell me then?" Jophiel already had some idea who she was. It was no use asking. Dhaedrys stopped playing with the water, she scattered all the petals she gathered around the Queen.

"You were chosen to die. You were supposed to be the death that starts peace."

"Wait, supposed to be?" If the Priestess's words were a premonition, then the Queen's fears had come true. She chased after Dhaedrys who only told her, "It's the privilege of lesser men to see it through. And you won't be able to stop the greater man."

Schpood, it's me, I'm Jophiel
I've come home, I'm so cold
Let me in your window

Say, if I only could, oh

Schpood woke up earlier than usual. As he got ready, his eyes got drawn back towards Jophiel's portrait and the nick of the knife he'd so playfully put by her heart.

"Strange. Did I curse us by doing that?"

He reckoned that if she had heard him last night, she would've been furious. 'It must've felt like a real stab to the heart.'

"I'm sorry, Jophiel."

"I know… I forgive you."

Schpood turned at the sound of the voice and he saw her standing there, by the door as if she'd only just walked through. He couldn't believe his eyes, the morning light began to sift through the window and for a moment ho thought it was a trick of the light.

"Jophiel.. it's you."

"It is."

He approached her, steps slow and one by one. Fearful and yet reverent. He touched her golden hair, like spun rays of the sun. The pads of his fingers brushed the curve of her cheek. It brought him nearly to tears. He'd feared if he touched her she would disappear.

"I can touch you."

Jophiel smiled and pulled his hand closer to her face, removing his fear. "Yes. I missed you, Schpood."

His knees felt weak, but he didn't collapse. Still her body didn't feel material enough. As if he was only given just a little. But he could take little, even a sliver. He felt the fight taken out of him as he finally took her in his arms.

He thought he'd been dreaming again, never mind with his his eyes wide open. He pulled Jophiel to sit on his bed, holding her face in his hands with such tenderness it put a mother's touch to shame. She was cold however, like a corpse.

"Schpood… I'm right here. Waiting."

"Yes," he came to whisper, falling slowly to his knees and laying his head on her lap. Like a dog wagging it's tail at his masters return. Or a devotee finally granted the privilege of touching the divine.

It felt like drowning, the peaceful kind. He didn’t fight the waters but allowed it to take him. A rest at last, in the arms of his beloved. "What took you so long? Why did you even have to leave in the first place?" He whispered, burying his face in her skirts to hide the tears that he felt shamed his face, tears of joy he thought them to be.

Jophiel softly reached out, cupping his face, thumb brushing along the stubble he hadn't cared to manage. There was the mark of a smile reflected in her eyes, like the twinkle seen in the living.

"Forgive me, Schpood. Forgive me."

"I forgive you."

They told me I was going to lose the fight

Be runnin' up that volcano

The common folk all over the world were uneasy, especially those of the smaller nations, which Ish forbid, if war were to break out would be swallowed by the flames of chaos. In the plains of the Valley of Wheat, Emdoggo took rest from the blazing midday sun. The big tree's shade provided coolness not just for him but for his companions. Looking out into the great sea of wheat, the season had yielded vibrant golden like crop. It seemed more as if they'd draped the sun over the plains.

"A marvel to behold."

"That was what the Pandoran Queen said, didn't she?" Emdoggo said, turning to the other leader of VoW. "If I recall, she was so amazed by the wheat fields she asked if our farmers could teach hers any secrets of our agriculture. I think she even offered a trade route to ours."

"She was the first i think, to say we're 'admirable' for the cause. i think she meant it. After all, Tricolor did send us Yggdrasillians supplies without expecting anything in return."

"I like to think the Queen had the same generous heart we intend to be."

It was a brief meeting, one of the Queen's visits to Westhelm that led to her visiting the other nations. They welcomed her of course, with no one but her sworn sword and shield by her side and the Emperor of Westhelm that looked more like a guard and guide than Emperor.

"She had the same love for peace as we do. I wonder, if her arrangement with that tyrant had worked maybe our wheat could reach even Pandora."

"What use do they have of wheat? They have plenty of food," Quik06 was swift to retort, pulling out a grain that found it's way on his straw hat. "That's not the point," Emdoggo pointed out, "People are people, if we could spare every person from starving, isn't that our nation's goal achieved?"

"Well, yes, I suppose. Perhaps we could have truly given everyone wheat. Shame she died so early."

They can feel the tides changing. Quik06 did not dare say it but with everything the larger nations had been doing, he knew it was only a matter of time came to a head. He wondered if the time came, would their sea of golden wheat turn to a sea of flames?

Leave behind my Tricolor, Westhelm
Trihelm

Be runnin' up that Ashen Bastion

But scattered all over the realm were starving people, less than before but Yggdrasil remained the same. A barren, hostile wasteland. Once in a while, some miner or other would recall the brown bread sent from the other island, and they never did forget who lent the first hand.

The fearful people of Pandora, still mourning and shaken from the sudden of their leaders,. whispered here and there of what would happen. Did the barbarians of Yggdrasil truly intend to pillage their homes? Take their ores and put them to the sword?

Was every one that came to scout of one nation or another? Or was it all unfounded worry?

It was a time of uncertainty and people remembered that when the Queen of Tricolor lived, peace had never been more sure.

Leave behind my Tricolor, Westhelm
Trihelm

Be runnin' up that Ashen Bastion

Saparata stood a top his tower, the monument that would tell the world he was once here. The howling snow storm spared him no mercy. Alone, branded a traitor and exiled from his home. 'Truly, can there be a greater loneliness than this?'

Contemplating his choices, he suddenly thought of his old friend Jophiel, who had been most like a sister to him. Perhaps the accusations of the murders of the other leaders weighed on him but not so much as Jophiel's.

'How could they ever think I would do orchestrate such a thing? To Jophiel of all people? My sweet sister.'

That itself was unbearable.

Yet he changed his mind.

'I can't be at peace knowing Fluixon betrayed me.. maybe that I can forgive. But the world must know what he did, maybe at least Jo and all the other's he killed would have some type of justice.'

Suddenly, as he was about to head down he saw a figure in the snow. Black garments sticking out in the harsh white of the tundra. A lady, staring up at him and much to Saps' surprise, he could see her shake her head.

"Did she just shake her head at me? She can see me from this far?" He squinted and almost fell as he staggered back. Jophiel was staring at him. "What in the world?!" Frightened, he crawled to the ledge to see if it was a trick. A hallucination but she was there, looking up. The fierce wind billowing around her, Saps was sure, it was Jophiel's ghost.

"But her hair looks different…"

He quickly climbed down the tower, almost jumping down if only to make it faster. Flinging the door open, Saps rushed out, blending into the snow. "Sister!" He saw her stumbling in the snow and immediately reached out to raise her up. Holding her arms, he pulled her from the pile of snow where she seemed to sink.

But upon seeing her face, "You're not her.. you're not her."

The girl who looked so eerily similar, as if she had skinned Jophiel's face and worn it over hers spoke in a way that chilled him more than the tundra weather did. "Like who?"

Schpood, it's me, I'm Jophiel

You don't wanna hurt me (yeah, yeah, yo)

Lady Hex, who had been sent by the emperor himself, followed Saps' trail. Schpood upon hearing that Saparata was the one behind Jophiel's murder sent his best, most trusted subject. The fierce and sure Lady Hex. If he could not have Seraphim's blood on his sword then he would have the mastermind.

With orders to bring the one responsible for the plot of Pandora's leaders assassination, Hex trudged on in the snow. However she only reached an empty tower, by the time Saps' trail picked up it only led her to a lady sitting by a fire well out of the tundra.

'This is the priestess of Infernus?'

"Where is Saparata, priestess?" Hex asked revealing her presence, approaching the girl cautiously. The veil over her head was thick, Hex couldn't see her face. Bangles of gold clinked as the girls hands shook in the air, she was knelt by the fire muttering words Hex barely understood, but understood nonetheless. She waited for her to finish praying and instead looked around the small camp. The priestess had nothing but a white dove accompanying her.

After a while, a deep silence followed. If the priestess had hoped to intimidate her, Hex showed no signs of being unsettled. Finally, the younger woman slowly took a seat on a rock and turned to her visitor.

"Do I know you?"

"I don't have time to play games with you. I'm looking for the man with a kill on sight order, surely you must know him?"

But instead of an answer, the priestess cackled. Hex's confusion showed only for a brief moment before she gripped her blade and stomped over to the laughing girl. 'I'm sure his trail leads here.'

"Don't think I fear Infernus or their retaliation." Hex warned, grabbing the girl by the arm. Black silk slipped by her gloved hands as the priestess drew her arm away from her hold. "Of course you don’t. I don't fear you either, or Westhelm of which you serve."

"How do you-" Hex bit her tongue to hide her exclamation. Warning bells rang in her mind, 'Danger! Danger!' Before she could move, the younger took the bottom of her veil and raised it, revealing her face. Hex took a step back, the dead queen's face staring back at her.

"Look at me." The priestess demanded, head held high. "I could not have seen him even if I wished." Puzzled, Hex quickly packed away her shock and intrigue, and hid how truly disturbed she was. The priestess's eyes were clear and bright, a rich verdant green but Hex noticed, how with so little detail her eyes were staring past her if not at her even when she was right before her.

"Your blind?"

"Partially."

Grabbing the girl's face Hex asked, albeit too harshly, "You look awfully familiar. Related to the Queen of Tricolor perhaps?" This time no matter the probing, she didn't get an answer. 'Sorcery. Has to be. There is no other way for the dead queen to be here. She's using it to get to us. Schpood. Oh Exul, I have to keep this girl away from Schpood.'

Hex sneered and doused the fire before pulling the priestess to her feet and dragging her to the edge, right above the boiling water. "I won't ask again. Where is Saparata?" Hex expected her to flail or try to hold on to her but instead, the younger girl only reached out and tucked stray brown hair behind Hex's ear. Dhaedrys whispered, "Do it. You've already betrayed me once before."

I'm coming back to his side to put it right

You (yeah, yeah, yo)
It's you and me

In the end, Hex pulled the priestess away from the boiling water, her back soaked. "Fine," She admitted before slapping chains on the priestess's wrists. "Your coming back with me to Westhelm. This time your stay will be the dungeons."

"Wait."

Hex smiled, "What, changed your mind?" But the priestess only shook her head and reached her bound hands towards the dove whose coos Hex had ignored. The priestess kissed the dove's head, whispering, "I'll be fine, sweet dove." And she set the bird free, watching it fly to freedom.

Chapter Text

Schpood, it's me, I'm Jophiel
I've come home, I'm so cold
Let me in your window

Say, if I only could, oh

Meanwhile the Emperor watched his builders complete the aqueducts, smiling proudly at their work. The waterways spanned miles, a tastefully built art of architecture.

When asked what else to build, the Emperor just waved his hand and said, "Build what ever you want."

Westhelm, despite it's quiet preparations, to outsiders functioned as usual. The rash Schpood thought it best to lull them into a false sense of security.

Still it didn't help the attempts against his life. The Emperor laughed after another failed, Legatus Exul seemed to favour him.

"If you could call this favour. If he really did, he would allow me to die. Isn't that right? Why are we living anyway.."

When his preparations are completed, men would tremble to behold Westhelm's might.

The cheers of the crowd in the Colosseum rang loud, red flags waving proudly at their helms. The afternoon sun basked the empire in a golden light.

Emperor Schpood stood above them from his podium. He watched enthusiastically as Remy and Retit fought for their lives. The clash of shields and blades enthralled the crowd and the Emperor himself cheered.

Schpood's lust for life seemed to return. Even his eyes brimmed with vigor. That moment, as Spyder observed the Emperor he saw the Emperor of old. With all his gusto and spirit returned.

From beside him Skipolo whispered, "He looks well. Better in weeks, I'd say." To which Spyder joked, turning away and focusing on the match at hand. "Maybe we ought to find the witch and thank her."

"I thought she was a quack, or a mad wom- Hey! No, no!" Skipolo forgot what he was saying, gesturing in disbelief as his champion died. Remy the Rat came out victorious and so did Spyder. The consul patted Skipolo's back with a hint of teasing.

"Pay up."

"Damn that rat. Cost me 3 gold!"

While the general was lamenting the loss of his coin, Schpood left after there had been nothing left to enjoy.

He then went to check on the water gardens he had built for the Queen. Spouting fountains, beautiful sculptures of marble and pink flowers. It was only garden in the Citadel.

It was built to shelter the Queen that had come from fertile lands and pretty weather some reprieve from Westhelm's cruel climate. A rest from the dry heat of Yggdrasil.

It was glorious, a fitting gift for a Queen soon to be Empress. He never thought Westhelm could be decorated so. He crossed the bridge leading there, where underneath a manmade stream flowed leading to the pools.

The wisteria from Pandora had grown surprisingly well as did the bougainvillea that began to hang around and climb over other trees.

"Do you like it?" He turned to Jophiel who walked beside him, playing with a fallen pink peony in her hand. "Do I like it? I love it! You should've showed me earlier."

"Yeah.. I should've. In future," He cleared his throat, shaking his head. "I thought perhaps this would be a fitting place for our children to play in."

"That's nice, we could find them playmates too."

"Them?" Schpood asked, puzzled and giddy, ignoring the prickling gloom in his chest. "Yes, as in plural." Jophiel laughed, her golden hair bright and glowing under the sun.

"Yes, yes… that would be nice."

Falls through without you

It's you and me
Won't be unhappy

The gardens, the only place rich of green and flowers in the Citadel reminded him the night her first met her. Especially as the sun began to set. "Do you remember what you told me? That you weren't running from me? I find it hard to believe now."

There were times she wouldn't. answer him, disappearing as she pleased as if to punish him.

Which of us is a liar now? I shouldn't have helped you out of the bushes that day. But what can I do, I already did." Then he came upon the temple, Legatus Exul looked from his altar. The birds perched upon his shoulders chirped happily as the Emperor entered.

Jophiel who had been of a different faith, sat beside Schpood on the stone benches. "I asked him once, if he'd allow me to enter another after life. He never gave me an answer." Schpood took Jophiel's hand in his, in a clasp that was meant for prayer.

"I'm sure yours would never allow me to sully the halls of your peace," He raised her hand to place a kiss on her knuckles, dark eyes meeting green. "But Jophiel, I care not for both gods now. Regardless, I will not be permitted to see you. A sinner like me shouldn't have dared covet a saint, an angel. Especially not after I'm done with my mortal affairs."

Before the god of his nation, Schpood put her upon the altar and kissed her feet. "I ask you to end my agony and to forgive me, for what I am to commit."

Schpood, it's me, I'm Jophiel

You don't wanna hurt me (yeah, yeah, yo)

The Queen on the other hand was in more pain than she was, even when her flesh had been eaten away leaving only bones for the rats to gnaw. But running her fingers across the shard steel blades, the iron tipped arrows, the chain mail being prepared at large. Diamonds mined for armours, she lamented the loss of peace slipping through her fingers.

She picked up a sword and swung, if only she could cut down what caused her sorrow but even while living she may never point her blade towards Schpood. 'If I never met him perhaps I could meet him in the field of battle.'

She flung the sword away, grabbing the arrows and throwing them too. "This isn't what I wanted. It suffocates me, torments me more than reliving my own death. I thought you understood this! Even if you prostrate yourself upon my feet, do you think I would forgive this?! That you wish to wage war and expect me to bless you?!"

She paced across the altar, her hands pulling her own hair. "Oh, Oh- How could you even ask me such a thing?" Her eyes filled with ache as she knelt to beseech him. "You mustn't do this. Schpood, I beg you. Curse me all you want for dying too early. I promise I shall never again leave your side. I will go with you after your death and we shall never be parted. Only do not do this.

Think of the people, of mine and yours. And many others who do not deserve to be dragged into this."

Looking into his eyes, a tear fell from hers. Her cold, bony fingers pressed against his sallow cheek. She kissed the side of his jaw, whispering her earnest desires as if a kiss could equal a lifetime lost.

"Help me Jophiel. I'm going insane, help me through this. You can't forsake me now."

I've come home, I'm so cold

But see how deep the lava burns (yeah, yeah, yo)

Schpood rose, his knees throbbing from his long he'd been kneeling. Strangely his burn scars itched, they were barely noticeable from the sleeves of his coat. Pale pink and gnarly. His hands were now more than calloused.

"We both have burns, how funny. I only realize now that we have something to match."

As he headed out of the temple, Spyder was running up to greet him. Now, the consul shouldered the work of Owo6 as well. "Emperor," he began catching his breath as he matched Schpood's pace and pulled him along. "Lady Hex is back…"

"But? You know I can tell when there's something you don't want to say."

Spyder scratched his head, laughing nervously. "She didn't return with Saparata."

"WHAT?!" Emperor Schpood erupted, steps halting immediately. Spyders hold on his arm shrugged off. "Did I not explicitly say-" Spyder stepped back three paces, raising his hands in surrender. "Peace! Peace! Don't shoot the messenger. Reserve your lecture for her. She's waiting for you in the dungeons."

"That's good that he wasn't caught,"

Puzzled Schpood turned to Jophiel as if she'd lost her mind. "It wasn't Saps who planned the assassinations. I know he would never do that to me."

"Is that what you believe?"

"What?"

Spyder tilted his head, wondering why Schpood asked that and he looked around to see if there'd been someone else.

"Not you." "Oh.. um.. who..?"

Shaking his head in disbelief Schpood stormed the dungeon with a stormy expression. Spyder called out from behind, already retreating, "She has the priestess with her though!" And although he didn't enjoy the boatload of work piled up for him, he enjoyed Schpood's outbursts less no matter how entertaining the shower of expletives be.

"Damn it! Why must everything go to hell one after another! First Arcturus betrays me and then this?!"

"You must be more careful, my Emperor. You have many enemies now."

'The number of people I can trust grow smaller by the day.'

The woman waiting had her back leaning against the huge wooden doors leading to the cells hidden underneath the Citadel. Long brown hair tied up in a braid, sword in hand. "Grand vizier," he called, marching up. The guards stationed were waved away. "What's this I hear, my order was to bring me Saps. And release the priestess. I promised her protection in exchange for her help."

Hex couldn't help but gawk. "Help? What help? She is a sorceress, who knows if she cursed you instead?!" She threw her hands up in exasperation, "What were you thinking-" "Enough! I am still your Emperor, you will not speak to me this way. Now, release my benefactor, Hex."

But Hex didn't let up only pressing harder, "I must caution you against this, Schpood. I understand that after Queen Jophiel-" Yet, she was cut off once again, "You have not right to speak her name!"

Hex stood shocked, and briefly mortified at the admonition, she did not argue to it's truth. "Schpood, please. I don't think letting this girl free to do as she pleases is the right choice. At the very least, she is a useful chip against Infernus."

But the Emperor was adamant and entered the dungeon to free Dhaedrys himself. "Are you seeking to undermine me, grand vizier?" He asked, taking one of the torches that hung from the wall. It's black smoke rose like a warning.

"Is that what you think I'm doing?" Challenged the grand vizier, unfazed. She followed it calmly promising, "I'm trying to keep you safe, Schpood. You know this. All I've ever done was for you."

Another woman's voice overlapped with the grand vizier's, overpowering and yet low and quiet, the Queen's. A whisper, "You can't be sure she means it, my Emperor. After all, how many assassination attempts has it been? After Senator Arcturus, it could be anybody."

Schpood stopped, the heels of his sandals digging into the cobblestone floor. The stench of the dungeon unbearable, that of rotting flesh in the crevices. "Hex, tell me something. Do you believe Saparata? On his trial he insisted it was someone else who made the trap." This time, the Emperor turned to meet her eyes, the same shade of brown as his staring back.

Hex paused tilting her head, confused, but answered honestly nonetheless. "I believe him. He has no motive, and the evidence is circumstantial. Besides, he was a confidant of Queen Jo-, the Queen."

She saw the flicker of the flames reflected in the Emperor's eyes who stared at her intensely. "So why then… are you stalling your investigation on purpose?" The air around them plunged, heavy and eerie. Schpood's anger would most of the time be loud but on occasions he was simmering were the dangerous ones.

Hex laughed. A short, startled laugh. She couldn't believe the words that just came out of Schpood's mouth. "Do you hear yourself? Me? Stall an investigation? Schpood, you know I would never do that! I want justice for the Queen same as you."

"But it's not the same, Hex. You wouldn't understand. Your lover lives and breathes as we speak. Mine isn't."

"Schpood, you're going too far."

"Answer my question, Hex. Are you deliberately delaying the investigation?"

She glared at him and spat, "No. I wouldn't dare."

Schpood shook his head and asked, "Who is speaking to me now? My grand vizier and twin sister? Or the Conspirator's lover?"

Let me in your window

Unaware I'm tearin' you asunder (yeah, yeah, yo)

The grand vizier left as soon as she arrived, Skipolo noticed and rather angry at that. He shrugged, the arguments of the royals he tried best to stay away. So long it didn't affect the empire. He followed the priestess out of the Citadel for a third time.

When he returned, it was in time to see the Emperor laying waste to his study. Priceless artifacts and everything else that could be destroyed lay shattered on the floor. He was screaming, yet again and Skipolo scrambled to chase the servants away. He dismissed the guards and stood at the Emperor's door.

'It's getting harder to keep Emperor Schpood's outbursts from the people. Here I thought the little priestess's spell worked. Even if only as a placebo.'

"Jophiel-"

'The Queen again? When will you leave the Emperor be? After three exorcisms you're still here? I suppose I would be a fierce ghost too if I died a violent death, that's slow and agonizing. To feel your flesh burn. Your blood evaporate. I'd be a vengeful ghost indeed.'

"We ran out of time, but I will fix that Jophiel. Otherwise, I lose myself without you."

Ooh, it gets dark, it gets lonely
On the other side from you

Oh, there is thunder in our hearts (yeah, yeah, yo)
Is there so much hate for the ones we love? (Yeah, yeah, yo)

On the turn of the month, the Emperor of Westhelm sailed for Tricolor. Greeted by King Gabory, very little knew of what was discussed,. much less present. But Spyder, who accompanied the Emperor, did.

'There's no backing out of this now.'

By the time the Emperor boarded his ship back to Yggdrasil, he had Tricolors army within his ranks.

King Gabory watched the ship bearing the black sun sail away. "Forgive me, Queen Jophiel." Tricolor had agreed to support Westhelm in a formal alliance. 'It's better than destruction,' Gabory rationed to himself. He feared that even though Queen Jophiel loved and lived for Tricolor and is the reason the Emperor was so determined, how can the dead ever hope to stop the living?

"Only the living has power on this realm."

With knowledge on only Westhelm's highest ranks, Emperor Schpood gathered his council and gave orders to prepare for war.

I pine a lot, I find the lot

You
It's you and me

One of the servants, after seeing the Emperor walking leisurely in the water gardens, fled. The staff knew to run when they see him in the night. He and his ghost bride.

In the dark, lit only by pure moonlight of the full moon, he held her hand. The softness of her tender flesh and the way a star caught it's reflection in her eyes. "Don't you feel cold? He asked as Jophiel took a dip in the pool, pulling the fabric of her red dress up even if it wouldn't have gotten wet.

"Not really, are you?"

Chuckling, Schpood chucked his leather sandals off and followed her into the water that reached past his knees. His coat left hanging by the wisteria. The water was biting cold, but his numb legs paid it no mind.

"Schpood,"

"Hm?"

"It's time to stop now."

He tilted his head wondering what she meant. He moved to sit by the ledge, dark brown eyes never leaving her figure afraid she'd disappear into the night again. "I mean… You can move on now and let me go. I think, you're ready."

Contrary, the Queen was dead wrong. Schpood rose instantly, chilling waters splashing noisily.

"You don't have to avenge me, Schpood." Jophiel continued, walking towards him. Schpood saw the glow of the moon on her skin, as she herself was shining in celestial light. The Emperor shook his head and held her face in his hands, something he'd had a fondness too. What he couldn't to a portrait.

"My queen of peace, how kind you are. But I am not and I can not. If I can not have you alive, I will have them dead."

Jophiel drew away from him, horrified. "Is your hunger for war so great?"

Schpood, it's me, I'm Jophiel

Oh, come on, baby (yeah)

The Queen turned away from him, as if in shame and the Emperor gave chase. The water playing by his legs parting in ripples.

"No, no. No, Jo. Don't turn away from me, please. You know it's the time to cross the bridge. I'm doing this for you," Before Schpood could continue, Jophiel turned swiftly with a pointed finger at him. "Do not use me to justify what ever this is you are planning to do! I am not your excuse!"

"NO! You are not. You are my reason, Jophiel."

"For war? For everything I stand against?" If she could, the Queen would've wiped her tears against his skin so he would be marked by her indignation to the motion.

Schpood stood in the midst of the pool, legs freezing, he was freezing but numb to everything else. It was his turn to plead his case, as he did before the alter when he prayed to her. He didn't reach out and she didn't leave.

"Answer me."

"I gave you my answer. Everything changed because of you, I've told you this until my throat was sore. I-" The Emperor choked on his own words but continued nonetheless. "I can't bear this pain because I love you. Not loved, if I could forget you and do as I please. Don't you think I would've done that? If it hadn't been for you, I would've invaded the damned place the moment I could."

"But you're going to do it now, so what difference does that make!"

"Everything! You changed everything, Jophiel! You think some mere ore or wood would satisfy me when you are the loss I'm trying to reclaim?! I love you… I thought, I thought you would understand. I tried to convince you but you clearly haven't heard me, which is fine but you must give me a chance.

I cannot go on like this any longer. I gave up this operation, I gave up everything you didn’t like. I have no complaints, if it made you happy then I'm happy. I tried not to do this but do you know what they did? They brought me your head!

I can't let this be. And I'm sorry that I'm not the man you thought I was."

"You are! You still can. You need only cease this madness, Schpood." Jophiel had eyes that of a doe and had, time and again shaken his heart. Especially when her sweet voice quivered but instead her pleading drove him mad.

"Why won't you let me avenge you?!

Tell me, Jophiel! Are you not hurt as I am?"

"Don't insult me, Schpood." She said in warning, slowly drawing towards him. Eyes brimmed with tears and a rage that was so foreign and yet fitting upon the Queen. "But we can't change things as they are! What good would more death do?!"

"What good did yours?! You of all people did not deserve to die! So gruesomely even. Did they care for your life?! You, who is kind, and good and-" Schpood cried before he realized he did, he made no effort to hide it.

"I’m so sorry, Schpood, so desperately sorry, but it is what it is..." Jophiel tried to comfort him, rubbing his arms covered in gooseflesh. "But that is something I must deal with, and I accept that I'm dead. Despite how it may have happened. You should too."

"No, no," Schpood disputed, stubborn as he is. He backed away from her like she hit him. "I simply can’t accept it, Jophiel. Because why must I be the only one to suffer a loss?"

"It's exactly because of that. Do you wish this upon others?"

"Those responsible, yes. And since it seems there are too many responsible, then all of them be damned."

"Schpood, this isn't you talking. Doing this would be a disaster, you'd be miserable!"

"If I don't fight for you, I'd regret. I'm no perfect saint, let me do this for you."

"You wish to wage your war, in my name?!" Jophiel uttered, her fists clenched at her sides. "You ask too much of me, Schpood… I can't. I'll grant you anything, but this."

Emperor Schpood refused to hear it, shaking his head. The night breeze did not wake his spirit as it often did. He pulled the Queen's hand and brought it to his lips, "I'm in pain, Jophiel. Please, please."

Queen Jophiel refused him in return, the hand he'd brought to his lips pressed a gentle finger against it. "And you should declare war because you're in pain? You will hurt others the same as you are now? How many husbands and wives, and brothers, sisters… mothers and fathers will you sacrifice to ease your pain?"

"As many as it takes."

A sigh of disbelief escaped the Queen's lips and she yanked her hand from his hold. The shake of her head in disapproval barely noticeable, nor the way her eyes trembled in barely restrained tears of emotions she could hardly name in the moment.

"I can't agree with you in any way, so I won't at all. I hope you come to your senses, I know you Schpood. You have a good heart no matter how many times it may be denied you. Eventually, you’ll see I’m right, you'll see I am only a passing moment for you."

Hearing this, Schpood angrily declared, "I’d rather fall from a great height!"

"No. Listen to me, my Emperor. You will grieve me and… and soon time will help with the pain. Like your scars, I'll always be here. But you won't have to be wounded forever."

"I can bleed for an eternity for you, Jophiel. Do you doubt me?"

"Of course not, but… in time you may find another love. Some fierce, beautiful lady who will adore you and love you as I do. She will comfort you and support you. Be a good Empress for your great Empire."

Schpood only stared at her and answered quietly, as if all the fight from him had been snuffed out. "Anything more?"

"You know what I say is for you. I'll be happy for you, truly. I wish nothing but the best for you. You will care for someone, and you’ll love her immensely, and live and die for her. As you claim to do for me. I know you will, it’s the way you love... and you will...and I’ll watch over you."

"No."

Falls through without you

It's you and me
Won't be unhappy

Holding a piece of brown bread, broken as he dipped a piece into warm soup the sculptor of the Queen's statue couldn't help but remember the Queen's many visits to Westhelm. A foreign queen, they said. How could she ever truly love the people of Westhelm? Would she even understand them? Or merely tolerate them?

But every time the man ate a pice of bread, taste the wheat in it, it always brought to mind the Queen that offered the people of Westhelm if only a respite during their time of hardship.

"Off to work again.."

Reaching the square he noticed his work, upon the feet of Queen Jophiel were desert flowers of Westhelm. They were a people that never forgot a slight, much less gratitude. They were a people that loved the Queen.

Later that day, he saw people gathering again. Intrigued by the noise of the flocking people, he weaved his way through the crowds and learned that Saparata, the man accused of the Queen's murder and many others of Pandora's leadership, had come to Westhelm to meet with the Emperor.

"Finally, mayhaps Legatus Exul heard our prayers. They finally found that scourge."

"I hope they make him fight in the Colosseum, maybe the Emperor will cut him down."

"Let them put his head on a spike!"

Let me in your window

Say, if I only could
I'd be runnin' up that volcano
With no problems

The sun looked glorious upon the Colosseum, Saparata thought. And is it set upon the crowning jewel of Westhelm, it's Citadel, he realized why they had taken the name of the sun as it set.

"It's a grand city," He told Turntapp as they reached the path towards the building. The grey of stones, pink flowers blooming upon the trees on the trails. "It must've taken a great deal of skilled builders."

"It did," his companion answered, "Of course, nothing to our Covenant. I'm sure?" Saparata only rolled his eyes, nodding.

Before they reached the steps, Turntapp reached out and held Saps' shoulder. Turning, Saparata touched his hand. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I…" Saparata waited until Turntapp gathered his words, "Even if he is Emperor, I promise I'll make sure we're not both slaughtered here." Saps could feel the slight tremble from his large, warm hands.

"I know. I never doubted it, Tapp. I did say sorry for doubting you before."

Turntapp clasped his arm around Saparata's, turning away from their guards. "Hmm, do you think Tithonus ever feared Eon would desert him? Before she asked for his immortality anyway."

"Oh? Are we them now?" Saparata joked, taking the first step up the stairs. When Turntapp let him go, he pulled the other's cloak. "Well, I'm not any god. But you know what I mean." The leader of the Covenant clarified, eyes pointing towards the entrance to the Citadel.

"Yes, I do." Saps joked back, "Then hypothetically am I Prince Tithonus?" Turntapp shrugged in answer, his usual stoic demeanor seen only in the subtleties.

Saparata snickered, turning around once they reached more than half the staircase. "You know he died right before Eon, right?"

"I know that! I know that much," Turntapp sulked, grudgingly turning around in time to see the sun begin to set. "But, if you were to fall here Saparata… even if the Covenant loses its head, I will guard you."

Saps turned to him with a soft huff and pointed at the sun. "I'll always think of you, as often as the sun sets and I wish your hopes shine on the Covenant as sure as the sun rise."

Let me in your window

Say, if I only could
I'd be runnin' up that volcano
With no problems

Chapter Text

Schpood, it's me, I'm Jophiel

Oh, come on, baby (yeah)

Legate Bardun looked out over the sea of wheat before finally turning his back and mounting his horse. The task he'd been given was accomplished. ‘I hope the Emperor knows what he's doing… just as I hope these rations outlast the army.’

I've come home, I'm so cold
Let me in your window

And if I only could
I'd make a deal with Ish
And I'd get Him to swap our places

"If you think it wasn't Saparata, then why invite him here and not tell him you don't suspect him?" Spyder asked, perplexed, as he chased after Schpood. His red cloak sweeping the floor, "He'll think you invited him to kill him."

"So?"

'So?!' Spyder wanted to exclaim and ended up rubbing his face against his hands. With the tension brewing, he was trying his best to make sure Westhelm isn't caught preparing for war and thus thrust into conflict prematurely.

His Emperor on the other hand seemed to dive into it headfirst.

Spyder clenched his hands, crashing out on the inside and running through a mental list of who he could 'accidentally' rope into being a consul to handle half the work. Keeping things from imploding was harder than he thought.

"If he's truly innocent, he'll come. It'll only prove to help catch the real culprit. Besides, I'm not letting those Commonwealth bastards spit on my face just like that. We will get Arty and he will face Westhelmian justice." Schpood declared, the armed guards saluting the Emperor as he passed.

'I want to know if Arty was involved in the assassination of Pandora's leaders… with only propaganda, why take such a massive step if their fear was us attacking?'

His leather soles were soundless on the red fur carpet laid over the room. His guards close as he headed to the head of the table, the flames over the table flickering and hissing.

From the corner of his eye, Schpood watched Jophiel flit over to Saparata, fussing. He couldn't hear exactly what she said but the words, "You've gotten thinner… oh, you poor thing. I know it wasn't you. I believe you." Unfortunately only the Emperor could hear his Queen.

The sting on his hand brought him back to the present moment, a prick from the cactus earlier that day. A small dark dot on the palm of his hand, Schpood massaged the sore spot but the pain didn't subside. He decided to ignore it. Unknowingly, the day would later be one he would rue for the things that come to light.

"Saps to my knowledge, you are the person that killed all those people in Pandora."

Spyder was half-surprised at how calm Schpood was considering the night before where the groundskeeper caught the Emperor yelling in the water gardens, knee deep in the pool.

"It wasn't me."

"It wasn't him."

The Queen's voice overlapped with Saparata, like a guardian angel standing by his side. She nodded as the albino spoke, the small wings on his ears fluttering ever so slightly as he told his side of the story. Jophiel nodded at every turn and Schpood's hand twitched, wanting to call her by his side.

"The one responsible, his name is Fluixon."

Schpood nodded, 'So it is that man, but I'll deal with him for last when he has nowhere left to run.'

"For now, we have a similar cause." He explained the situation with the Commonwealth, dark eyes following Jophiel as she walked around the room. If his guests had noticed, they didn't point it out.

"Will you lend me your help, Saps? In return, I'll help clear your name."

Before Saparata left, the leader of the Covenant standing by him where Jophiel used to, he turned to Schpood and with much hesitation said, "I'm not sure about this one but, the builder you said you're looking for… I saw him on Tricolor once. He claimed to be there to suggest something about the construction of Verdant Hall. It's just, that's a strange thing for Jophiel to do."

I'm coming back love, cruel Schpood

And if I only could
I'd make a deal with Ish
And I'd get Him to swap our places

That evening, the Emperor was not found walking the halls of the Citadel, nor mooning in his room or even dazed in the pools of the water gardens. He was in the dungeons, hidden deep in Underhelm.

A man lay hung by chains, on his neck and wrists holding his limp body up. Whip lashes marred his skin, dried blood from the old ones, caking and hard and fresh and wet from recent lashings.

"He finally talked?" Asked Schpood, watching from outside the cells. The calm look in his eyes unsettled the torturer, he'd been used to the Emperor's unstable mood. "Yes, Emperor… after the loss of all fingers. Worth the price, I say."

"Well, get on with it."

"Yes, yes." The man glanced back at his work, "Senator Knight Arcturus was an informant. This man claims not to know for who but the Senator was apparently who leaked the marriage alliance with Queen Jophiel before it was confirmed and, and…"

"Speak!" Schpood's thunderous voice echoed louder in the dungeon chamber. It's moist walls ringing the admonition. The torturer didn't look up, "Senator Knight Arcturus also leaked plans about Operation Schpood."

"He won't say to who Arty leaked these plans to?"

The torturer shook his head, gulping. "No, Emperor. He claims he wasn't important enough to be told. I- I believe him, Sire."

To this Schpood raised a brow, turning his head to the man slowly. "You do? Why is that?"

Before the torturer answered he noticed the emperor's eyes following something behind him, his hand tightening on the hilt of his sword. The man answered quickly then, "After everything I've done, and what he's told there's no reason to hold back. He's lost his hands essentially, there's very little left to save."

Schpood nodded, tapping a finger on the carved eagle on his sword's handle. "I see, if that's your judgement. Continue this for two more days, cut his balls off so there's really nothing left and then feed his body to the dogs."

Alarmed at the last order, the man chased after the leaving Emperor. "Won't he fight in the Colosseum, Emperor?!"

"That scum doesn't deserve to have his blood spilt on my arena, much less the honor of dying in combat."

Every person that crossed Schpood's path immediately turned away, even Spyder who upon seeing the stormy look on the Emperor's face decided tactical retreat was the better option. Schpood went straight to the training grounds, surprising the soldiers with his arrival.

"You! Sheep! Pick up your sword and spar with me."

The Imperial guard, although bewildered he pulled his sword from it's sheath, a proper Westhelmian sword. He approached the centre of the now empty sparring ground. Fellow members of the Imperial Guard watched them and few behind were soldiers from various centuria.

To say it was a match was unfair, for Sheep. Each blow sent him back a few paces, the Emperor's bear like strength pushed him back to nothing but defense. Sheep could feel his arm about to fall off as his shield splintered and broke from Schpood's heavy strike. The fight was going on a half hour or so b ut the Emperor's sour mood didn't seem to improve at all.

The soldier fell on his back, exhausted and banged up.

"Fight back," Schpood ordered, pausing to give the man a chance to stand and Sheep003 struggled to do as commanded. "I am fighting back, Emperor. Else I'll be dead."

'You're the one not playing fair.' But he had the wit not to say as he thought.

"Then fight harder."

'Must be hell of a bad news from down there then, but why is he pouring his frustrations out on me? General Skipolo help!'

The one sided battle continued a few more minutes before Sheep, despite the shame, conceded. Looking up, he regretted he did. Schpood did not look pleased. His rage was written all over his face, he swung his sword embedding it deep into one of the wooden dummies and stomped off.

Skipolo offered his hand to the fallen Sheep, hands clasped as he pulled the other to his feet. "What happened?" He asked, handing the other some water. Spitting blood Sheep shrugged. "Not sure, he didn't let me hear. But we came from the dungeons."

I'm coming back love, cruel Schpood

And if I only could
I'd make a deal with Ish
And I'd get Him to swap our places

Schpood went to his chambers, trying to calm himself and grasp for Jophiel who was not by his side as she always was. He could feel the rage boiling under his skin, not to anyone but himself.

'I'm grateful, I suppose that she isn't here.'

Another of the Emperor's fits ensued in his chambers, the servants waiting by the door flinching at the sounds but after the last incident that the Emperor had burned his hands, they could not leave him unattended.

The state of the room unsightly, but they could not enter without express permission. The older maid felt a presence behind her and was thankful to find the consul Spyder. To who many looked to when the Emperor seemed to be out of it.

The consul nodded and ushered them away, slipping a gold coin or two for their silence. When he entered, he half expected to see the Emperor in shambles and he was but also strangely, awake. Sober.

The consul stepped closer, cautiously, towards Schpood who looked like an animal on the verge of attack. He was muttering words Spyder struggled to hear, not until he was close enough. Close enough to see red eyes, full and blown, and a clarity in them.

“I killed her. I had her killed. It's my fault.”

“Emperor? Schpood?”

Spyder carefully reached out his hand to tap Schpood's shoulder and upon doing so, the Emperor inhaled a sharp breath and snapped to look at him. He took quick, shallow breaths as if to catch them.

“I have no one to blame but myself.”

‘What is he talking about?’

“Any leader in their right mind when finding out about my Operation would rightfully assume an attack.” Schpood grabbed Spyder and shook him, his fingers digging deep and painfully through the consul's court attire.

“I gave them reason, I might as well have struck her down myself.”

And Spyder, who had seen many strange things the Emperor do and even stranger after the Queen passed, did not know how to comfort him now. He could only pull the Emperor to his feet and let him use his strength to keep himself upright. Arms clasped firmly around the man who was a father to him. Spyder did not know, but he grounded the Emperor on the brink of crumbling.

“My greed sickens me, I am being punished for it.”

‘Was it greed when it was for the good of the people?’

I'm coming back love, cruel Schpood

And if I only could
I'd make a deal with Ish
And I'd get Him to swap our places

At the same time, on the other end of the world, Fluixon paced the length of his bunkers. Pandora bordered on suspense. From whispers he knew many had taken kindly to the visitors from Yggdrasil and, although the immediate attack he expected had not yet arrived it didn't mean it wouldn't.

‘Was it the right call? Did I slaughter over half leadership for nothing? No, no. It can't be. They're scouting us. Of course! Can't go to war without understanding your enemy. We must be prepared. I must protect Pandora from those who would plunder it.’

Thomas slammed the bunker room door shut, shaking his head from out his helmet. A suffocating thing that bound his somewhat unruly curls.

“The propaganda against Queen Jophiel, Flux, I think it could backfire on us. Is it wise to double down?”

Fluixon turned to him, slightly appalled and surprised that it was Thomas, among his co-conspirators who would raise such a question.

“I take it your reconnaissance didn't go as planned?”

“It did,” Thomas answered begrudgingly, taking a seat across the table. The wooden chair creaking under the weight of him and his chain mail armour. “But, even among all the dead leaders, people still mourn Queen Jophiel most. They still speak kindly of her.”

He didn't finish but he knew Fluixon understood, ‘Despite how they slandered her name shortly after her death to sway the opinion of the people. After all, first impressions lasts longer.’

Thomas sighed, recalling how Fluixon screamed, “Damage control!!” At the notification of the botched assassination. Naming the Queen a traitor to Pandora, selling her crown and kingdom to foreign brutes, worked for a while.

A rallying point to accept the Yggdrasillians as the late Queen would have wanted was quelled, a sentiment of that momentum fueled by Jophiel's death would've been disastrous to their cause.

“It was a good distraction, but if we keep pushing the masses will sense something is wrong.” Fluixon muttered, nodding. “Fine, it did it’s job as a distraction anyway. But we can't push our luck when Jophiel still has a grip on the people.”

Clocking his tongue, Fluixon turned away from Thomas. Eyes staring intently at copies of an invasion plan put away in a chest. “It was reasonable to be wary of Trihelm, right? If that arrangement had gone through, it would've been Westhelm's first step of invasion.”

“Yes… you were right.”

Schpood, it's me, I'm Jophiel

Oh, come on, angel

As Cass of the Coalition took one of her daily strolls she saw a house covered in ivy. It climbed the the chimney and invaded the windows. An abandoned house it seemed.

For a while she stared at the house before continuing. Unrest abounded and while her own citizens seemed to be at peace, she knew that whatever happened to the world outside of the Coalition it would drag them along.

She turned to the sea, watching the sun set. The statue of Tricolor can be seen all the way, a gargantuan symbol of Pandora's biggest nation. Cass gave a small nod, to the sky, to the Queen who she had no doubt was watching over them all.

‘Jophiel had always been like that… and now we must go without her forbearance and guidance.’

The President braced for the gust of wind that passed her and again for the storm to come, brewing on the horizon.

“Cass! Cass, you need to see something.”

Schpood, it's me, I'm Jophiel
I've come home, I'm so cold

“Out of all the things we could fear we choose love.” Dhaedrys turned to her with a smile, of it could be called a smile Cynikka could never tell. A quirk of the lips, upturned but flat. As if she was trying to smile but was not allowed.

The flame danced behind her, a fierce and burning force. The Queen approached the Priestess, lighting the candle she held from the one lit in her hands. The lava flowed underneath and around the innermost sanctum of Dante's hall.

“Are you afraid? Of love, I mean.”

“I'm afraid of you.”

With a shuddered breath, Queen Cynikka snapped from her memories. A piece of parchment in her hand, so close to the candles flame she as surprised it didn't catch on fire. It was a letter, one she had not expected to receive.

Dear sister,

I've run into some trouble. I might come to see you soon, keep Infernus's doors open for me.

Signed,

Flux.

“That brat.” Cynikka muttered as she burned the paper, watching it crumble to ash. Clicking her tongue, she summoned SirEzran.

“Has she returned?”

The heir to the throne of the Phoenix looked confused for a brief moment before answering, “No, we've no word from the Priestess either.”

“Then, news from the outside world?”

‘I have to know what in the world my brother is doing.’

“Well, other than Westhelm has apparently caught the terrorist Saparata there's no news yet. Oh, but they did send an invitation about a meeting. Are you going, Your Majesty?”

Cynikka nodded before sending him away. “Westhelm, huh… Tell them I will, if the meeting place is secure. No roofs.”

In the Empire, the Emperor hadn't been seen for a day. Only the consul and the grand vizier knew where he was and with the grand vizier leaving once more, Spyder was left holding the bag.

But even Spyder had no answers to give them. He couldn't even speak of the last coherent conversation with Emperor Schpood.

“All is well, everyone. Do not fret. Our Emperor simply needs time to recover from his endless work. All is fine, go back to your work.” He hoped his smile and the way he told them would be enough to comfort them.

The last time he'd seen Schpood, the man was talking to the window. “I'm scared of love and I was right to be. We tried and we failed. We'll I refuse to accept that.”

Spyder thought to himself, perhaps the Queen's love was the cruelest type of love.

My one dream, my only lover

Be runnin' up that road
Be runnin' up that volcano
Be runnin' up that Ashen Bastion (yo)

A meeting of Yggdrasil's leaders was called, the same time Westhelm's Emperor surfaced again. Skipolo breathed a sigh of relief, nudging Spyder as if to say ‘Well done.’ But Spyder only shrugged it off.

“I didn't do anything. The Queen's ghost, mayhaps?”

“Psh, nonsense. Maybe the Emperor just got over it. Moved on, I mean. He can't grieve the Queen forever.”

“From your lips to Legatus's ears my friend.”

The field of pure white snow stretched endlessly as their leaders stood together. Other guards stood by, watching each other, measuring up.

Saparata looked as if he'd risen from the winter, white robes cloaked him, long silver hair reminiscent of Queen Jophiel's tied back. He told his story to the leaders of Yggdrasil and although it seemed more probable than the other theory, it was difficult to prove.

His word against the Vice Commander of Luminara. Against the evidence, against a trial. But Schpood, who was devastated by his fiancée's death, vouched for him. It carried a weight in the opinions of the other leaders.

The Emperor took a convincing stance, urging his fellow leaders to work against the Covenant. Skipolo nodded with every word.

‘Now, this is our Emperor.’

Surprisingly, Turntapp too spoke after sharing a brief look with Saps whose nod was barely noticeable. He told them of the trade made between him and Flux and what Legacy had told them as well.

Little by little the pieces were coming together.

“I believe Saps.”

Spyder thought an agreement would he struck after the leader of the Covenant spoke his peace but, as half-expected, the Archon of Elysium was hesitant.

And the meeting ended half finished. The Consul and the Commander dutiful followed their Emperor on the way back to Westhelm. They exchanged glances on who would speak, Schpood was furious and, slowly growing inpatient.

“I want Arty dead, do you hear me? By my own hand, I will take his head. If Elysium dawdles any further…” Schpood's command was left hanging, his gaze looking to the left of him before he shook his head and dismissed them.

“Wait, Spyder.”

“Yes..?”

“Are the scouts back?”

The Emperor scared Spyder these days, he didn't act any differently only more intensely. The once draft of a plan for conquest became clearer and clearer as the Emperor toiled. It was clear, the biggest reason he had thrown it away was gone so the only path was to continue.

“Yes, Emperor. Shall I gather them for you?”

With a nod, Schpood left Spyder to do as he was told. In the meantime, he headed to Legatus Exul's temple. Even though Westhelm's founding was deeply rooted in the god, now, very few of his children came to see him.

As Schpood rose from each step, clear voices echoed, louder in the hollow temple. “I mean, maybe it's different for royalty but come on.. it's just ridiculous. The Emperor can take another wife. He's the Emperor for Exul's sake! Surely, he can forget that foreign queen.”

“Hush! Are you crazy?! That can get you killed.”

“It's true though, ain't it? Was that Queen so good he can't find another? Ah! Now I think about it, maybe she was good in bed and the Emperor liked it. Certainly difficult to replace.”

“Now that's too far.”

“What's too far is our Emperor becoming crazy over one woman! It's one woman! He can go fuck the grief out with some whore and be done with it! They say he doesn't sleep, he even talks to himself. Madness I tell you.”

“Maybe he did love her. Truly.”

“It's a political arrangement, bah! She might have wanted him to be Empress. See? She would've gone from just another Queen to the only Empress. Impressive woman if you think about it. The Emperor is in his prime, he's powerful and handsome. That Queen struck gold-”

It was too late for the man's companion to scream. Blood gurgled from his mouth, bubbling from his mouth with the Emperor's blade sticking through his throat. The companion screamed, a shrill blood-curdling one filled with terror, as Emperor Schpood pulled his sword back.

It grit against the bone and muscle, skin torn and gushing with blood. With a single swing, his head rolled to the marble floors of the temple, staining it deep crimson.

The surviving mad fled from the temple, tripping and rolling down the stairs. The gash on his head was of little consequence as he got away from Emperor's frenzy.

‘Those eyes! Those eyes! The Emperor is possessed by an evil spirit!’

Schpood breathed out, a slow liberating breath. He wiped the warm blood that splashed across his cheek, dripping down his dry, cracked lips. With a grunt and a protesting back, he bent down to pick up the head and dragged the body to the altar in all it's grisly glory.

He tossed the head to the table full of offerings, the mans tongue lolling out. Eyes blank and devoid of life in a strangely warm way. Glazed and gone.

Schpood laid the body out beneath the table, beside the wood and other heavier offerings. All this time, without a word and comfortable in what he did. Blood pooled from the neck onto the Emperor's leather shoes, sticky, filling the air of the smell of copper.

“Hey, Legatus. Look at my offering. Now grant my prayer, or I'll burn your temple down.” He prayed, or vowed to the god whose statue looked down on him and his offering. The blocks upon his feet soaked up the fresh offering, turning it a beautiful deep pink gradient.

He looked terrible, in a grandiose way. Smeared with blood, eyes hungry for more but lips frowning. Hands shaking.

“I made a mistake… and I will correct it.”

He turned from the altar, letting go of his blade. The clanging metal disturbed the temple as the sound reverberated in every corner. Hands stretched to his side, he descended the stairs to where Jophiel was.

Standing there, watching him. She looked more lively now than before. Some color on her cheeks, eyes a richer blue like the sky, albeit the Yggdrasillian blue of the sky and not her paradise.

“My Jophiel..”

Schpood placed his bloody hands to cradle her face, soft and gentle. He smiled, barely. “I will make it up to you, hmm?”

“Will you?” Her voice was heavier, tired.

“Yes, yes.. Just wait and see. Everything will go the way it was supposed to.”

Too long I roam in the night

Say, if I only could, oh

As he stepped out of the temple, the scouts arrived. They knelt on one knee, greeting their Emperor. The deep gold of the sun shining over him impressed upon them, This is how an Emperor should look.

Each reported on their mission, a simple thing, a mad order. To find from any corner of the world a knowledge that could bring the dead to life or to right has been wronged.

Only time and death had dominion over the Emperor's wish.

As the last scout finished his report, Schpood shook his head. The blood drying on his face, cracked on his hands. “Of all the nations, not a single one?”

“Well, wives tales Emperor.. there are many but what you ask, there simply doesn't seem to be a way.” The scout was able to stop in time, seeing the tightness in the way the Emperor clenched his jaw.

“I see.. try the smaller nations. And try Elysium again. Where there's smoke there's fire.”

‘There's certain forms of magic outside Westhelm and my family. The priestess's spell proved that. The old records that suggest the power of the gods. If not them, something. If I have to drag Ish himself into my pursuit, so be it.’

I'm coming home to Tricolor, Westhelm
Trihelm

It's you and me
Won't be unhappy (yeah, yeah, yo)

The glistening of gold caught his eye, just beneath the temple on the stone made path was the Queen. Laid asleep on the first stone bench that came to pass.

Her pale pink dress of smooth silk fluttered softly with the gentle wind. Head resting on the end closest to the temple, her feet raised, folded on the stone bench one foot sticking out. Her red heel hanging precariously.

Chuckling Schpood walked over and removed the slipper, doing the same for the other as he sat on the ground back rested against the bench. Turning his head towards her, towards the temple and the setting sun, he'd forgotten how ethereal she looked.

A light about her soft features, sculpted by the gods themselves and was supposed to be his to gaze upon until old age. Lips pink as blossoms, thin and usually with a smile. Jophiel's long blonde hair of honey gold pooled by the stone. Like wheat, of sustenance that kept many in Yggdrasil alive.

In more ways than one, Schpood thought, she was a beacon everywhere she went. Snuffed out before her time. He reached out to brush her hair, stopping upon seeing the blood on his hands.

“Tsk,” quietly as he could, Schpood reached for his flask of precious water and rinsed his hands. Wiping clean and dry on his cloak, he observed his hands for a while. Calloused, scarred.

In the end, he contented himself with only gazing at her.

The guilt crept in once again and he found he couldn't sully her. No matter how many times Schpood spent his anger, to one directed to himself couldn't be exhausted. Seeing her now, at peace made it less bearable, as if the twilight had gifted him a brief time in the veil of the underworld with her.

“Forgive me, Jophiel…”

Tilting his head, Schpood noticed four small wings piled up behind her ears as if in slumber too. “Hmm?”

‘Did she always have that?’

Before he had any time to wonder, Jophiel's eyes opened staring directly at him. A clear blue, that had a ‘zing’ of a glow. They were beautiful, intent and a touch inhuman. There he wondered how much of her from his memory had begun to fade.

“You're awake.”

“I wasn't asleep, Schpood. Just closing my eyes.”

He chuckled, nodding, “Fine, if you say so.” The Emperor moved to help her sit up, but she pushed his hand away and soon they were seated side by side watching pink blossoms fall with every huff of the jealous wind.

“Schpood-”

“No, I will do as I said.”

She didn't look at him, rather refused and Schpood had to swallow that fact. Like lava down his throat. After a long while of silence, as the sun's light drowned in the darkness of the coming night, Jophiel spoke to him.

“I'll forgive you if you go through with it.”

Trembling, Schpood's grip on the arm of the bench would've cracked it had it not been made of stone. “No,” He answered resolutely. “You may despise me if you will, I burned those plans and you still died. I will do it.”

He rose and stood before her, making sure her eyes were on him even if she refused. “You were the closest I had to peace and if I can't have it none will.”

Jophiel looked hurt instead, shaking her head out of his hold. She tried once more to reason with him. “Please. Prove I'm right, if I beg crying will your heart be moved?” And when Schpood didn't respond, the Queen uttered shakily, “I can't convince you, can I?”

The Emperor didn't speak but his answer was in his silence. Once again he found himself on one knee. Whether to propose or beg forgiveness, he knelt the same.

“Fine then..” Jophiel answered defeated, a fat tear falling from her eye and running down her cheek. Saltwater washed what was left of the bloodstains on Schpood's hand. “You know, Schpood… Just because I oppose you in this doesn't mean I love you any less.”

“I know..” Schpood's answer came as a breathed out whisper, a warm huff. He removed his cloak and draped it around her shoulder's unsure if the sudden cold of the night bothered her. ‘The nights in Pandora felt much warmer.’

“Thank you.”

Schpood was startled when Jophiel laid her head on his lap, right after he sat beside her. She looked at him with eyes that had he not known her would look like pity, but to him it seemed regret. Shining blue drinking in his features the way he did to hers, thumb brushing her cheek and savoring what little left of the twilight.

“I don't think I ever imagined myself like this, Schpood. Laying down in foreign sacred ground… I don't belong in this world. You understand this right?”

The man nodded, heart heavy. He knew. He knew.

“I like to believe I lived, and I'm worth all your grief. Why not? To be loved by you was the most beautiful experience of love I've ever had. Schpood, mourn me but after, live.”

“We make each other alive. Does it matter if it hurts?”

I've come home, I'm so cold

Oh, come on, darlin' (yo)
Let me steal this moment from you now

In the end, Emperor Schpood was left with nothing but endless raging sorrow.

After pacing his throne room, mulling things over he sent a group to recover the former senator and now traitor Knight Arcturus. He watched his soldiers arm themselves and declaring, “Glory to Westhelm!” As they set off.

As it got deeper into the night, Schpood was left with himself and a flask of alcohol. A finger tapping against the metal flask caught his attention, Jophiel was beside him. Always, as she had promised.

‘It seems the more I advance my plans, the more Jophiel is able to interact with this world. Maybe she hasn't noticed it herself. But that also means, I'm closer to my goal than ever before.’

She tried to grab the flask but it slipped through her hands, Schpood had to stifle his laughter at her attempt and took a swig. As he did the flask was abruptly pushed, the top pushing past his lips and colliding with his teeth. He sputtered out the whiskey, coughing.

“Sorry! I'm sorry Schpood, I didn't think I'd be able to touch it that time.”

But he couldn't be mad at her, not with the coy smile barely hidden on her face.

“It's a sign you should probably stop drinking.”

I'm coming back to his side to put it right

You (yeah, yeah, yo)
It's you and me

The DAILY BREAK

Opinion

The Editorial Board

November XX, XXXX

A Sign of Doom; Queen Jophiel's Death

The land forsaken by the gods, is what people often regard Yggdrasil. Still, various civilizations flourished here and from our interviews with them Yggdrasillians cherish this barren land. Yet why is it that the death of a foreign Queen affects us so much? Who is this foreign Queen?

For those who weren't aware, months ago a highly ambitious alliance to unite the rich Pandora and rugged Yggdrasil was agreed. This would be through one of the most secure political alliances, a marriage. The representative of Yggdrasil, the groom, Emperor Schpood I Pendaris of House Caesar of Westhelm and representative of Pandora, the bride, Queen Jophiel of House Theria of Tricolor.

This marriage secured a trade route for the two islands and most importantly, a nonaggression pact. What better to make the deal than the largest and most influential nations of Yggdrasil and Pandora? Unfortunately the engagement was cancelled by the Queen's untimely death which all of Pandora grieve, and so must we. Five other leaders of Pandora, all who are notably pro-peace between islands were assassinated only days after, in an emergency meeting brought about by Queen Jophiel's assassination.

As a common Yggdrasillian, one might wonder how this affects us, when one would assume only Westhelm affected. Wrong. While the promised resources did arrive, the sureness of continuous trade is now gone. With leaders dying like flies, every nation is on edge. Tensions are rising. Fugitives from each island hiding in the other. The hopeful nonaggression pact has been thrown out the window.

Citizens of larger nations may have the privilege of security, but the smaller groups are not so lucky. As of now, the Blue Cross has dissolved, Pandora on the other hand has no alliance either. What has the world come to, you may ask. Was Jophiel's death an omen? Is the chaos that follows a sign from the gods? Regardless of the gods, it is true that the Queen's demise came the death of stability, unity and peace.

Perhaps it's too late to think of what could've beens. Rather, what now? There are multiple accounts to who is truly responsible for Pandora's largest political mass assassination. We strongly urge all nations to determine the truth and punish who is responsible.

I'm coming home to Tricolor, Westhelm
Trihelm

It's you and me
Won't be unhappy (yeah, yeah, yo)

“Schpood? Schpoop? Hello?” Jophiel threw her hands up in the air, plopping on the pink couch that. had once been in Verdant Hall's library but is now in the Emperor's study. If he'd stolen it she forgot.

“I said I'm sorry. Now, you're just being petty.”

Jophiel huffed, suddenly the inkwell caught her eye. “Hmm.” With a careful focus, she brought her hand around it and will multiple tries, the small porcelain went flying. It spilled all over his documents, scraps she made sure and tumbled across the table before falling and breaking.

It was then that Schpood turned to her, but instead of an annoyed expression he had a silly smile on his face as if he'd won a battle she wasn't aware of.

“You're slacking, Schpood.” Jophiel gasped when she realized he was only baiting her and hadn't been doing anything of importance at all. Schpood shrugged, stuffing cloth over the ink and watching the dark colour seep through the fabric. Whether it was her silence or other, he enjoyed it n nonetheless. No matter that everything seemed the way it was when she was alive, he knew in the back of his mind that it was different.

‘But how could I wish differently? I missed these days.’

“Nonsense. You're my duty.”

Schpood, it's me, I'm Jophiel

Oh, come on, baby (yeah)

The morning greeted the Emperor with a news that soured his day, his ‘request' of an alliance between the four major nations of Yggdrasil did not come to fruition.

‘So, I must do this the original way then.’

He summoned Spyder, Skipolo and Bardun. He had instructed the first two to redraft operation Schpood, but until then very little action had been done other than preparation. Schpood glanced at Jophiel, who nodded albeit the smile on her face seemed melancholic.

The map of Yggdrasil had been carved upon the wooden table. The scent of varnish faint yet sharp in the air. The thickened pads of Schpood's fingers traced the mountains, plains and castles of the island.

“We can not take all these countries in a straightforward invasion,” It was a fact he realised way before, “But with the Tricolor forces, it may be possible now.”

The preparation for Operation Schpood began in earnest.

Schpood, it's me, I'm Jophiel

Oh, come on, baby (yeah)

The day left the Emperor weary, ‘I'll go down in history a madman, a tyrant or a conqueror. Would Jophiel's name be immortalized alongside mine? That I'll have to make sure.’

For he was devoted to her like a sunflower worships the sun.

Schpood turned on his side, the mattress shifting like desert sand. He'd had his hard bed replaced to a soft, fluffy one for her long before. A small smile graced his lips, stinging with the pricking ache of it's peeling layer. She lay beside him, eyes closed even if she didn't need sleep. She humored him nonetheless.

They slept side by side, warm in the chill of Yggdrasil night, just as they should've. It was exactly as he pictured their nights to be. Comfortable, safe. Restful. Schpood fell asleep with her golden tresses held between his fingers.

In the deep of the night, by the witching hour the Queen moved. She pulled her hair from his grip, some slipping past translucently, part not. Jophiel didn't need to worry about her footsteps as she walked across the floor towards Schpood's table.

A silver knife glinting in the moonlight called out to her, filling Jophiel with anxiety and turmoil. Her hand shook as she grasped at the blade. Once, twice and the third time worked like a charm. Jophiel raised the silver blade up to her eyes. She couldn't feel the solid of the golden handle, but it was heavy nonetheless.

‘The goal was always peace, us falling in love was a lucky bonus. Don't lose sight of the goal.’ Jophiel told herself over and over and over, until the words mixed and couldn't be told apart. Slowly she walked towards her lover, her dead hands feeling colder than death.

It wasn't fear that paralyzed her, but a hesitance borne from love.

‘But I can't stop him… this is the only way.’

The Queen climbed the bed carefully, the blade held firm in her hand. She felt breathless. Jophiel gently moved the blanket away from him. Carefully, she pushed him to lay on his back. Schpood's snoring only got louder, unbothered.

She found herself kneeling, a similar way he did begging at the altar, one knee on either side of him. The difference, she held a knife to his throat.

“Forgive me, my love.”

I'm coming home to Tricolor, Westhelm
Trihelm

It's you and me
Won't be unhappy (yeah, yeah, yo)

Chapter Text

Schpood, it's me, I'm Jophiel
I've come home, I'm so cold

Jophiel's tears were a translucent kiss of blue, dripping like snowflakes on Schpood's cheeks. The knife trembled, nicking his skin. A drop of his blood, red as the ruby she would've worn the day she confessed her love, bloomed.

He looked so gentle, asleep. Without the rage nor the grief. Nor the suffering she seemed to have caused him. Hours ago she was beside him, in a bed softer than she thought he slept in. Now, her grip trembled, the knife shaking just barely.

“I must do this, at all costs. At any cost.”

Queen Jophiel had faced no bigger challenge or torment.

She begged and cried and tried to reason with him. ‘I thought if I pleaded, when he sees my tears, he would listen. In the end I made the wrong bet, if he didn't love me this could've been avoided. If only I didn't love him.’

There was an ache ib her hollow chest, throbbing and a sucking kind like a wound.

Queen Jophiel even tried to warn the new King Gabory but to no avail, Emperor Schpood put him in a position he couldn't refuse. Jophiel wanted to stab herself for hesitating, telling herself there would be no other chance. Any later would be too late. ‘I know this… I know, I know. I wish I'd gone when death asked me to.’

Jophiel tried to steady her shaking hand, “Oh, Schpood… I love you… but I love Tricolor and Westhelm too.”

Just as she was to plunge the blade through his pulsing jugular, Schpood's eyes snapped open. The rich dark brown like fertile Pandoran soil with the touch of bright amber. It startled Jophiel but the blade remained unmoved.

‘Strange.’

Schpood only stared at her, into her eyes. The Queen was frozen, if she'd been alive her heart would've jumped out of her chest, right up her throat. Then Schpood's lips, cracked and dry, opened, his voice barely a whisper but firm nonetheless.

“Do it so I may be with you.”

Jophiel's heart trembled at his challenge and her resolve faltered once more. She clasped the handle tighter, feeling a coldness spread over her soul. Her throat felt tight, closing. Lungs squeezed, it was terror Jophiel.

The Queen drew the blade back and thrust it down.

In that moment of resolve, Jophiel's hold on the blade vanished. The golden handle slipped past her ghostly fingers. ‘No.’ The silver blade fell on the pillow, bouncing and sliding down the silk with only the tip dipped in blood. Schpood was unharmed, it was nothing but a scratch.

But both came to a realization at the same time.

Jophiel truly intended to kill Schpood.

Schpood hastily rose from bed, feet tangled in the sheets that fell to the floor that seeped it's cold up his bare feet. Breathing heavily, his hand raised as if to block the blade she no longer wielded, and Jophiel, horrified, staggered out of bed. She had but one regret, her hesitation.

And Schpood realized what the look of regret was for, a sick feeling bloomed in his chest making his hands tremble. All of a sudden, he could feel how cool the sweat on his back was. It soaked through his cotton shirt, but the chill from the inside was different.

“Jophiel-” “Schpood-”

His bed separated then, as the ocean once had, as the border. Only the distance could be solved by a few paces, a few too far than ever. He could see her trembling, she could see his broken expression.

“You've called your legions..” She uttered, a harsh whisper as if she herself refused to acknowledge it. “Yes, as you already know. As is my authority as Emperor.”

“Your authority as Emperor,” Jophiel repeated, a half scoff that cut like an arrow. “Now you believe it your right.” The Queen advanced, the air shifting with a heavy feel in the air. “What order did you give, Schpood? What?! That a country lies fractured, and you are accused of doing it?” The Queen spread, the banners of the black sun marching into the palace yard.

The Emperor finally moved, stepping back before slowly drawing to the side, eyes on her. Dark and fierce, like an oncoming tornado. Queen Jophiel stepped opposite his way, like dragons circling each other. For the first time, between their arguments, it was a clash of authority, he wondered if she'd lived, would they have clashed the same way?

“I simply took advantage of an opportunity, I told you my intentions clear as day. To have the realm in the palm of my hand, to avenge you.”

Jophiel nodded, unwillingly, the knife she dropped glinting under the moonlight that teased it's shine from the window. Seeing her reflection, or so she imagined, was the Tricolor crown upon her head. Crafted of silver, embedded with ruby, sapphire and emerald. She swallowed a harsh she'd forgotten, or denied.

They are monarchs first, lovers second. And, the foundation of their relationship was a political arrangement.

“Besides, it's not my fault their leadership was scattered. Nevermore was easy to take, there was no blood spilled.”

“Not your fault?” Jophiel once again repeated weakly, said like a sigh of disbelief. He understood the source of her anger her beliefs and stance against war, he'd been trying to make her understand his cause for anger.

“Unless you were provoked, it shouldn't have been done.”

“You are the provocation!”

Schpood shook his head, the rough feel of his hand pressing against the nick of the knife. It had stopped bleeding. His eyes were drawn to the knife he woke to her holding, then he heard her respond, “If I am truly what provoked you, then it is senseless! I am replaceable, I already am replaced-”

“Is that why you tried to do it?”

But deep down, Schpood knew it wasn't the reason why. Scoffing, he turned away from her, stepping three paces. The stinging on his neck began to bother him incessantly, but he kept his back to her. Open and vulnerable.

“The Queen is replaceable, my Jophiel is not.” He added, stopping when he reached his desk. As he waited for her, whatever she decided to do, he lit a candle. ‘I know you are sympathetic to the people's fear, but I am to their grief and anger and desire for justice.’

The stab in the back never came. But Jophiel's answer did.

“You said it was your aim to take the heads of all those responsible, but you can't put your hand on them for certain. So you decide anyone else will do? Just to satiate your thirst for vengeance?”

“No.”

She scoffed, for some reason, Schpood saw the brief flash of derision fro, her eyes. The bright, almost burning blue piercing him across the room. “I think,” Jophiel began, stepping to the bed, “you have a different version of me in your head. You accepted me and Tricolor as one and the same. The resources of Pandora as my gift.”

Schpood, leaning against his desk watched her like a hawk, if she were to reach for the wretched blade. He picked at the scab on his neck as she continued to speak, both avoiding the tip of the blade. “You have wounded me.” He interrupted, “My love, do you wish to strike me again? Sure, this time.”

The ghost didn't answer him.

She brushed her hair through her fingers, the four, wings that he now remembered to be adorable drooped low and lifeless. She looked out at the moon, full, bright and haunting.

“Fine, I will speak,” said the Emperor. “You have weakened me. You…"

“Yes, I.”

For the first time, Schpood saw her, terrifying. Dead and decaying.

“Jophiel.”

“You must accept that I am dead, otherwise…” She turned to him, skin grey like volcanic ash, eyes dull like a doll, “We will never be able to fix things.”

They were drowning in grief and stress and fear, because Jophiel made a mistake that cost them both. Both crowns fractured. He stood, shakily, index finger stained with blood under his nail. The blood, he thought, was something she lacked. She didn't bleed even with the gash across her chest.

“Fix what? There's nothing to fix. Aside from what you are now.” Schpood's voice dipped a scratchy low, unlike the usual. He pushed himself from the table. Jophiel's head tilted left, shaking slowly. “You can't fix this.”

Schpood looked around, it was his room. Certainly. His territory but he felt like he was the one intruding on her. Jophiel floating, free, untethered. Like she didn't belong there but she took up space.

“You were right, it's time to cross the bridge.” She sighed, leaning against the headboard, her hand pressed against the pillow. The blade's handle just a reach away. Schpood now stood by the foot of his bed, hand holding onto the carved eagle on the bed frame to keep himself upright.

“You and I are different, from the start.” She began, eyes glancing at him. She looked more translucent under the moon, as if to disappear at any given moment. Much as he wanted to go to her, Schpood kept his distance. As if the blade deterred him.

“I hear whispers, here and there. I am under scrutiny, I who is dead. How funny,”

If it had been a few hours before, he would've asked her who would dare say such things, who from his people or hers. Or anyone. Now, Schpood did not.

“My reign, I mean. I've always tried to rule as best I can. Fairly and kindly… some even say virtuously. But you,” She smiled, a crooked, faintly mocking one, “You. Rash, unstable and unpredictable. People aren't surprised you wish to put both islands to the torch. For me.” Her smile curled to a full sneer. It clashed against her soft features.

“Strangely, I was never afforded the freedom of mistakes. Meanwhile you take this freedom for granted.” She pushed herself up and away from the bed, the carved wood that connected them left her touch.

“They're condemning me, or will, anyway. For your actions to come. You have made me your banner, the Traitor Queen. So consumed by..” Her hands flailed in the air as she gestured she didn't have the words, “power, love, or lust.. or something. I don't have a problem with it, not really. It's propaganda from the Conspirators, but there are those who believe it. They're doing so for you, because I am your reason, even when I'm dead. I'm not free of you.

Is this how you want me remembered?”

“By the time I'm done, no.”

Jophiel only laughed at that. She grabbed the iron grill of the window, left open again by some careless, forgetful servant. The Queen looked like a young lady again, draped by the window with the moon behind her. The soft pastels of her long dress dragged by the floor, folding gracefully. It's embroidery of pink flowers tumbling by the hem like real scattered flowers.

For some reason, despite the beauty, she somehow resembled being hanged.

“You don't trust me?”

Jophiel let go of the grills and fell to the floor, the fabric of her dress fluttering unnaturally. She turned to him with a puzzled look, with a touch of torment. He watched her chew on her lower lip before she answered, resolutely, “Not anymore. I can't trust you, Schpood. I tried, I did once. Completely, now, try as I might… I no longer can.”

Queen Jophiel rose, from a helpless flower in a pile of petals on the floor to a blooming thorned rose. “But now I see, you only listen to yourself. When I was alive, I believed I could, fix- no, that's not the word. Help. I thought I could help you. I took it as a challenge, but alas, I failed.”

She looked angry, the thought crossed his mind.

“You…” Her lips pressed tight as she took a step closer to him. “Trying desperately to grasp at our stolen future, without a care for destroying what memory we had, or have left. Schpood, your going against my wishes and should I be alive, you might've done it as well. You love power and glory more, I fear.”

This infuriated Schpood, but he did not approach her. The wound stung, and throbbed. A measly scratch aching as if it were some great wound. “That's a lie and you know it Jophiel!”

“Do I?”

She met his eyes, the amber in it visible from the moon's wretched glow, hers a ringing blue just like moon behind her. “Tell me, if I weren't Queen of Tricolour… could I have been your Empress?”

“Yes!” Schpood answered without hesitation.

“Lies.”

Whispered so sweetly, and certainly. She was but three steps from him.

“I would've been useless to you.”

He bit back his answer, “You're useless to me now.”

Amidst the love between them, they never got to the point where they discuss how they share power. Trihelm would've been the single most greatest power in the realm but he and Jophiel are both monarch's in their own right, both independent.

They never got the chance to pool and share their power and the first time they do, they clash. He was tempted to laugh at the irony, but seeing the cold, stony expression his bride had, he stopped himself.

No matter how much they pretended otherwise, Jophiel and Schpood knew they would have disagreed on some things. Others they would've been great. Jophiel suddenly remembered the fighting pits and thought, ‘Should I have called it off then? Or did I start tolerating it then?’

It was the moment both decided they couldn't get past their differences unless it's laid bare and out in the open. This is the moment they address what could've been.

“If you were alive I would've been the one to concede but since you are not you have no choice but to concede.”

“There's no difference to my wishes dead or alive,” Jophiel declared, as she had when they argued before. During the arguments where she begged. “So I don't believe you would've acquiesced.” She was only a step away now, he could see the veins, dark and protruding like poison ivy over her. From her neck to her face, down to her ankles.

“It makes me wonder, if you feel had we gone through that marriage that I would've been displacing you from power… wait, I guess I have my answer. Did you not say I weakened you? Your authority?”

Schpood closed his eyes, breathing out as a shudder washed over him. ‘Yes.. In our arrangement, Tricolor did hold more power over Westhelm since we bring only military to the table but Tricolor would fund and feed that army. They hold the wealth and therefore the direction. Of course, bearing we do not wield our blades against them. Still, in peace, I would've been her consort not the other way around.’

“It did cross my mind, yes.” Schpood admitted, half collapsing against the wooden bed frame and slowly finding himself slumped on the edge of his bed. “But I always thought we would be more of a power couple than anything else.” The Emperor continued with a weak chuckle. “But only that, the rest you're wrong. I wouldn't have minded you having more power than I and Operation Schpood would never have happened.”

He looked up to see her standing before him, he was looking up.

When their arrangement began, they were in a similar position. Monarchs doing what's best for their countries. Even afterwards in love, he believed they loved each other equally but now Schpood thought, ‘I am below her.’ Unbeknownst to her, Schpood had been competing with Tricolor for her affection. He could hear her saying he need not compete against it, her love for him was different.

‘But I love you more than Westhelm, is that the difference?’

“I loved- love you sincerely, Jophiel.”

“Do you?”

The Queen stepped closer, hanging over him. Her pale blonde hair covering him from the moon like a flimsy curtain. There was cold feel to her face, and a plainness he was unaccustomed of his wealthy Queen.

“Or have you used me, to validate your blood lust? Your thirst for power?”

Jophiel fell to her knees, bony hands placed on his knees. She needed the trust she put in him to be backed by actions and trust that she had equal say in their relationship as he promised to give her. ‘If I don't have any power here, in our bedchamber, what hope do I have of an opinion in court?’

The couple thought themselves soulmates, connected biblically, umbilically. Twin flames, halves of a whole. Flesh and blood of the same dust, and yet there's a part of them that clashes, like oil and water and one side has to surrender.

“Oh, you know better than I do? What is in my heart? You think your beloved Tricolor loves you as much as I do? For what you are? Your fairness? Wisdom? You were good to them, nothing more.”

“How dare you–”

“You say it yourself! They have replaced you! Even now, it is they who use you against me! Your replacement tried to bargain with me claiming your affection for Tricolour. What do they know? I'm the only want wanting to avenge you. They spout justice and dawdle on catching your killer. They killed you! One of your people. They are right to fear me, but you-”

“I am not afraid of you! I'm disappointed, Schpood. I can not trust you… I can't even defend you.”

Upon the words' utterance, it wounded him. But he craved her even more.

Schpood tried to grasp her hands as they slipped away from his hold. Jophiel stood and paced back, away from him. He couldn't bear the look on her face and his eyes watched only the hem of her dress. What he was worthy of looking at, he believed.

‘Strange… she doesn't trust me anymore. I thought she would be angry but… suddenly, the ground beneath my feet is giving way.’

The Emperor's security throughout their relationship began to disappear from before his very eyes. Try as he might to stay strong, and stable. Everything turned over in a single moment, creating a doubt in his mind. At her words, just that, words, Emperor Schpood thought himself reduced. Unworthy and unneeded.

With a sneer, he pushed himself up to stand away from the foot of his bed. Instead of walking towards however, he went the opposite way. Back turned to her. ‘I know I'm lashing out, by declaring war knowing what it inflicts but it's what I am and what I can.’

Strangely, he felt a sense of déjà vu. Schpood craned his neck, seeing the water gardens from where they'd had a similar conversation. He thought they were arguing then, but she was only pleading with him as he was with her. For a fleeting moment Schpood felt happy, invigorated even. She had tried to kill him, she must be desperate as well.

“When that man brought me your head, did I myself not punish him? Did I not send my builders and soldiers to help hold Tricolor together after your demise?”

When he turned to ask her, he saw her back facing him.

“Jophiel. I realise now, our love isn't equal, because even she have lost trust. You fear me.” He took two slow steps towards her when she faced him, “You're the one letting go of our future! Exul knows I can not blame you for dying but I blame you for accepting it. That is betrayal when I am trying to bring you back!”

Jophiel watched him with slumped shoulders, so foreign to her usual upright posture. She raised her hand, but it fell flat beside her. Jophiel was tired. ‘I know he's reacting violently because of the perceived betrayal and that he can't see me as separate to his lover, the Queen and not his Empress.’

“But I stayed for you… I stayed as this… this,” Jophiel struggled to speak, hands covering her lips as she gestured to herself or whatever she had become. “I stayed! I have not betrayed you! Rather it is you-” Schpood had reached her, a mere four strides. He placed his hands on her neck, searching for a pulse.

“I…” He sighed, caressing her corpse cold skin, a sickly patch of flesh in his palms. “I tried to fall out of love with you. I tried, believe me. I couldn't.” He shook his head, her faithlessness overshadowed. But she pushed him away, a small, weak shove barely corporeal. It pushed him back nonetheless.

“I admit waging a war is… overkill.”

That was as far an apology and fault he would give. ‘Maybe Hex was right… I am prideful. It's hubris to think you would forgive me, Jophiel, nor understand. Cause I always was. It's too late for me to consider that your blessing will never come.’

The Emperor nodded at her, letting go of her sleeves as he trod back to the window, by the head of his bed.

“So, you do know. But you still seek to lead a council of war, despite my protests. My begging. When instead of considering to grant adversaries with mercy-”

“Never! That is an absurdity, Jophiel!”

His footsteps became heavier as he walked away, a familiar feeling, worse than displeasure or annoyance roared within him. She was attacking him, no longer pleading. “To let your death be in vain?! A means to an end for them?! I will not have it!”

“Schpood! It's my death! Mine! The choice of what follows is mine!”

“No. It's to who you left behind.”

Schpood catching a glimpse of the knife furrowed his brows and reached for it. The wretched blade mocking him, ‘Wait, aren't I only half-asleep? Is this…’

“What would you have me do, Schpood? Rejoice that my lover's hand are stained with blood in my name? How can I stop you? I've no choice but to put a blade to your neck.”

“Then why didn't you?”

The silver stared back at him, relentless and teasing. A ringing echoed in his mind, his blood running cold. ‘Wasn't all this a dream?’ But when he touched the knife, it was cold. It was real. Schpood felt splashed by water as if he woke up when he'd been awake all along. ‘She truly wants me to stop, no. She wants me dead.’

Suddenly, he grabbed the knife and placed it on his neck. Eyes red, a raving madness in the tremors of his grip. However, she only looked at him, resigned.

“We both know you won't.”

Not because he was afraid, or he couldn't but simply that he vowed to drag her back to the land of the living with him by any means necessary. After all, their Trihelm existed in the living world, so must she. Jophiel must be with him, and he will make it so.

“I think,” Jophiel began, swaying as she shook her head, in denial? Schpood couldn't tell, “Even if you insist otherwise, I am an excuse… in your conquest. To slake the greed you keep hidden within you like a sword.”

“My greed? What of your naivety? It's too idealistic for you to hope war won't happen regardless of your death, even if I don't initiate it. Since our side wasn't the first to spill blood, that there's no avoiding it.”

And while war disturbed and disgusted the Queen, “You're right. Even so, it's not my wish to see you drowning in violence and blood.” But what she didn't admit out loud were her thoughts. On a deeper level Jophiel was frustrated that her wishes no longer bore any weight, as she's dead and instead replaced by what Schpood wants. It's his actions putting them deeper in the quagmire.

“You take me for some kind of beast-”

“I didn't. Now I do, I don't recognize you or what it is you truly love.”

That was the boiling point, an ear piercing screech rang in their chamber from the bed's foundation scratching across the stone floor. Splinters of wood burst from underneath as the bed toppled over from Schpood's sheer strength. He pushed it out of his way when he stormed towards her, silver knife no longer at his jugular but comfortable in his hold.

She recoiled, stepping back hastily. Breaths heavy, with wide eyes. Jophiel hadn't realized she'd placed her arms up defensively.

The thud of his footsteps, he towered over her. The heat of his rage radiated from him. For some reason, his eyes were drawn to her lips.

Soon as he heard her staggering breaths, saw the tremble in her form, Schpood backed off. “You're afraid of me too.” He uttered, again, more to himself this time. He approached her slowly this time, the knife clattering to the floor.

Schpood reached out to touch, like he had earlier. His palms holding her face, thumb stroking her cheek. She snarled, animalistic. A show of defensiveness like that of a cornered, wounded prey. Protecting what little strength and control she had left, and his opposing tenderness in contrast began disarming her. Her eyes were looking to his lips.

Their eyes locked on each other, the brown of the earth and a blue of the sky. He was close, if it had been some other circumstance, the tension would've borne a kiss.

“Have I not proven it enough? Am I not fighting for you at this very moment? All I did to lead to this, is for you. Jophiel.”

She stepped back because she felt the walls going down and she still had to stand her ground. He let her.

“You're about to start a war and I can't stop you.”

“It's not that you can't, I won't let you. It's too late.”

Unbeknownst to Jophiel, Schpood took her as what fills every void in him.

‘While I do have Hex and her abundant, unconditional love, that's tethered by the fact we are twins. Jophiel on the other hand had no reason to love and care for me, since Westhelm benefited more in the arrangement than Tricolor. Other than a peace treaty and an army, I, myself had nothing to offer her.

There are a hundred handsome, strong men. Good fighters that would've lined up at her door. I am unstable and out of control, mad even. A man undeserving of love but she loved me anyway. Westhelm loves me because I am Emperor, she loved me deeper than that because while she needed a fellow leader to secure the deal, it didn't have to be me. She chose me despite his eccentricities. Therefore, to me, she is above Westhelm, Hex and even myself. It hurts that I come after Tricolour.’

“And if I am feared, so be it. But you, you, my safety. I lost you.”

“You didn't lose me, you're pushing me out!”

He failed to understand, up until that moment that Jophiel by her nature would've opposed him. As magnets do.

‘She won't tolerate me if she thinks I'm wrong, despite what others support me to do.’

None in the Emperor's court had challenged his orders.

“Pushing you out? Are you blind, Jophiel? I'm trying to bind you to me.” He reached for her again, shaking her shoulders. Jophiel exhaled, a shivering breath that shook him. “We'll never reconcile, Schpood.”

‘Until he stops centering me as his and as my own person, I suppose this is as far as we go. As long as his possession of me overrules, as long as its tangled up in his fantasy of our stolen future… Perhaps this is why he can so easily go rogue and put his plans before mine, he is not thinking of the consequences he will face for me.’

“Never?”

‘Is that so… I know, I can't let go of the hope maybe you might. After all, all those that claim to love me, my twin, my subjects… they all have and will. Still, maybe because I was never a threat to Westhelm, or a viewed cause of downfall.

My men would not turn on their Emperor over a little madness but Jophiel is a queen and not my subject. She won't and doesn't give me the luxury of indulgence.’

“I'm a dead queen whose death is being tied to turbulent times. I no longer hold the same level of reverence as an Emperor presiding over a stable court! My memory is being tarnished and my rule picked apart for every misstep.”

It put him in a limbo, deep down he knew he had to accept her death to be able to fight for it or to compromise with her. That meant letting her go to a degree, and see his second chance is without her, not to live in the past or a fabricated future.

Emperor Schpood came to an acceptance, then and there. He is her only voice in the living world, her biggest and only strength and he should be able to see the battlefield from her front.

“You must accept now, I am dead. Schpood.” Jophiel grabbed him by the jaw, like a child forced to look into her eyes. Even though he was much larger than her, tall and mighty.

“Or will you keep on denying it? Chasing after an imagined future?”

“An imagined future?”

“Yes, Schpood. I am here, yes. But we'll never be able to live as we planned. But you, only thinking of your own relief, and not of me who needs you.”

“It is I, who needs you! Jophiel! How many times must I say it? How much lower must I prostrate myself for you? Are you so fearful of me you don't wish to return to my side?”

“Is that what you think I'm doing? I gave up paradise to stay by your side, Schpood! By Ish, I should be resting in the veil!”

“Yet you act otherwise. Are you satisfied being a spirit shackled to me? We wanted greatness, and unity but I see only I will see it through.”

Both of them wanted the best for their nations, is what started their started to bond, but when she died and left only a legacy, he's left hollow. Schpood expected and started to build a life they will share. Then, he is abruptly denied, and for the longest time he's always gotten what he wanted, some were difficult, some easy, but the Emperor always got what he wanted.

The crown, the fame and power and control, the love of the people, loyal subjects. But despite all this and the imperial power and virtue of his birth that granted him all that, the thing he desired most was something snatched from his hands. He wasn't prepared for it. His crown and power became meaningless.

Without Jophiel, another void opened, this time deeper, more insatiable, with nothing to fill it. And he had to grapple with it since her death, a tension festering under the surface all along.

Jophiel was the embodiment of the love he craved. She is how he was able to cope, by the reassurance that she is his unequivocally.

Facing her now, what used to be vibrant crystal blue eyes, flushed cheeks of summer blush became grey eyes like a rotting fish and skin bloated and decayed.

Schpood was hit with the reality that she's gone and its not as he imagined it would go. In the back of his mind, he knew this. Only, staring death in the eye was different.

His thumb grazed her lip, he felt no warmth from her. No pulse.

“But dead or alive, you are mine to have, to love, to avenge. It wasn't just my future empress stolen from me, but you, entirely. And everything I should've had with you. That's why I covet you, after death, even against your wishes. Whether it's your soul or your ghost, ashes of you or the worms that feast on your flesh, all of it is mine, to suffer and to keep.

You swore to stay by me, honor that vow now, Jophiel. I told you, you can despise me. If I can't have love, he will have hate. Love, hate, everything in between as long as it's from you I will happily oblige.”

His left hand left her shoulder to hold her hand, fingers intertwined. He brought their entwined hands to his lips and placed a feather light kiss upon her knuckles.

‘These are the hands that tried to kill me. I thought she wouldn't but she did. I wanted her to, am I losing it? Still, Jophiel wants me dead. No, no. She wants me with her. So, we mist want the same thing.’

“I have nothing, Jophiel, not even you.”

Schpood used the sliver of hope of resurrecting her to mask his pain. What he was convinced was their similar desire. The Emperor who has always been sure and secure, now he wasn't so. Not with himself.

She placed her hand on his cheek, mirroring his actions and brought them back where they began.

“You planned Operation Schpood.”

“It was a mistake.”

Jophiel sighed.

“You’re irredeemable.”

“Stay dead.” He spat in retaliation, in anger. Schpood regretted it as soon as he said it.

As if to do as he commanded, Jophiel disappeared before his eyes.

You had a temper like my jealousy
Too hot, too greedy

Do you wanna know, know that it doesn't hurt me? (Yeah, yeah, yo)
Do you wanna hear about the deal that I'm making? (Yeah, yeah, yo)

Chapter Text

He hadn't seen Jophiel in hours, even as the dawn turned to dusk. From the distance, he can see the squadron he sent to the Commonwealth returning. The banners of Westhelm hoisted proudly, Skipolo leading upon his brown steed.

A rider reached the citadel before them, led straight to the Emperor's throne room where he informed Schpood that…

They failed.

Upon arriving and seizing the halls of the Commonwealth, Senator Knight Arcturus was not found. Albeit what they achieved was humiliating the Commonwealth, it did not please the Emperor enough.

Schpood, after sending the rider away, looked around his empty hall. There was not a sign of Jophiel. He mistook a glimpse of her with the rays of the sun streaming through the windows. Though when he approached, abandoning his throne, she was not there.

A trick of the eye. A delusion of the mind.

He had hoped that, Jophiel, upon hearing his rash decision made after their quarrel, would come to scold him again. She did not.

‘Somehow, this indifference cuts deeper than disappointment.’

Returning back to his chair to receive the last of the petitioners, he was met instead by Spyder. The consul cleared his throat, stepping up the stairs to reach the Emperor.

Placing the his hand on the arm, he began, “There's news from Infernus. Apparently Queen Cynikka has banded with the Covenant and paraded Lingulini's head and threw it into the lava.”

“The pasta man?”

Spyder cleared his throat not to laugh, how disrespectful of the deceased. “Yes, the leader of the mafia that was under Infernus before they relocated to Pandora.”

“Ah,” Schpood nodded, half a mind only to the conversation. “Yes, yes. I see.” He took a breath, massaging his temple. “Tell the petitioners to return tomorrow. Or handle it yourself.”

As Schpood watched Spyder walk away, his back turned, a creeping chill ran up his spine. The blonde tufts from his helmet reminded him of Jophiel's. The sword the consul carried glinted the same way her knife had.

‘Even the dead are out to get me… even my lover, and now, the boy I've taken for a son?’

He hissed, picking at the scab on his neck. It oozed blood once more not 24 hours past it was made. He grabbed his own blade, a nifty iron blade made before his miners found better material.

“You have served me well,” Schpood told the dagger, kissing it's blade. His breath white on the cold metal. “Will you serve me a final time?”

Schpood didn't dare say it out loud but in the fleeting hours of dawn, he'd contemplated following his bride. “Let it be over.” He'd said. However, the iron knife only sheathed back into the leather and not flesh.

“No, no. I can bring her back, here. I am Emperor of Westhelm, I cannot admit defeat.”

The Emperor slept that night with chain mail under his clothes and the day next, under his court robes.

At times his council ran long, his mi d went elsewhere. Of memories past.

His sister was furious. At him. The newly crowned Emperor could not fathom why. “As formidable as you are, Schpood, you are one man. I cannot always cover your blind spot.” She was exasperated, he could tell.

Schpood shrugged, removing the iron armour. “I survived today, didn't I? I am being careful.”

“Careful?” Hex spat out, grabbing her dagger and nicking his ear. Schpood turned startled, metal clanging noisily upon hitting the floor.

“Hex! What the fuck was that for?”

“You are complacent brother. I could've killed you same as wound you. We will find you better guards and, a harder training.”

He sighed, tuning to the meeting again and then again tuning out of it. This time, strangely, it was his late mother that came to mind.

“You're praising me?” Schpood asked, confused. The Empress Regent smiled, a smile that had no warmth as she kissed his cheek. “Sweet boy, of course I am.”

“Mother, I just ordered someone's execution.”

“Yes, indeed. A good decisive decision. We must always protect ourselves, our family.”

“And what is the family?”

“The throne.”

Empress Regent Herane the bandage around her son’s arm. A bowl of water and blood by the table. “Listen now, my son. You are my strength. My legacy. You must always be cautious of every attack, of every motive. Trust no one. That is the life of an Emperor.”

It was a lesson he learned the hard way, after Empress Regent Herane passed. He could trust, but one person. Later in his years became two.

Now the Emperor questioned, if two had become none.

Schpood, it's me, I'm Jophiel

Oh, come on, baby (yeah)

The next big news that swept over Yggdrasil was of the death of Elysium's Archon. The news of a fellow leader's death and a distant relative did not greet the Emperor a good morning. Much less, it was the news of the passing of this distant relative. The Consul feared Schpood would spiral deeper into the void he fell into.

Instead, the servants saw him wandering the halls of the Citadel, like a ghost or playing hide and seek with one. Just that he, the seeker, could not find her. Spyder, the last of the consul along with the Senate grew ever increasingly worried. Back then atleast Schpood would do his ‘musings’ in private. Now he hardly cared.

Unbeknownst to him, Jophiel was aware. She followed him still and stayed with him as she promised, only she refused to show her presence.

She was sick of it.

“Am I making you uncomfortable, Schpood? Would you wish to feel me a little less? You should've sealed my mausoleum gates tighter if you didn't wish me free haunt you, my love.”

She watched him train with his guards before the sun reached peak at day. Inspect the weapons, the artillery and the heads of soldiers under his command. The daily round around his empire. From the Colosseum, the markets and back the Citadel.

He seemed to be doing well.

Jophiel mused to herself, humming as she walked through the halls of what would've been her marital home. The glorious Citadel of Westhelm that has withstood the test of time. The same Citadel the First Emperor of Westhelm had built to house his wife and children.

What became of him and his foreign Empress? The Queen could now hardly recall, her mind had begun to turn grey.

She left the maids in a chill, a fright hearing her haunting songs. Queen Jophiel would apologise, but they saw her not. She continued, settling in the bustling kitchen.

The smell of garlic wafted over her, bread and butter that was hard to come by. Venison was being prepared, imported, Jophiel heard the cook say. Whether he was happy, she could not discern. She knew only that it came from the forests of Tricolor.

“I want justice... of course. But by Ish, what is being done for it is incredibly vengeful and foolish.”

“You think the Emperor is being stupid, Empress?” Owo6 popped up beside her, trying to grab an apple. A feat of grabbing material things she's been trying to teach the young man to no avail.

“Yes, that's exactly what I think.”

Owo6 snorted, giving up on the apple and instead turning to swat Jophiel's hair. Like a cat playing with yarn. “Did you tell him that to his face, Empress?”

“I did. And more.”

“I guess he remains stubborn, Empress?”

Jophiel tilted her head, messing with the lads pink hair. It's bright colour remained intact. “Why do you call me that, sweet boy?”

“What? Empress? Aren't you the Empress?”

“I am not. I did not get to marry your Emperor.”

To that, the former consul merely shrugged, his feet dangling and swinging from the table. “Eh, potato, poh-ta-to.” Jophiel found herself chuckling, remembering Schpood's use of the phrase.

“I learned that phrase from him.”

“It seems you learned a lot from Schpood.”

“Mhm. I also learned that he always sees things through.”

“He is blind! He does not see this conquest will devour not just Yggdrasil but Pandora as well.”

Owo6 can see how angered the Queen was. Lips tight in a straight line, jaw clenched in a similar way the Emperor's jaw ticks at displeasure. “He's breaking his vows.”

“Funny,” Owo said, braiding the Queen's hair. “The Emperor said something similar. Your vows never made it to the altar he said. So it's null.”

“I knew what Schpood was, I thought I could temper him. What a fool I was.”

I've come home, I'm so cold

Oh, come on, darlin' (yo)
Let me steal this moment from you now

The meeting of the Blue Cross concluded, messily. It was the first and largest diplomatic intrigue of the realm. Senator Bardun cast a glance towards the representative of Luminara. A comely man, eyes of deep purple adorned with gold upon his coat.

And notably, the first and only to come to Infernus's defense. Calling for a trial of a nation he had no ties to. On the surface, how just. But the Senator, who'd had inside information from his consul knew Fluixon of Luminara was not such a pure intentioned man.

Still, Luminara is the country that dreamed of a bridge. They may yet to see it's hostility. “Senator,” a knight of Tricolor approached him as they were about to leave. “May we borrow a couple swords from Westhelm. We intend to apprehend…” He did not finish.

Sighing, the Senator nodded. A few of his household guards went with the Tricolorians. “That should be enough.” He estimated incorrectly.

It was only after the matter concluded, when his guards returned to him that he found out Fluxion had escaped the arrest. Bardun massaged his temples, a blaring headache blinding him.

“Good Exul, help me.” He listened to the details of the event, recounting them once more to ensure he can relay the failure to his Emperor. And just as he predicted, Schpood erupted into fury the likes the Senator had seen rarely. Similar to when the Queen's head was presented to him.

“You failed?!”

It only deepened Schpood's distrust, not only of his senate, even his only remaining Consul and Heir Apparent. Even the grand vizier, Lady Hex.

How could you leave me
When I needed to possess you?

You
It's you and me

Rumors and whispers of the Traitor Queen soon faded from the memory of the masses, after all, how could they call her such when her lover is worse?

The mad emperor, the whispered in taverns. Merchants and travellers alike spread the word. The Emperor of Westhelm would soon take his revenge. As Westhelmians are known to repay debt in blood, a thick as the blood of their brothers shared.

The Emperor, again at twilight was seen skulking by the water gardens. It had yet to have a name, the grand and most beautiful structure Westhelm has yet to boast. Like the gardens of Babylon.

Schpood continued to seek Jophiel out, to no avail and ended up soaked by the fountain. Placing a soft kiss on the tip of the nose of her statue.

“When this is done, I shall swim in these waters and kiss your shoulder Jophiel. To dissolve in your touch like cream in coffee. Just the way you like yours, Jophiel.

I am in pain, won't you come see me now? The ache spreads all over but not on my body. But I understand if you're still angry, your death is after all a consequence of my plan.

So I am more determined now.”

Splashing water upon his face to wake, and caught a glimpse of gold that flitted by his side and gone as quickly as the blink of an eye. “Jophiel!”

“Come back! Will you make me stay and be nothing to you?! I am not so unfeeling, I'm not a monster incapable of being hurt… Do you think because I am callous and rash, I know I am called unstable, mad even. I admit it proudly, so what? I am who I am.

But I have a heart, that beats surely for you. Bleeds for you, will cease pumping blood for you! If Exul had seen it right to let us live together I would've made it as impossible for you to resist me and abandon me as I you.”

He could almost hear her and Schpood wasn't sure if he was, truly.

“You're not a monster, Schpood. Deep inside that diamond hard armour of yours, that thick skin of yours that blades can not pierce… is just a man. A boy I dare say, who needs warmth. Connection, sunsets and laughter. Slivers of joy.”

“You are my joy. Come back to me, my warm shining sun.”

Let me in your window

Come on, come on, darlin'
Let's exchange the experience (yo), oh, ooh, ooh

In Pandora, the storm moved. A silence before it came, the winds carried. Fluxion had escaped his arrest and successfully pushed LegacyAN out of the running for president.

This was the news that reached Schpood, after hours of pleading with Jophiel, who in turn ignored his begging as he once refused to hear hers.

Holding his sword, he gripped the blade. It was only his leather glove that prevented blood. “See? I try to hang onto you like blood on a blade.”

He watched lanterns emerge from the Coloseum. A celebration of the day the sun shone longest, the day stretching farther in the night. With the golden lanterns reaching the sky like stars, it was Jophiel that came to his mind.

Always and with every little thing, she haunted his every waking moment even if she no longer spoke with him.

She was dancing in the water gardens, like a fairy. With every step full of joy and cheeks pink with blush of life. Her song bouncing off the rippling water and the fountain pillars. “I see you enjoy the water gardens. It's yours.”

He pictured her standing, in the middle of the Colosseum, celebrating with everyone else. Surely she would've. A holy light that graced upon him, the Queen of Tricolor who was blood of House Theria. The blood of angels.

It was only when he imagined her that he found respite. The Emperor leaned against the hard bench made only for him. Robes slipping past. The sweetness of grape lingering on his tongue.

He broke the bread laid before him, the performances in the centre of the Coloseum continued much to the cheers of the spectators. A memory graced him again as he realised it, and the bread. Though coarse and dry, not fit for an Emperor but it is the wheat of Yggdrasil.

He shoved bread into her mouth, Jophiel who had forgotten to eat and worked non-stop. Her cheeks filled like a squirrel hoarding nuts. She glared but chewed all the same.

“Pity, I'll never taste such bread again.”

A vision of white blurred in his peripheral vision, Schpood turned, seeing Saparata watching on besides the few spectators that wanted to be around him. It was only the the dictator, that was more dog, that remained by his side.

The white boy had a veil over his face, the two wings wilted behind his ear. But the way he clapped his hands after every performance, only half a hand making the sound. Though, Schpood imagined, ‘Had he not been through what he did, perhaps his claps and cheers would be as loud as Jophiel's was. Wait… Jophiel?’

Saparata laughed, subdued, and turned his head to Turntapp. The accused patting the dictator's shoulder as he laughed.

‘Jophiel used to do that..with me.’

“You.” Schpood called, startling the snickering pair. “Come here.” Saparata and Turntapp exchanged looks and did as was bid. Schpood tilted his head, resting it lazily on his closed knuckles.

“Tell me, Saparata. Do you have family?”

Saparata shifted weight from one foot to another. He fiddled and stopped, and fuddled again with his fingers. “Do not lie to me now.”

“I had family.. I still have some. I believe.”

“Tell me more.”

“I had two sisters, now one. And a younger brother.”

“You are Jophiel's younger brother.” Schpood said, “She mentioned siblings once but never named them.”

Schpood knew his guess was right, when the white boy was too stiff to answer. The Emperor did notice, Turntapp's hand squeezing Saparata's and then the boy answered.

“I am.. how did you know?”

“You just told me.”

Schpood invited him, and his companion, to sit close and enjoy the festivities together. He wanted to ask why, Saparata didn't just tell him so.

‘Even if he had actually done what he is accused, if he'd told me earlier that he was Jophiel's brother… I would've protected him sooner and regardless of if he did. But now I know atleast, he couldn't have done it. If he loved Jophiel at all. Surely, he must. They look alike, somewhat.’

Turntapp, meanwhile, breathed a sigh of relief. His hold on Saparata's hand loosened, it was Saparata's turn to hold his hand tighter.

They told me I was going to lose the fight

Be runnin' up that volcano

An eagle flew in, past the black sails of the Emperor's ship and perched on Schpood's shoulder. Huffing, he sent the bird to flight bearing a new message.

In time, the ship reached the azure waters of Tricolor. The Verdant Hall opened to receive the Emperor. The kings court had none but King Gabory.

“You let him slip through your fingers!”

King Gabory did not defend himself, but he did not yield either. Schpood in the end could not break King Gabory to hand over Tricolour's independency without shedding blood.

He considered it. To strike the King dead and take the kingdom. But the stained glass windows that his Queen loved to bask in so much glared at him with sunlight and he found he could not unsheathe his sword.

“I am your ally, Emperor, not your vassal.”

“And I will remedy that should you fail again.”

Emperor Schpood left one of his Senators to serve in the King's Court. Senator Philip Kar. As diplomats, he was told, were chess masters and he believed his senators to be so. On the surface, Emperor Schpood extended his hand to help but on the inside of the Verdant Hall, Senator Philip's presence was a pressure.

‘This should be enough to put the king in the position of puppet.’

And after Schpood's affairs in Tricolor were done, he sailed back. Standing by the deck, Schpood realised, ‘I am standing alone.’

There was a comfort that Jophiel lent to him in regards to leaders of Pandora and even other Yggdrasil nations, the gentleness and stability he didn't have.

“But I don't have that now.”

Schpood, it's me, I'm Jophiel

Oh, come on, angel

To Saparata, who has been housed in the Citadel of Westhelm, it came as a shock to hear that half of Covenant's forces left for Infernus. He met Turntapp by the door, pulling him inside his room.

He had the same stiff face but Saparata could see the distress calling out from his expression. His dark eyes in panic. Saparata led Turntapp to a chair, handing him a cup of water.

“Are you alright?”

“I…”

“I'm sorry, Turntapp… they left because of me.”

Schpood, it's me, I'm Jophiel
I've come home, I'm so cold
Let me in your window

Say, if I only could, oh

“I think… We were fire and water. Your sister and I. Like sky and sea.” Schpood said, at dinner with Saparata. “Could she have tempered me?”

Saps smiled beneath his veil. “She would have tamed you, I believe, Emperor.”

“Would she? That would be nice.”

“My sister was fierce as she was gentle.”

Schpood grinned, pushing a plate of pheasants to Saps. “I know. Well, will you tell me more of her?” By the end of dinner, that had extended hours more, Saps ran out of stories that wouldn't embarrass his sister.

“I was..” Schpood began, after all they were left with were wine, “picking names for our children. Wondering whether we'd raise them in Westhelm or Tricolor…”

“Them, Emperor?”

“Please, no more with the Emperor. Just Schpood, or brother if you like. We're brothers.”

Saparata nodded, swirling the wine. ‘My sister would've taken the cup from me by now. This is the third one.’

“Perhaps that's enough wine, young man.” Saparata was startled at Schpood's suggestion, the Emperor took the cup away from him. “I'm not that young…and, you said, them?”

Schpood chuckled. “Twins. The Pendaris blood has always produced twins. I wondered if your sister's Theria blood would negate that.” Saparata, thanked his veil for hiding his shocked expression. He imagined his sister, with her tyrannical husband and their children.

He would have a niece, or a nephew.

“You must think me stupid, brother. By the time we were engaged, I was thinking of life after marriage. Twins would've been perfect, an heir for each crown. Then we would've retired, to a province or somewhere.”

It seemed an understanding was reached by both at the same time and they were both sobered up.

“Love is not enough, it seems. But I believe in Trihelm, the dream you and my sister had. Glory to Trihelm.”
I've come home, I'm so cold
Let me in your window

And if I only could
I'd make a deal with Ish
And I'd get Him to swap our places

The air was dripping with tension. Soldiers in their diamond armors stood out in the night, flocking up the stairs. Spyder led Zekor and his men inside meeting hall in Covenant, wary of their blades. That morning Schpood emerged from his room, different, similar to how he was before knowing the Queen's existence but not quite the same. It frankly frightened the consul.

The two parties filled the hall, the hearth quickly warmed them. Spyder himself had little trust in the Covenant, especially after Westhelm had absorbed what little remained of Nevermore. Nor that the room was free of traps. He stayed faithfully by the Emperor's side.

“I propose a trade. You give me Saparata and the Commonwealth gives you Knight Arcturus.”

At the name, Sheep flinched, ‘That bloody fucking traitor!’ Schpood's voice rang clearly in his mind. He rested his hand on the hilt of his sword, counting how many of the Commonwealth he can cut down if it came to it. His Emperor on the other hand, seemed to at ease in the current situation.

“Arty for Saps?” Only those who knew Schpood well could hear the mockery in his tone. Eyes of dark brown, like the soil over a graveyard, looked to the side, meeting eyes covered by a white veil. “I mean,” Schpood shrugged the shoulder holding his shield, “Where would this happen?”

The air grew ever heavier, more distasteful as if polluted. The guards shifted in place. “You can let us take Saparata now and then we can kill Arcturus for you.” Zekor offered, stretching his hand out to seem magnanimous but the Emperor quickly interjected, “No, no. Don't kill him. He needs to fight in the Coloseum.”

Schpood didn't add, he would take the man's head himself. They didn't need to know that.

Zekor let out a breath that sounded vaguely a scoff, but he relented. “Alright. We can make that work as well.” He said nodding. The two respective representatives stood before each other, Schpood scoffed, shaking his head. “So you're saying you know where he is?”

His wit hadn't been always given it's due but Emperor Schpood had the quality of shrewdness inherited from his mother.

“I-”

“It's interesting because SitKreig said he didn't.”

Their discourse continued, but the bluff had been called. Zekor simply was no match for Schpood. In any way.

“Schpood,” ‘Brother,’ Was what Saparata meant to say but did not, “Don't do this.” His breathing somewhat calmed when Schpood looked towards him, Saparata couldn't see any sign of assurance that he wouldn't be handed over like livestock. He crossed his fingers and prayed, prayed that his sister's taste in a man would not betray him.

“… this will be the end of Westhelm.”

‘Arrogant turd,’ Spyder thought, placing his shield down. ‘You wouldn't recognise war if it slapped you in the face.’ The Consul bit his tongue not to say his thoughts out loud as he watched the tension grow.

Schpood chuckled, taking a leisurely step forward. “So, just to make the terms of this deal very clear because I wanna be accurate,” Schpood swung his shield, turning his back to Zekor and circling towards the window. “Aha, you expect me to give up an innocent man in exchange for a terrorist?”

When he turned to face them again, a crazed smile familiar to Spyder and the guards, graced the Emperor's lips. “Is that really your offer?” “He's not innocent.”

Schpood looked down, as if to hide a laugh. Looking up, his eyes cast a glance around the room and despite it being Covenant grounds, he held all the power. He slowly took steps toward Zekor, tower over the man and staring him down.

“Get out.”

After those of the Common Wealth were driven out, Schpood asked Saparata to return with him to Westhelm where he would be better protected. But he refused.

“Did you… Actually consider handing me over?” Saps couldn't help the question spilling out try as he might. Schpood quickly turned to face him, as if insulted. His thick brows scrunched up, lips pressed. “Do you think so little of me?”

“That's not what I meant,” Saps was swift to say, raising his hands in surrender. “Just that, he offered a good deal. I hear Senator Arcturus's attempt was almost successful and a faction of his supporters remain. He is dangerous.”

“Psh,” Schpood shook his head, taking his helmet off. “It was a shitty offer. Besides, you are what remains of my love. You and your siblings, should they feel I am worthy of knowing who they are. I do love your sister, if you do not trust me, trust that.”

Saps nodded, he knew after that failed trade off. He knew.

“Well, you still won't come to Westhelm? Were the few days of your stay not good?”

Saps laughed, awkwardly, in fact, Schpood was far too welcoming as if to overcompensate everything he wanted to give to Jophiel. Saparata turned towards where Turntapp was waiting for him, standing solemnly even when his men outright wouldn't stand beside him.

“No, brother. I will stay here.”

Ooh, let me have it
Let me grab your soul away

I'd be runnin' up that road
Be runnin' up that volcano
With no problems

The long awaited day of Infernus's trial had come at last. Saparata walked beside Turntapp, never straying far. It was his turn to be by him steadfastly as no doubt he would be named in the trial. Squeezing Turntapp's shoulder, Saps whispered, “No matter the verdict, I'll stand by you.”

“Even when I'm guilty?”

“What did I just say?”

Turntapp chuckled, a rare sound that Saps learned to relish while they lasted. “But I'm not like you, Saparata. It's not a false accusation.” “I said what I said, Turntapp. Regardless the verdict.”

Soon enough they reached the Blue Cross after crossing the sea of wheat. Saparata took Turntapp's hand in his as they weaved through the crowd. He feared their separation.

People began to grow restless especially as Infernus refused to enter due to safety concerns. Saps felt the stung of some of the gazes but he held firm. Turntapp squeezed his hand. It was warm, calloused and rough… and comforting.

What happened after was done in the blink of an eye.

It was a feeling in Saparata's gut at first, that disquieting, sickening feeling he felt the day the leaders of Pandora were massacred in his home. He looked up and saw the dripstone first. Right above his head and, for a moment he thought, ‘Good let it fall-'

But someone pushed him out of the way.

The dripstone fell, as it did that day. And fall it did, on Turntapp.

Saparata had barely any time to react and by the time he'd come to his senses, his dearest companion was nothing but ash by his feet. His ashes slipping through Saparata's fingers.

I'm coming back love, cruel Saparata

And if I only could
I'd make a deal with Ish
And I'd get Him to swap our places

He didn't even hear Turntapp's final words, nor read his lips.

There was chaos, quick, as it followed. Screaming and panic and a great stampede but saps was collapsed to his knees.

‘That wretched dripstone.’

“Funny, why am I thinking of that now? That misguided joke of Tithonus and Eos. I laughed because I thought I would be Tithonus and crumble to ash. Living forever as dust as I age. We were wrong… Oh, Turntapp. I was wrong. But you should've been Eos.”

The gods deemed fit to mock him. As if to say, how dare you liken yourself to us? So they twisted it, everything. Turntapp did as he promised, to protect him at the cost of the Covenant.

‘Strange, covenant means an agreement… Turntapp and I made a covenant.’

He didn't hear Schpood's thundering voice calling to him, not feel the Emperor drag him out of the courthouse. Saparata knew however, that he resisted, if he had struck the Emperor he wasn't punished for it. He resisted hard, unwilling to part with his lovers ashes. The ashes that should've been him.

Schpood, it's me, I'm Jophiel

Oh, come on, angel

“Anything?” Schpood asked the physician, who only answered him with an unfortunate shake of his head. “Well, he must eat.” Schpood took the porridge from the waiting maid's hands and stalked to the chair where Saparata found himself glued to in the aftermath.

“Brother,” He tried to soothe but it was never his strong suit. For a moment he imagined, if he looked as miserable after Jophiel's demise. “At least water then.” But the cup was left full. Schpood signed, leaving the bowl of porridge and cup of water close enough to Saparata.

“Attend to him whatever he needs, and should he call for me… I will see him.” He instructed the maid and with one last glance to one who seemed to have died, he left the room. Schpood rubbed the gooseflesh that rose along his arms. Saparata's catatonic state reminded him far too much of himself, he feared staying in the room would cause him to be swallowed once more by the paralyzing agents of grief.

It was after the Emperor left that the maid felt a chill, and a churning in her stomach. She looked around the room but there was no one else but the flickering lights did not made her feel better. It wasn't until a pale white hand, that she thought was of a corpse but was the man's she was commanded to serve, waved her out of the room.

The maid rushed out, the double doors banging behind her as she fled.

“Are you there…sister?”

Saparata could only call out, half-jokingly. “I mean… the servants say you haunt this place. Or was it the Emperor? Well?”

“I'm here.” But her brother could not see her, Jophiel sighed, kneeling to hug him. “Oh, I'm so sorry, Sappy.” The Queen reached out and held her brother’s face in her hands, thumbs stroking his cheeks. Much as she wished to do more, Jophiel could only lend Saparata the comfort of her presence.

It was love that ruined them both, that and the hope that the other's would be better.

I'm coming back love, cruel Schpood

And if I only could
I'd make a deal with Ish
And I'd get Him to swap our places

“Consul,” the aide called, half a step behind Spyder's office doors. “The Emperor demands your presence.” Spyder nodded, these days he'd felt only as if going through the motions. He chalked it up to exhaustion. With fingers trembling from holding the quill, he followed the aide to the Emperor's throne room with ink stains on his soldier's hands.

When he entered the solemn hall, it was only Emperor Schpood. Without his guards, without anyone else.

“I am the third emperor of Westhelm,” Spyder tilted his head at Schpood's words. He stood in the centre of the black mural sun. “They say, this Empire saw it's peak during the days of the first Emperor, Rhooze the Peacemaker. He did what countless sons of House Caesar before him failed to do, uniting the two long grudging houses of Caesar and Pompey. He defeated House Pompey, history tells us. Forced them to their knees.”

Spyder's eyes wandered, wide. He looked around and the back to Schpood, whose back was turned towards him. The Emperor looked out from the high window of his halls and onward to Westhelm. From the view, it seemed, one could hold the Empire in the palm of a hand.

‘Is this Emperor Schpood speaking? What if he's been possessed?’

“Um-”

“When you see the setting sun, what does it remind you?” This time Schpood turned to face Spyder and gestured the boy to come beside him. “I- what?”

“Westhelm's symbol is of the sun. But it is of the setting one.”

‘Was it?’

“Answer me, boy.”

“It… reminds me of our flag. The gradient of black to a burning red.”

Schpood nodded, patting Spyder's shoulder. “It was made in the time of war. The colours chosen to hide bloodstains.” Schpood scoffed, looking away. “The first emperor, my grandfather…” He spat, removing the golden laurel upon his head. “Made Westhelm a power men trembled to behold. but I inherited a Westhelm on the verge of collapse after my father…” Schpood only shook his head.

The former emperor became known as the Benevolent posthumously, but those alive to remember his reign would scorn him the opposite. The senate rejoiced when Schpood took the mantle, a passionate man of vigour. Of mad ideas. To this day, he is believed to restore Westhelm to it's former glory.

“Those of Pendaris blood are oftentimes called divine. We are above men, by virtue of this throne.” Schpood thrust the golden crown upon Spyder's hands. The latter, wide eyed and almost dropped it.

“But, without power to hold it, it's just a chair. The belief that Emperors are otherworldly… is a lie we perpetuate to be true. I did not realise that until recently. They say, it was that arrogance that destroyed the First Emperor, the one of the world, not my grandfather. His dream of control over the northern ice led to his destruction.

I believe you already know this, Spyder. In that regard you are better than I am. That I had to learn the hard way.”

“I- I don't understand.” Spyder answered, flustered. The Emperor he knew did not speak that way. Or ever have such a sombre expression. The quietness of the throne room felt unsettling. “Westhelm can never be without a head.”

Schpood then took the crown from Spyder's hands. The ink had smudged the golden leaves and then, the Emperor placed it upon the Consul's head. The same way the crown was placed upon Rhooze's head.

“I will make you my heir.”

At the words, Spyder fell to his knees prostrating himself before the Schpood. “Imperator! I-”

“I wasted my youth without an heir and with Jophiel I believed I would have one so I didn't worry about it. But, as I refuse to take another bride and will have no heir other than the one from her, I will choose you, Spyder. The closest thing I have to a son.

And I believe that amongst everyone who has served me, you are worthy. Spyder, you will be emperor after me.”

Ooh, let me have it
Let me grab your soul away

I'd be runnin' up that road
Be runnin' up that volcano
With no problems

It took only the quick stroke of a pen to make Spyder, legally, of House Caesar and a son of Pendaris.

“I, Superraptor4, of House Verginii and Senator of Internal Trade swear fealty to Emperor Schpood and his chosen heir, Consul Spyder of House Caesar, Prince of Westhelm. I pledge my allegiance to them, to defend them from all enemies, within and without, in all sincerity. I vow in Legatus Exul's name.”

The ceremony that followed was not that simple, however. The great halls filled with incense and an eagle perched high above. Nobles from far and wide descended into the Citadel at the summons. The Emperor had chosen a successor.

“I, Dabber001, of House Lucretii and Senator of Agriculture swear fealty to Emperor Schpood…”

“I, Deadwrong77, of House Palpatine and Senator of Mining swear fealty to Emperor Schpood and his chosen heir, Consul Spyder…”

“I, Clayj27, of House Horatii and Senator of S.E.C. swear fealty to Emperor Schpood and his chosen heir, Consul Spyder of House Caesar, Prince of Westhelm. I pledge my allegiance to them, to defend them from all enemies, within and without, in all sincerity. I vow in Legatus Exul's name.”

Spyder stood tall, and stiff before the great masses, hands like blocks of ice. A nervousness rattled his bones and as they swore before him, Schpood, and Exul, he too swore. ‘I will live up to this… I will protect Westhelm, at all cost. From anyone.’

“I, Izzy the Tiger, of House Valerii and Senator of Resources swear fealty to Emperor Schpood and his chosen heir, Consul Spyder of House Caesar, Prince of Westhelm. I pledge my allegiance to them, to defend them from all enemies, within and without, in all sincerity…”

“I, TheGamingWubba, of House Claudii, and Senator of Construction swear fealty to Emperor Schpood and his chosen heir, Consul Spyder of House Caesar, Prince of Westhelm…”

An awkward silence followed, people hadn't forgotten the act of treason by the previous senator and now all his successors are stained, including the very cohort. Spyder met Wubba's eyes and gave a subtle nod.

“I, Crystal K, successor of Aquila XIV and Senator of Community swear fealty…”

“I, Bardun, of House Aemilii and Senator of Diplomacy swear fealty to Emperor Schpood and his chosen heir, Consul Spyder of House Caesar, Prince of Westhelm. I pledge my allegiance…”

As Spyder's eyes slowly looked around the hall, the glittering of rubies caught his eye. There she was, the Priestess of Infernus, ruby earrings catching in the light as she raised the black veil over her face. Her intimidating black dress replaced by a red one in this occasion. Bright blue eyes met the new Prince's green ones. He couldn't tell if she was happy or not and could not look away until Skipolo blocked his vision of her as he took his turn to swear.

“I, Skipolo, of House Cornelii and Senator of the Armed swear fealty to Emperor Schpood and his chosen heir, Consul Spyder of House Caesar, Prince of Westhelm. I pledge my allegiance to them, to defend them from all enemies, within and without, in all sincerity. I vow in Legatus Exul's name.”

“I, Hex the nameless, Grand Vizier of Westhelm, swear fealty to Emperor Schpood and his chosen heir, Consul Spyder of House Caesar, Prince of Westhelm. I pledge my allegiance to them, to defend them from all enemies, within and without, in all sincerity. I vow in Legatus Exul's name.”

“I, Schpood Pendaris of House Caesar, Emperor of Westhelm do hereby name…

Spyder Pendaris of House Caesar, Prince of Westhelm and Heir Apparent of the Westhelm throne.”

Spyder loved Schpood like a father figure and Schpood loved him like a son.

But only Hex and Spyder, in that midst of celebration understood, it wasn't the Emperor simply caving in to pressure or securing the Throne's stability. It was his preparation for death.

Chapter Text

My one dream, my only lover

Be runnin' up that road
Be runnin' up that volcano
Be runnin' up that Ashen Bastion (yo)

The heat of the furnace sputtered, nothing to the heat of the volcano. The Queen of Infernus stood by its mouth, a gentle push and she'd be food for lava. A hand rested gently on her back, startling her. Cynikka breathed shakily as Dhaedrys pulled her away.

“Why did you come back?”

“I had to see you.”

Cynikka breathed her in, the smell of Pandora flowers pressed on her wrist. Dhaedrys smiled, her own fingers finding the Queen's pulse on her wrist dusted with ash. A sigh was exchanged between them, like a kiss.

“You came back.”

“For you.”

Dhaedrys clasped Cynikka's hand in hers, drawing further away from the volcano's mouth, but they only went deeper in Dante's sanctum. Candles flickering, the sound of lava slithering.

I was raised to believe there is a reason for everything. That… if all played their part as the gods wish it, all will be well. I… I still believe it but, Cynikka, I believe in you more. I thought I knew what I wanted this time ‘round. I'm not so sure now.”

“Is that what you came to say?”

“Cynikka.”

“What, Dhae? Because you lost your way. Or, you were misled. As for me all those I put my faith in, m-my husband, my father, my brother, my son…”

“I wasn't misled, Cyn. Nor did I lose my way. Put your faith in me. Heed my warnings, please.”

The Queen smiled, pushing the Priestess's hands off of her. Her boots thudding softly, traced with the gritting sound of the stone floor. “Your warnings? The same ones you give my brother now? But it led him here. You tell me run the other way, and tell him to come here.”

She blew out one of the dying candles, grasping the wick and watching the wax harden and form around the grooves of her fingers.

“Fluixon is not here… on my advice.” Dhaedrys admitted with difficulty, hands gripping the volcanic stone carved into an altar. “As you know, he's here for the one who got a way from him.”

“Oh, yes. Fair Saparata.”

The two shared a look.

“Saparata is who Fluixon wants. Who he truly wants.”

“You desire him?”

“As I once desired you.”

Cynikka snorted, “Should you be desiring him, Priestess? The incarnation of Dante? Wouldn't that be blasphemy?”

“Why not? I love him all the same.”

I've come home, I'm so cold

But see how deep the lava burns (yeah, yeah, yo)

“I've had time, of late to see the world. Pandora and all it's riches.”

“How lovely for you.”

Dhaedrys rolled her eyes at Cynikka's sarcasm, she leaned back, resting her hip against the altar. “I weighed my priorities, this time… The duty given to me or my desire. Both I thought were one and the same. They are-”

“You came to tempt me then, Dhae? Like a moth to the flame.”

“Yes. Cast your husband to the flame and run away with me.”

Cynikka wavered for a moment, in that instance they seemed to be just girls lighting candles together. “No… I mustn't. It's not that I wish to rule or be confined with all these schemes. But my people are here, it's not as if we can run away with them all.”

“Don't be foolish, Cynikka!” Dhaedrys raised her voice, stomping over to the Queen as she grabbed her shoulders. “The Emperor will pursue war and vengeance at all cost.”

“It’s too late… Dhae.”

I pine a lot, I find the lot

You
It's you and me

“So you know! You understand what's at stake! Blood has been shed! First blood of Theria's daughter of all people! The latest the lover of a Theria. The blood spilled to begin this is of the blood of angels, is that not omen enough? You don't have nearly enough soldiers! If you stay, you won't survive.”

“I can't wash my hands of it!” Cynikka finally snapped, tearing her gloves off and throwing it towards the flowing lava. Both watched it burn and be consumed. “I set it in motion, with Lingulini's death.. I-”

Dhaedrys embraced her, Cynikka's shaking shoulders slowed to a tremble. “It was not all you. And, for the volcano's blessings you would've been challenged regardless.”

“I still brought it forth, as sure as strike the match.”

“You only did what you thought was right.”

Falls through without you

It's you and me
Won't be unhappy

“I'm not staying to be absolved… but, if I am, would I be?” The Queen asked the Priestess, as if to confess. Her last confession. “I can't… be the judge of that.”

Cynikka nodded, somewhat defeated. The two found themselves seated on the floor before the alter, backs turned to Dante's carved sculpture. “I hear.. Emperor Schpood has been driven mad by the dead queen. He hasn't stopped loving her… she is the passion that drives him. How terrifying.”

“And yet, you want to face this force of madness?”

Cynikka sniffled, Dhaedrys sighing as she rested her head on the Queen's shoulder. The lapel of her coat felt uncomfortable. “He's gathering his armies, even know he's absorbed a number of small nations. Nevermore among them. Covenant too if he relinquishes Saparata.

You are the crown's authority, Cynikka. If.. I can't persuade you then.. command your guards to lay down their blades. Open the gates, let him enter a conqueror. Offer him a bloodless taking of the Bastion.”

Cynikka laughed at this, Dhaedrys had long removed her head from the Queen's shoulder. Blue eyes shining staring deep into ones of dark ashen gray.

“Already he has the stronger force. Once he finds members of the Conspiracy, his wrath may yet be sated. If you resist, this war will stretch on endlessly.”

“You don't call it senseless?” Was Cynikka's first response, ignoring much of Dhaedrys’ advice.

“You and I both know it's far from that.”

“Right.” Cynikka whispered softly. “You want me to surrender my brother? To Emperor Schpood who would surely kill him. Did you yourself not pledge to serve him?”

“Sometimes… even the most devout have their crisis of faith.. you, are the crisis of my faith.”

My one dream, my only lover

Be runnin' up that road
Be runnin' up that volcano
Be runnin' up that Ashen Bastion (yo)

“If you and I, together, maybe we can convince Fluixon of surrender.”

Cynikka only shook her head, a twisted smile of derision on her lips. “No, my brother will never surrender. How funny, you desperately try to counsel him but he won't listen won't he? Still, Dhaedrys, you think if you devote yourself enough to him, he would cast his gaze on you. As I do.

It's too high a price, you're a fool to pay it.”

“I had no choice bit to pay with you. Still, you married your husband.. you have an heir. It seems that gamble you made paid better than mine.”

“I did.. what any daughter would. I do now now what any Queen would.”

The girls exhaled, shaky and hesitant. A sniffle echoed in the chamber, followed by a sigh and both taking deep breaths as both of them shed quiet tears.

“You haven't changed, Cyn.”

“Neither have you, I thought your travels might… Dissuade you from ever coming back to the fires of Dante. You came back but only to tempt me with freedom. It's treason, you know this. What am I to do with you, Dhae?”

The Queen rose, wiping her ash dusted hands on her coat. She helped the priestess to stand, unable to see her kneel for prayer.

“Have me executed, thrown into the Dreaded volcano,” Dhaedrys began to walk away from the altar and toward the flowing lava. “Or… follow me out of the tunnels. We can go to Pandora, there's an… unexplored island in the south. It has friendly neighbors. I have neither weapon nor armor. I, myself am at your hands, my fate in your mercy… I still have that don't I? Since I loved you once and you…”

“Once, a long time ago.”

“Do you think they will remember you a magnanimous queen? You’ll go down in history a villain, Cynikka.”

“So be it. Let it be recorded thus, I… I have been recognised by my family only as Queen of Infernus and not a daughter of Aculon. I had no making upon it, if I had, I would come with you. See the blue skies of the rich world, the greens and pastels of paradise. To live and die… as Cyn. But, I am Queen of Infernus, I will die a Queen.”

“You speak as if… the girl will never come before the Queen. Come with me, Cynikka. You don't need to die a villain.”

But Cynikka pushed Dhaedrys away, toward the mouth of the volcano as she stepped away from the crater. She scoffed, “If you wish to leave us so badly, just go. I won't stop you. Neither will my soldiers. You can walk out if you wish.”

“Cynikka.”

“Live in paradise. It doesn't concern me anymore.”

“Our fates can be changed. If it's set in stone we can just break it, Cyn.”

“That's funny coming from you, Dhae.”

“Please.”

“Go.”
Ooh, let me have it
Let me grab your soul away
You know it's me, Jophiel

Say, if I only could
I'd make a deal with Ish
And I'd get Him to swap our places

In the land of the setting sun, is a myth. Hunger and famine was no foreign concept to Westhelmians. One such myth was of Irissa and Laertyse. They say he was a king of the old world, back when the the Empire of Snow was at it's peak. During the First Great Famine, his house fell to ruin and even the great Lord Laertyse who has survived the skirmish of the jungle lands, was not saved from starvation.

It was in the second month of winter, it is said, that his wife and first lover, Lady Irissa, offered her flesh. Not in love making, for sustenance. No one could say whether he agreed but Lord Laertyse survived the winter of the First Great Famine.

The painter who was in the beginning of painting the Emperor's portrait could not help but liken him to the fabled Laertyse. The cannibal who feasted on his lover’s breast and dug out her heart, so offered to him in a silver platter. Emperor Schpood, drooping lazily on the lectus, had a hungry look about him. Not for food it felt, but something. His red robes were like dripping blood upon the firm flesh. Hair crisscrossing like a thousand cuts.

The painter continued, mixing black and white as he sketched, precious bread used to erase the silver of pencil lead. He looked again at Schpood, with sharp eyes steeped in amber glowing as if to feast. The painter followed Schpood's gaze to see the portrait of the dead Queen, a look that seemed to devour her. Mind and spirit. The hole by her heart was not yet fixed, but want as he might, as an artist, he did not say anything.

All of a sudden a cold gust of wind carried into the room from the ever open windows, the blinds had been removed. But who was a painter to comment on the state of the Emperor's room? But he felt it, a shift in the air.

“Leave.”

The painter took a moment to realise the word was an order, when Schpood's heavy gaze weighed on him he quickly packed his things and the unfinished portrait.

Schpood sighed, looking at Jophiel's portrait. If he thought she haunted him before, it was now she truly began. She simply stood there. Wordless, quiet. Floating an inch from the ground, a pale semi-translucent thing that followed him with blank haunting eyes. No longer a ‘zinged’ kind of blue.

More and more decayed by the day, her mouth a gaping hole of a hum only Schpood could hear. Black blood scabbed over her chest, the burns on her skin no longer, her skin just fell from the flesh and flesh fell from the bone. Schpood would watch her maggot eaten body be restored and eaten and decayed in cycle.

Schpood took a deep breath, the faint whiff of a corpse permeating his senses. A rancid thing that followed him, like a perfume. But the Emperor did not shy away from his queen's appearance, even though the portrait of ethereal beauty beside her was a stark contrast.

I've come home, I'm so cold

Oh, come on, darlin' (yo)
Let me steal this moment from you now

It was 5pyder who bore the letter, Saparata, looking half-dead behind his veil but clearly exhausted accepted it wordlessly. White limbs dragged as if weighed by led and, burning the letter upon receiving it. The ink burned to ash, words that said, My dearest brother… I am taking my peacekeepers to join Queen Cynikka… understand… my duty. A sacrifice… Protect yourself.. you are my brother still… does not speak of my love for you…do not stay… Westhelm protection…love, Zy..

5pyder didn't comment and just left the room. On his way out, the glimpse of white silver hair and fluttering wings behind his ears. The pure white veil, now grey marred with tears, suddenly reminded him of another who wore a veil. The priestess of Infernus, ever since his investiture he couldn't forget the blue eyes that watched the golden crown, second only to the Emperor's, be placed upon his head. 5pyder thought, ‘She lifted her veil to see my coronation with her own eyes… is that it?’

The new heir walked to his quarters, aside from his title and the deference given to him, although by some unwillingly, 5pyder's workload remained much the same. Reaching his new room, Emperor Schpood's when he himself was crown prince, 5pyder felt a weight burden his shoulder. And a piercing headache.

The scent of herbs soothed it somehow as he approached his desk where his old coot lay untouched. “Where is that coming from?” Rummaging through the pockets he found a sachet. Black and instantly remembered where he got it. Sighing, 5pyder slumped on the chair.

“Don't go.” The priestess tugged at his sleeve, 5pyder, who barely hoisted his work to Senator Bardun for a reprieve of air, volunteered to escort the Priestess out of the city. Not that she seemed to need it. He pulled her underneath the shade of the First Nativity Tree in the Royal Arboretum. She didn't complain.

“Go where, little priestess? You're the on leaving.”

5pyder received no further warning to his fortune.

“You're bat shit crazy, you know that?” He continued, trying to goad her and extend his precious minutes of peace. When he couldn't rile her, he resorted to, “That's a nice ring.” The consul pointed at the golden ring that resembled woven laurel leaves on her left ring finger. “It's pretty,” 5pyder continued before pausing, alarmed, “It looks Westhelmian, the craft.” He grabbed her hand and brought he ring closer to his face.

“It is, how did you know?”

“We are proud of our craft.”

“So you are.”

Dhaedrys slid to a seat by the roots of the tree, leisurely stretching her legs, ones that had been bound during her short stay in Westhelm's dungeons. She pulled her hand from his, putting the ring under the sun and letting it glitter. “It's my favourite, the prettiest of all my jewelry.”

“Huh, who would've thought, that simple thing? You're covered in dazzling jewels. But, you yourself are dazzling.”

“Your Emperor would have your head for flirting with me.”

5pyder only shook his head and grabbed her arm to pull her up. Skipolo had seen them from the high halls and shook his head as if to usher her gone. 5pyder, after that, only saw a brief glimpse of Lady Hex leaving. ‘Ah, that must be why…’

“It's lost it's pair.”

“What?” 5pyder asked, watching her raise her hand to the sun, veil covered face studying the sparkling ring. “Nothing.” She stood and allowed him to guide her out of the Arboretum, before they reached the end of the grove of trees, a mix of nativity and union trees, the one of marriages each beside their offspring nativity trees.

“There used to be a tree here.”

5pyder shot Dhaedrys a face that screamed ‘flabbergasted', once more and looked to where she pointed. But there was no tree, nor would there bee, Neither a union one, or a nativity one.

“When? There's never been.” 5pyder told her, shaking his head with a laugh nearly escaping her lips. ‘She's a foreigner. What would she know of Westhelm Tradition? That trees are planted at weddings or that saplings for the children of the Pendaris family inosculate beside their parents union tree.’

“A nativity tree.”

This time 5pyder couldn't help the scoff, half sounding a laugh. He began to pull her with him, away.

“The Emperor is childless.”

She looked 5pyder in the eye, the flimsy veil of pure silk slipping revealing bright blue eyes that seemed to burn like stars.

“Is he?”

When he snapped out of the memory, he squeezed the herb pouch the priestess had given him. He humoured her, in hindsight, glad that he did. It served to alleviate his headache now, but it returned again upon the shard knock on his door. The new prince stuffed the sachet in his pocket before clearing his throat, “Enter.”

“Prince, the scouts have returned.”

That day, both Emperor and his heir heard the report of Commonwealth raising it's arms for war. That day, an invitation arrived.

Ooh, let me have it
Let me grab your soul away
You know it's me, Jophiel

Say, if I only could
I'd make a deal with Ish
And I'd get Him to swap our places

In Commonwealth or what is left of it, Zekor greeted the Priestess of Infernus. Long straight hair the color of cornflowers growing by the meadows behind the Bingo's bakery. But the eerie air around her remained the same, the rings on her hands that she'd press when speaking, the dangling ruby earrings and the white diamond necklace.

‘Here I thought Yggdrasil was poor.’

He smiled, clearing throat. “Welcome back, Priestess.” Zekor watched the rubies dance as they dangle from her pointed headpiece, sharp and spiked. Resting on roots of blonde hair that faded blue. She reached out to him with her ink decorated hand and began to walk ahead.

“Where is your leader?” She asked, Zekor felt choked, in paper both he and SitzKrieg were leaders but of late it seems he'd taken second place. Especially after his humiliation from Westhelm.

“He walks beside you.”

She paused, turning a careful head to him and tilting in a way Zekor could see even behind her veiled face. “Does he? I shall speak to him.” After beats of unbearable silence, Zekor huffed and led her to SitzKrieg.

“The Empire of the setting sun seriously considers war,” Were what she told them, a hint of smugness Zekor thought he heard but couldn't press imbued in her tone. The priestess tossed a golden coin, a Westhelmian coin, with the etched face of the Emperor landing up. The coin twirled and circled before falling right on top of Commonwealth on the map.

“It is… Dante's wish for me to advice you.”

“Dante? Fluixon has lost his mind. Is he a foreign god now?” SitzKrieg scoffed at the Luminaran.

“Mind your tongue.”

“And your advice would be?”

“Either surrender willingly or leave.”

SitzKrieg bristled upon her words, swatting the golden coin out of the table. His hands slammed flat on the mahogany grain. Eyes of murky, lake blue stared defiantly. Wounded.

“Surrender? This Commonwealth. Why you foreign bit-”

“Finish that insult and you will never finish another.”

The tent grew tense, a guard drew his blade and pointed it to her. “No one threatens our leader without paying a price.” The silence grew more deafening with every passing second, a stalemate.

Then, SitzKrieg waved a hand and signaled his guard away. Sighing, he half-collapsed, resting his head on the table. He knew too, the Commonwealth no longer had the days of their old glory.

“Do you think the Emperor will come simply at your invitation?” Dhaedrys began, picking at the corner of the map. She continued, as if giving a sermon, “You know he's unpredictable. Does he care for rights and etiquette now?” The priestess scoffed, tearing a corner of the map away, the corner that depicted where Mykonos stood. “He will come with his army and slaughter you. Your forces as they stand won't be able to withstand him.”

“So, what is your advice then?” SitzKrieg uttered as he raised his head but refused to admit deference to the Yggdrasilian.

“Go seek refuge with others of a like mind. Infernus.”

Eventually, both Zekor and SitzKrieg were persuaded to join hands with Infernus. Dhaedrys turned to leave when they began to discuss another plan. A last one.

“If we're to fight them anyway, we ought to strike the first blow now, be it the Emperor who comes or one of his senators-” Zekor didn't even finish before a blur of black made a beeline to his side. A golden pin, he recognized from the pointed spikes of her headpiece pierced the table. Right between his fingers.

‘̴̩̐͐̕T̴͚̘̅͌̎͠h̷̛̖͉̹͆̒̈ͅį̶̳̱̗̉͂̆s̴̖͜͝ ̷̨̛̰̲̼̈́͒̉a̷͚͊̀͜c̶͎̱̭̪̉͗́ẗ̸̲̄͌ͅi̴̙͇̘̜̎͑̒͛ô̸̩͖̓̈́̌n̸̟͎͍̙̓͠ ̵̰̹̟̰̎̚w̴̧͙̤̄̎ḯ̴̗͇͍͜l̶̩̺̀̾̽̔l̸̛̻̯̆̚ͅ ̵̙̽͋͐̂ͅh̶̬̔͋̐a̷̛̟͚͓v̸̪̲̻̆͐͛́e̷̯̮͕͂ ̵̜̙͔̏̈́̽c̶͙̪̋ơ̷̙̺͋̈́̕͜ǹ̸͇̫̆̀̒s̸̱̟̪͔̄̿̽e̵̟̒́͠q̷͍̭̖̱̎͂̆͂ų̶̾͘e̴̛̪̎ņ̷̕ç̷̨̝̾̽͆e̵̥̣̼̔ś̶̼͕͓.̸̼͉̃͋̓’̵̢̱̙͎̆

The Priestess looked to SitzKrieg, holding the shocked Zekor in place with a hand placed gently on his arm. “You may yet survive but killing a guest will stain your name to the gods.” Her tone was pressed, a hint of anger in them as she stood straight.

“I urge you not to do that.”

“Why is that, priestess?”

“Do you often question gods command?”

“Your god, not mine.”

“A god all the same.”

Let me in your window

Come on, come on, darlin'
Let's exchange the experience (yo), oh, ooh, ooh

But the invitation had been sent.

Schpood's calloused hands trembled to tear the parchment apart but was stopped by cold and soft, translucent ones. A difficult choice had been presented before him, his son and heir volunteering to attend the enemy, knowing he may not return. Schpood did not give him leave at once, how could he?

The boy is his son in everything but blood.

“Don't send 5pyder… Don't be impatient, my Emperor. The opportunity will present itself in time, let commonwealth declare war.”

The Queen of Tricolour, in her haunting calmness counseled him. Still the threat of Knight Arcturus, who remained at large pressed on his throat like a thorn and the insult of the Commonwealth, he refused to ignore.

In the end, Emperor Schpood didn't need the Queen's advice, Lady Hex, Westhelm's Spymaster returned and informed him that SitzKrieg took his people and simply left. They'd abandoned their last stand, their pride and their precious Pandora.

It seemed Westhelm's Prince would survive to succeed his father's crown.

Schpood couldn't put his finger on it but he felt a shift in the winds of change. The storm taking a recourse.

I'm coming home to Tricolor, Westhelm
Trihelm

It's you and me
Won't be unhappy (yeah, yeah, yo)

It was shortly after that, a fresh news crossed the sea through Schpood's spies. SitzKrieg was found dead. And the, another.

“He's alive?”

“Like a cockroach, Emperor.”

At once, the scout that had made the report was dragged before the Emperor. A scruffy lad, of iron armour and cheap sandals. Ears pierced and eyes lined black. He knelt, more so kissed the Emperor's feet. “H-He is alive, Emperor. SitzKrieg is alive..in the flesh.” He was shaking, but had only told the truth.

“Did you also not testify days ago that he was dead? As sure as you are breathing. Did you fail and try to cover it up?”

The scout shook his head, fervently as he grabbed Schpood's robe. “No! No, no,no. Its true, Emperor.”

“So what, Ish raised him from the dead?” Schpood asked, pulling his robe with a sigh. 5pyder was tactful enough to pull the scout away and up to his feet. “Was SitzKrieg pious?”

“I-I do not know, Emperor.”

After a beat of silence, the scout looked towards the Prince. 5pyder merely shrugged, Schpood had his back towards them and no one could judge the Emperor's thoughts. Finally, with hint of a renewed vigour from his tongue, Schpood gave an order.

“I want you to go and confirm the details of this miracle. He was raised from the dead. By Ish…” He uttered, still in disbelief and, hope. It had been the answer he was waiting for. Silently, he thanked Exul.

‘It seems our patron god isn't blind, deaf or dumb. A good helping of blood did help stir him.’

“Wait, wait. No.” The scout turned back to the Emperor as the order was rescinded, he shifted his weight from foot to foot as he watched the Emperor press his hand over his face. “Relay that order, no. Summon the grand vizier. I will tell her myself.”

‘Ish may yet be compelled to bring the dead back to life.’

As the scout did as bid, 5pyder peaked a look at Schpood's face. He couldn't describe, a twisted joy and relief but also a shine of gluttony and glee he could mistake for sparks of madness.

“Ish, some say he's a new god. Some say he is the first one. The creator of the world. No matter. He is real and responds to which ever amuses him.” The Emperor murmured, the sun cast over his face made his eyes look a bloody red. 5pyder felt a chill strike him.

“Oh, there is answer in Pandora, 5pyder. There is a precedent. The enemy no less. But, we must grow Westhelm strong enough to take it.”

Let me in your window

Come on, come on, darlin'
Let's exchange the experience (yo), oh, ooh, ooh

Schpood once again found himself in the water gardens, the season of the pink blossoming flowers whose name he didn't know came to an end. Now it was only pools and fountains surrounded by plain trees.

“Still, there are more trees in your garden than there are in the entirety of Westhelm, my Queen. So, i hope it makes up for your longing of Pandora.”

His devotion or delusion as his twin would call it, refused to die even after everything else has begun to dying. His desire causing him to sink in the cool waters, face submerged. Desire creeping in underneath his skin as the azure waters washed over him. Between his crown and himself, the vows and the plans, security and danger. His love was harsh, overbearing, relentless, inconsolable, brutal, and prideful. Like an injustice refusing silence.

Schpood gasped, rising from the water after all his breath had been exhausted. Drops fell from his face, his soaked tunic weighing him down. For a brief moment when the air to his brain had lacked he envied the after life. The ground that covered her and her coffin that embraced her.

He sat in the pool for a while, it's waters crashing against his chest. “Jophiel… I… found some proof. Finally, that I can succeed. First I must find all the pieces of the old gods that I might hope to invoke Ish, a gift if you will to that capricious god. If it serves to entertain him, the texts say he may give something back in exchange.”

The Emperor grabbed a fallen, wilted flower, drifting cluelessly in the pool in his hand and crushed it. “So, I hope the fire I light catches his attention, if he refuses… well, he's the creator of this world, surely if it's destroyed he's bound to intervene.”

He left himself drift and float to the deeper side, the sound of cascading water drowning out the insects of the night that inhabited the trees that filled the garden. “I can see victory as clear as the full moon that stares at me now. Feel your kiss as vividly as these waters. Soon, my love.”

Schpood felt weightless, and cold, but it kept him awake for the third night in a row. He could almost imagine Jophiel running to him. Blonde locks free of their lace and pins, barefoot and free with a wide smile on her face as she leaps into his arms.

‘Bliss.’

She placed a gentle kiss upon his brow, whispering, “You are my sanctuary. The only place I know now.”

Schpood Pendaris was a man possessing too much love in his heart, just pent up like his rage. And he dedicated if all to Jophiel Theria.

I've come home, I'm so cold

Oh, come on, darlin' (yo)
Let me steal this moment from you now

One of the first tasks of the new Prince was to secure allies for Westhelm for the turmoil coming over the horizon. Boarding Al Qarasina's ship he watched the black flag with it's golden sun, hoisted up. At the age of eighteen, Prince 5pyder proved himself as much worthy of his title. The Al Qarasina pirates with it's history of enmity to the empire finally bent it's knee.

In the same day, Emperor Schpood took the plains of the Covenant from the small nations that tried to occupy it after it's inhabitants left, he also took those states under the banners of Westhelm, albeit more bloody than his heir's diplomatic ways. Within a fortnight, both Schpood and 5pyder secured a naval fleet and land territory for the empire.

Schpood, it's me, I'm Jophiel

Oh, come on, angel

In that same fortnight, the evidence of Fluixon's bribery at the rigged trial surfaced. The cracks made upon the glass finally shattered and wine spilled. Fluixion woke from a nightmare, cotton shirt soaked in sweat. His dark hair pricked his eyes and he pushed it back, The bunker was quiet, even as he stepped out into the hallway. The other rooms, of smaller beds remained closed.

“Covenant was propagating anti Pandora propaganda, which is ridiculous.”

“Yeah we didn't agree with that, Yggdrasil never had beef with you guys. It was really just the covenant.”

Fluixon pulled his hair to wake himself more, stumbling into the small kitchen which was better equipped than their bedrooms. Stashes of non-perishable goods and water bottles filled box upon box. He grabbed a bottle, twisting the cap open haphazardly, cursing as he spilled water on himself.

“They can see that Yggdrasil is gearing up to invade us. Then atleast they'll know I tried to warn them when Yggdrasil comes and kills us all.”

Then, he noticed a figure by the corner. Frozen like a deer.

“Dhaedrys?”

“Yes?” She answered, a squeak. Unusual from her usual calm and confident, borderline riddle-like answers. She pressed herself to the corner, holding something behind her. “What is that?”

“Nothing.”

Eyes of rich purple narrowed as he took slow and careful steps towards her. “Show it to me.” He couldn't see clearly beneath the black veil, the darkness didn't help and he regretted not turning the lights on. Fluixon was fairly certain she had shaken her head.

“Dhaedrys.”

He heard her sigh, a defeated one before meekly showing him what she had hidden behind her. To his surprise, it wasn't a blade meant to ambush him but a tin of brownies. Her fingers curled around the box and he couldn't help but laugh. “I'm not gonna take it from you.”

“T-that's not why I-” She protested, stepping towards him as if to shove the box of sweets in his arms. Fluixon shook his head, wondering if her stuttering meant she was embarrassed. If she was blushing underneath her mask of a veil. The thought reminded him of someone and the smile was wiped from his face.

“Flux?”

He snapped his head back to her, she'd called his name. His. Not the strange one she insisted on.

“I'm fine.”

“But the Covenant was coming to invade us right?”

“Honestly probably not. I think they were just trying to scare you guys.”

At the ringing words in his head, of the Senator in iron armour. The blue cross tiles on the floor that had followed him from his nightmares, he grabbed her wrist and squeezed. The brownie she meant to offer him, as well as the handkerchief she held it with fell to the floor.

“Why didn't you tell me anything?”

“I- what?”

“You're manipulating me-” If his tight grip had hurt her, she didn't complain. Fluixon released her, eyes studying her. Clicking his tongue, he turned away and began to rummage the boxes, leaving Dhaedrys bewildered, and regretful of her wasted brownie.

‘She came after the conspiracy was pulled off… After Saps escaped his trial. I need to calm down, nothing she did could have affected anything.’

He put a box of chocolates a top her tin of brownies, said no apology and left.

Ooh, let me have it
Let me grab your soul away

I'd be runnin' up that road
Be runnin' up that volcano
With no problems

Dhaedrys stood there, only snapping out of her shock when the box of chocolates began to slip away. Watching Fluixon walk away, his walk seemed like that of a man under all manner of suffering.

Perhaps it had been foolish honesty or his paranoia that haunted him or the great unresolved love. Dhaedrys only sighed, index finger fiddling with the edge of the chocolate box. She slinked back to the room given her, surprisingly the second in space in the whole bunker with the softest best. With whose consideration, she didn't know who to thank. She pressed her ear against the wall, the one besides was Fluixon's. She wondered if he was pacing again, the muffled sound of footsteps confirmed her suspicion.

Suddenly, the only conversation, if it could be called that, she had with Emperor Schpood rang in her mind.

“Foolish child, you know nothing of love.”

Schpood, it's me, I'm Jophiel
I've come home, I'm so cold
Let me in your window

I'd be runnin' up that road
Be runnin' up that volcano
With no problems

Fluixon, a prince of the ancient House of Aculon, the Blood of Sovereigns, who survived The Fall, had become deposed President over night. A fugitive. As the sound of distant war drums rang behind him, like phantom lullabies rocking the measly boat he escaped in, Fluixon found himself escaping to the lands he'd deemed destructive.

He and his crew, who followed him into exile, traversed the cruel seas to reach the barren Yggdrasil. Only then, did the grueling journey to reach Infernus begin. The night was unhesitatingly cold but the day that greeted them as they trudged through the dry, rocky wilderness was hot without abandon.

He couldn't help but think if his fears had brought forth the hell fire upon him, this tragedy of a self-fulfilling prophecy. A desire that cost him everything and gave him nothing in return.

With every step, Fluixon's thoughts spiraled.

‘I only… but I didn't mean to…’

“I only… wanted to protect Pandora..”

‘The paradise I found after the collapse of my House.’

“Was it so wrong… to be sure…”

‘I had to make sure we wouldn't be making unnecessary sacrifices-’

And yet the fallen prince found himself breathless and weary, running from the very people he had claimed to protect. It shattered his belief and, ‘Did I make a mistake? The same mistake my father made?’

“To sacrifice the King for the rest of his pawns to live. That's the chess I decided to play… by flipping the board..”

‘It was a mistake.’

“How poetic, I am… my father's son.”

I've come home, I'm so cold

I'd be runnin' up that road
Be runnin' up that volcano
With no problems

“This place is hell. Literally.” Thomas exclaimed, the first night in Infernus he thought the night would be similar to the wilderness but he was met only with heat. A blazing, thick, infernal heat. Yet the people of the volcano continued on, unbothered, drinking coffee and wearing their coats.

Huffing, and downing the last of his water, that became warm too, he headed towards Flux's room. The door was left ajar. Faint voices came from the window, Infernus kept their windows open like holes in the wall.

From the crack ob the door, Thomas saw FLuixon, seated upon a block of rock carved to the likeness of a chair, or molten to be one. It was grotesque that he didn't know which. Dhaedrys was standing, dressed in black looming over Fluixon like a reaper.

“It's a gift.”

“A bracelet?” Thomas could imagine Flux's furrowed brows. He rarely accepted gifts, especially jewelry. ‘Calls them impractical-'

“Thank you, Dhaedrys.”

‘He accepted it?!’

There was a clang, the sound of wood splintering and hitting the floor. Thomas couldn't see clearly but from the cracks, Fluixon had stood. Still, Dhaedrys stood taller than he. He grabbed the back of her head by the hair.

“Will you betray me priestess?”

“Will you give me reason to lose faith in you?” She answered with a returned question.

The unbearable Infernus heat did not help the silence that seemed to stretch on before Flux let her go, kissing the tip of her hair. “No. So, don't even think of betraying me.”

When he heard footsteps coming towards the door, Thomas quickly rounded the corner to hide, only to bump into Cynikka. The Queen too, from the window, witnessed everything.

I've come home, I'm so cold
Let me in your window

And if I only could
I'd make a deal with Ish
And I'd get Him to swap our places

The reunion of the blood of Aculon was… nonexplosive.

The ever burning fire in Cynikka's study continued to burn, even as Fluixon continued to sprinkle water and wine upon the flames.

“Stop that.”

“I want her dead.”

Cynikka tilted her head, ink pooling on the document she was handling when she heard her brother's words. “Who, this time?” She asked, as if only to humour him. “The Priestess.” At this, the quill in the Queen's hand snapped. “No. Do you hear yourself? Why, even?” Cynikka tried to breath, the sweltering heat of the air calmed her.

This time, Flux turned to face her, the wooden chair creaking in protest at being forcefully turned. “Because… she may yet abandon us.” And he stopped, observing his sister. Any other argument and she would've continued working, disinterested but she had stopped, watching him with careful grey eyes, like the smoke of her precious volcano.

“No, don't harm her.”

‘Come to think of it… they're both crazy about this volcano.’

“Why do you want her to live?” He asked, twisting the question. His feet held the crux of the chair as he tilted it. Head tilted in amusement. “It must be true then… You're her ardent follower, I hear.” He continued, smirking at Cynikka's twisted expression.

“Careful brother. You're in my kingdom, I remind you.”

“Yes, yes.” Flux mused, raising his hands in surrender but his cheeky, knowing smile only served to vex his older, unrecognized sister. “Don't say I didn't warn you.

“Don't forget, our father fell to actions of one traitor. Will you follow in his footsteps?”

Flux sneered as he answered, “No, but it seems you're the one defending a possible traitor.”

Cynikka shot her half-brother a glare, hand slamming on her desk. “What would you know of our father? You were lucky to survive because you were away. You were barely a boy when he ruined our House.”

“I certainly know more than you. A child he refused to acknowledge.”

“Fluixon!”

The faint sound of the flickering flames, licking oxygen out of the air. The siblings stared each other down. Fluixon's breathing were heavier than hers, both the thickness of the ash and heat filled air and the altitude. But it was the pressure the Queen exerted that made it difficult to breathe.

“My dearest brother,” She began, much too sweetly to be said sincerely, “You leave home… to be warded by one of the best Houses… You really were lucky after The Fall.” She shook her head at him, the roll of her eyes more prickling than the unsaid insult. “... and become god knows what on the other side of this world. No letters, no nothing. And then you come back and bring war upon me. You're lucky I love you.”

To this, Fluixon said, “You've gotten soft, sister.”

“And you were careless, so what does that make you?”

“You didn't answer me, Cynikka. Why do you defend her?”

“You deflected first. She is my High Priestess- Infernus's High Priestess, who has gone out of her way to help you. Surely, can't be paranoid and ungrateful at the same time, Flux. Heed her warning, if you know what's good for you.”

“I am not paranoid, Cynikka. I'm being careful which is less than I can say for you, I'm surprised you even made it this far. I don't care if she's your priestess or your mistress. But she knows too much. She is too close. To you… and me. She's dangerous.”

Suddenly, a flicker of understanding passed through the Queen's eyes. Lit up by the raging fire that slowly came to a calm.

“Ah, that's it, isn't it? It wasn't about Dhae.”

“Of course it was.”

“It was about Saparata.”

“Don't twist my words, Cynikka!”

“But it is true. You keep thinking yourself the likeness of our father but in truth, you are the traitor. You've committed the biggest of betrayals by putting a target on Saparata's back.”

Huffing, Flux pushed the chair away, storming to his sister's table and slamming his palms against the rough stone table. “This is an outrage. But I can't say I'm surprised at you throwing whatever you can at me just to deny admitting I'm right. You have a taste for it.

You hide your jealousy so well now that your former lover is on my side. I have to admit sis, green doesn't look good on you...” He smiled to rile the Queen, or tried to, the mention of Saps had his figure brought constantly to his minds eye. “But, Dhaedrys sought me out, Cynikka. She came to me on her own accord.”

With that, Flux turned to leave. “I did not give you leave.” And he froze in place, hand almost at the door handle. “We're not done. Sit.” Like a petulant boy, Flux did as was told, back to the chair he had spurned earlier.

“Do you realise what you've done, Flux?”

He merely tilted his head, thinking back to the last words he said as the shadows that loomed over Cynikka's face darkened her gaze.

“The Conspiracy! By Dante, Flux! You haven't even given me an explanation! Much less an apology!”

“And why would I apologise to you? I admit I was overzealous, but it was done as a precaution.”

Cynikka scoffed, standing finally. Even as she had to look up to look her brother in the eye, her fierceness didn't diminish.

“You fool.” she intended to speak loud and clear but the words came out an uttered whisper. Flux's eyes narrowed as he looked down on her. “You can call me many things but not that.”

“I'll call you however I want. It's true. You're worse than that, you planned the deaths of innocent people.”

“And prevented an invasion on my island.”

‘If only I still have the Operation Schpood plans, I'll wave it to her face.’

“And brought it upon me, your sister.”

“Yes, my half-sister. A Queen.”

“No thanks to you.”

The Queen sighed, drawing back and stepping past him towards the roaring fire. There were many things left unsaid for the years she was parted from her brother. Still, now even more.

“And now… when the world finds out what you've done.. we'll have weeping friends banging at our gates. Brothers in want of.. Justice. Already I can hear them cursing your name.”

“Let them curse. They wouldn't understand.”

“But I understand, brother.” Queen Cynikka sighed, looking at her brother whose gaze never cast to the floor. Only ahead. Always ahead. “After all I've done for you. All I am yet to do. You… feckless, self-assured, mistrustful- but you are my brother. Much as it's burdened me.”

“Then just kick me out, Cynikka! Why even let me in when you disapprove so much?!”

“And what?! Let what's left of my family be wiped out! You've no idea the viciousness of the monster you woke when you killed the Queen of Tricolor. Did you even think of your days as a ward of House Theria when you commanded her death be so? I hope, somewhere in there,” Cynikka jabbed her finger against his chest, where his heart should be. “I hope you regret it. After all, she must've been like a sister to you in all that time and if you can kill her…”

‘What about me?’

“It wasn't me personally-”

“It was by your orders! Why do you keep playing dumb when I'm trying to help you?! We are all that's left! We must keep surviving!” By this point, his sister raised her voice and grabbed him by the jaw, her thumb an fingers squeezing.

“The survival that we bought with our father's blood!”

When his cheek turned pale, Queen Cynikka released him. Blood rushed back, turning his skin pink. The marks of her nails remained crescent on his face.

“Why didn't you ask me, if you were so unsure? You could've reached out-”

“I didn't even know you survived, until after the wretched borders fell. You know where I heard it from? Criminals!” Flux was quick to answer, massaging his jaw. “And, would you have been privy to the plans of other nations as well? Would you have declared war against them if they raised their banners to consume Pandora? I know you, Cynikka. You're as passive as they come. A weak ruler-”

The sting came before the resounding sound of a slap.

Fluixon merely scoffed, trying to hide how shaken he was.

“And don't pretend your hands are clean either Cynikka. You ordered the slaughter of an entire group of people… even if they deserved it. Even if you don't harbor me, they will come for you and your people. So, you see? Strike me as you wish, we made the same decisions.

We are siblings after all.”

“Reckless boy.”

“No. I only did what our father should've done. I've learned from his mistakes, sis. You don't see me blindly trusting others like you do. If he were alive-”

“Our father is dead! Because of his mistakes! Not others! You are the one who doesn't understand!” Cynikka reached out for her brother's face, caressing it gently as if to soother her earlier outburst.

“You are just like our father, Flux.”

Ooh, let me have it
Let me grab your soul away
You know it's me, Jophiel

Say, if I only could
I'd make a deal with Ish
And I'd get Him to swap our places

The 7th day of October on the year of the death of Tricolour's Queen Jophiel of House Theria, Emperor Schpood Pendaris of House Caesar of Westhelm officially declared war.

“Have you heard? The Emperor has declared war.”

“I always knew Westhelm would be the first to do so… even among our rough Yggdrasilian nations.”

“But… No, he is not flying the banners of Westhelm. Do you know what he calls it? His new banner?”

“By Ish, pray tell.”

“Trihelm.”

Let me in your window

Unaware I'm tearin' you asunder (yeah, yeah, yo)

It was also in the tenth month that the first son of House Theria, Saparata the Conciliator, was vindicated. The false accusations against him proven false for all the world to see. And, it was under his mediation that doves were sent to every stronghold, castle, city and peoples of Yggdrasil. The birds of peace flew bearing a simple message, and more a plea from the ink under Saparata's nails.

Emperor Schpood Pendaris of House Caesar of Westhelm… wishes for allies…to his cause. To sue for peace… or surrender.

In truth, even the Conciliator jumped through hoops merely to convince Emperor Schpood to grant the people a warning of sorts, a chance to make his plan proceed with the least bloodshed possible.

‘I can't believe I had to use Jophiel's name…’

But Saparata's efforts to intervene underestimated Yggdrasilian fierceness and vitriol. The response of Starlyn's King XAlzi came before any other.

Does the Emperor of Westhelm not have hands? He may come take Starlyn himself if he dares.

Soon, the whispers followed.

“A lion could never conceal his hunger. Perhaps, Emperor Schpood's love for Queen Jophiel is merely pretext for his war.”

Upon hearing what was said, the Emperor was seen breaking a national treasure, an urn of his grandfather. He turned to the senator that had dared say the same sentiment, even if it was eloquently put.

“You insult me, you insult me deeply.” He said, sword unsheathed and poised to cut.

It was only with 5pyder's intervention that the noble man escaped with his tongue still attached to his body.

“Father,” 5pyder paused, the word still awkward in his vocabulary. “Janus just arrived.” This news was effective enough to dispel the Emperor's anger. Schpood smiled and made his way to greet the boy who spent has his time growing in Westhelm.

“He may be Benji's son, but the boy may as well be a son of Westhelm.”

Let me in your window

Come on, come on, darlin'
Let's exchange the experience (yo), oh, ooh, ooh

By the end of the day, the two heirs, 5pyder and Janus, walked the streets of Westhelm both basking under the glow of the setting sun. By coincidence, shortly after passing the postal office, Janusapolis, found themselves by the now completed statue of Queen Jophiel. Stark in the midst of the plaza. She still had copper weaved flowers offered by her feet and incensed oil.

“She's with uncle Benji now…” 5pyder began, “I'm.. sorry for your loss.”

Janus nodded, his thanks coming from a murmur and then, laying paper flowers by the queen's feet, “But I don't think she's with my father… She is frozen in time. We, the living must go on.”

Schpood, it's me, I'm Jophiel

Oh, come on, angel

“War is coming.” The Prince of Elysium, yet to be formally acknowledged as the new Archon said.

The Prince of Westhelm, who rose from Consul to Heir Apparent said otherwise, “It's already here.”

I'm coming home to Tricolor, Westhelm
Trihelm

It's you and me
Won't be unhappy (yeah, yeah, yo)

After careful preparation, Westhelm through Tricolour was able to ensnare some Pandora nations to form an alliance under the guise of besieging Infernus.

“I mean… It is true, but-”

5pyder tiptoed around Schpood's door. Looking out from the window as the forces of the Great Alliance gathered, he guessed what historians might say, the gathering of the largest force assembled by both islands.

“Exul only knows… How many of us may live to tell the tale.”

Ooh, it gets dark, it gets lonely
On the other side from you

Oh, there is thunder in our hearts (yeah, yeah, yo)
Is there so much hate for the ones we love? (Yeah, yeah, yo)

Lady Hex took in the sight of the Ashen Bastion, she had been sent to deliver a message. The last message before the carnage. As she continued her ascent up the harsh, torrid volcano, a sudden warning rang in her mind clearer than day. It was a memory of priestess the day she took her back to Westhelm.

Bandaging the younger girl's back Hex blew on the skin the boiling water had scalded. The priestess hadn't said another word. It wasn't until they had to settle for the night, around the fire Hex had lit to keep them warm that she spoke.

"You shouldn't save him, you know?"

"I beg your pardon?"

'What is she trying to get at now?'

The priestess's emerald eyes, looked red with the fire light. An eerie bright red like the blazing sun. "You know who I speak of."

Hex scoffed, shaking her head letting her long hair loose from the braid as she settled for the night. "I told you, I won't play your games."

To her surprise, the priestess grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her, "Listen to me!" In the fragment of a second, Hex pulled Dhaedry's hands away from her and had the tip of the blade under the priestess's chin. “Be careful. I may mistake it for an attack.”

“I'm only trying to spare you from pain.”

“Why?”

The better question would've been what pain.

The priestess met hard amber eyes, the wings behind her ears fluttering and then, drooping below.

“No reason.”

The spymaster laughed, drawing her dagger away, with a drop of Dhaedry's blood at the tip. As she put it back in it's sheath she thought, ‘Lie. I doubt it. There's no such thing. Everyone has a motive.’ Hex pushed her away, the glinting golden ring catching her attention.

“You best not return to Westhelm again.”

“And if I do? Would my death be with fire like your mother? Or boiling water like the your enemies?”

Hex bristled, then unconsciously fiddled with her earring. But because Schpood forbade her from harming the girl, she held herself back.

“And where did you get such slanders?”

“In a dream.”

The Priestess turned to the flames, sitting huddled beside it. Hex sighed, in relief thanking whatever god could hear her at the moment for the strength not to simply kill the girl and mask her ‘disappearance’ as some accident. She thought their tiresome conversation was over when, “Did you regret it?”

By then, Hex laid down by her makeshift bed and ignored the girl. Only the crackling fire and the hissing of the sap from the burning wood could be heard before Dhaedrys spoke again.

“You will kill me.”

Hex's musing was cut as soon as she reached the gate of the fortress. Unfortunately, she was refused entry even though she was an official messenger. Before she turned to leave, she caught a glimpse of the girl who bore the late queen's face on one of the turrets of the Ashen Bastion. Like a ghost watching her. Schpood's voice rang in her head, the likeness of the sun of Westhelm dangling from her ear like the one of her brother's, "Come down now if they won't receive you. I'll send Skipolo to meet you halfway."

"No need, better to keep him by your side. I can handle myself, Schpood." Handing the Emperor's letter to the sentry, she began a long climb down.
I've come home, I'm so cold

I'd be runnin' up that road
Be runnin' up that volcano
With no problems

Not every room of Infernus had a mirror. Strangely enough, the one given to it's Priestess upon her return was without. Whether it was punishment or the otherwise, Dhaedrys did not complain. By late morning, she found herself borrowing the mirror in Fluixon's room. She hissed, cursing the tangles knots in her hair.

“Here,” Dhaedrys would recognize his accent anywhere, even through the unusual soft way he spoke. She gasped, thinking it would hurt, when he began to tug at her hair causing Flux to freeze, “Does it hurt, Dhaedrys?”

“No, I thought it would.”

Fluixon took the comb from her hand and quietly began to work out the knots with his fingers, running the comb gently through her hair. The dye had washed off from the sulfur in Infernus's waters.

“You dyed it..” Flux said, but more to himself, combing his fingers through the now pale blond hair. Like morning sunshine. Like Jophiel's.

‘If it were a shade lighter… then like Sap's hair.’

“Thank you, you've… gentle hands.”

“And not blood stained?” Fluixon asked with a faint smile, half mocking. Even after he had untangled what troubled her, he continued on to comb the rest of her hair. Using his foot to pull one of the chairs, he settled behind her, enjoying the way his hands carded through the long, silk like locks of spun gold.

“Whatever blood on them, you've marred on my hair.”

“Red does look good on gold.”

It took longer than was necessary until he was satisfied, handing the copper comb back and smiling at her with their reflections. It was a rare moment of comfort.

“Do you still think you're right, Fluixon?”

He turned to her, deep purple eyes probing for clarification.

“Was it worth the price?”

“Ah, that…” Flux shook his head, gingerly playing with the tips of her hair, still stained a cornflower blue. Like ink stains on a white dress refusing stubbornly to be washed off. “I paid the price without knowing what I was paying for.”

It was then, Dhaedrys turned to him, the thin, black veil swishing softly but still kept her face hidden from him.

“You will succeed… you already have.”

‘Speaking in riddles again.’

“Will I? Even when my plans fell through.”

“It's not over yet. You shouldn't forget who you are.”

‘Is she going to call me Dante again?’

“I am… the Architect of the Conspiracy.”

She caressed his cheek and leaned in, her forehead touching his just barely and she whispered, “And my herald. You portent of peace.”

“You still speak in riddles, sweet one. Tell me plainly.”

“I've spoken plainly as I can, my Dante.” She kissed his forehead instead, palms raised as if to cradle his face, but her hands never touched him. “Gods bless you, Architect of the Conspiracy.”

I've come home, I'm so cold
Let me in your window

And if I only could
I'd make a deal with Ish
And I'd get Him to swap our places

While the forces of the Great Alliance gathered in the Colosseum and prepared their arms, banners and made their speeches, Infernus too begun to prepare.

“Why won't you let me stand at your side?”

Fluixon looked over his shoulder, seeing the Priestess holding a sword in hand.

“It's not in my authority to ask you to risk your life.”

“But you have authority over the others? You'll let them fight beside you. I love you as much as they do, Dante.”

“Yes, but… you aren't part of the Conspiracy.”

But Fluixon couldn't find it in himself to tell her a partial truth, so he only told her a half lie.

‘I see Saps and Hex in you… though I doubt you'd you'd know who they are. That's why I no longer.. want you to die.’

“That's why… please hide in the inner sanctum until everything is over. I'll send Thomas for you when it's safe Sa-” The ‘p' barely left his lips. Flux bit his tongue at the mishap. Dhaedrys didn't answer, she knew he wasn't calling her. She simply tilted her head, asking him to go on. But even that simple, unrelated action reminded Fluixon of Saparata. She tilted her head with the same mannerisms, at a certain angle. To the right, just right.

‘Perhaps it's useless to try to save her… this brief moment of guilt won't lessen what I did to Saps nor change things. But I could never go back to save the real Saps.’

He touched her veil, feeling the silk tulle between his fingers.

‘Black. For mourning. Pure black as opposed to the pure white veil Saparata preferred. Strange that I remember Saps in her but they're nothing alike.’

The Aculon Prince would never admit but he had grown a little bit of affection for the strange, comely girl.

‘I guess she's grown on me.’

“You're not mine to command.”

“Why not?” She protested, marching over to him. He could almost see the indignation from her tone. “I don't understand, did I not follow you? Did I not serve you well enough.” A desperation as she grabbed the fabric of his shirt. His freshly polished armour ready for wear sat forgotten.

“Dante in the flesh.” She had told him the first time they met.

“You did. So you'll serve me after. There must be one of us left to tell our side of the story.”

He placed a gentle, placating hand on her shoulder and smiled. A touch real and, a touch pleading.

Fluixon thought, ‘She might be spared on account she wasn't involved in the first plans. Please, let me try to save atleast one person.’

“And, pray for us Dhaedrys. The gods seem to love you.”

“Pray? I can do more for you with a blade in my hand!”

“You're a priestess, your prayers may hold more weight than ours.” He took her hand in his and raised it to kiss her knuckles. “Pray earnestly for me.”

I pine a lot, I find the lot

You
It's you and me

“She'll be in that inner sanctum? And you want me to leave your side after battle for her?” Flux could almost see the question marks written all over Thomas's face.

“Given that you survive.”

The first time the Engineer and the Priestess were left together he asked, “Can I call you Rhys?” Without missing a beat, she refused. Even stopping in the midst of prayer to answer him.

“Why not?”

“It's someone else’s name, I get confused when people call that name. If they mean me or the other.”

“Ah..” Thomas merely replied and the awkward air quickly returned. Tapping his nail against the wooden floor, he closed his eyes and leaned his head against the door frame opting to rest instead, with what precious time they have left.

Suddenly, she picked up the dried up small talk. “Do you want some?” Cracking his eyes open, he saw her offering him cookies drizzled with syrup. After a moment of deciding,. Thomas nodded and reached out to take one, before his fingers could touch the cookie, “It's laced with drugs, by the way. The cookie and the maple syrup.”

He stopped, gawking at her.

“And you offer it like a normal treat?”

“Well, it is a treat in both senses.”

Despite his earlier surprise, the both of them ended up binging in cookie laced drugs.

“I'm guessing you got this from the cartel?”

“Mhm… I wonder if they listened to my warning. Poor Neptune and his sugar cane.”

But Thomas while understanding her words, was too high to care.

But, he wasn't too strung up to ask, “You claim to love him… but you don't act like someone who wants to be with Flux.” Thomas turned to her, head swimming. The sunlight swirled around her head, like a halo.

Dhaedrys snorted, licking the maple syrup off her fingers.

“You don't ask the sun to shine only for you.”

And in that moment, Thomas realised they were in the same sinking ship.

“Only you would understand my sentiment, Thomas.”

Let me in your window

Come on, come on, darlin'
Let's exchange the experience (yo), oh, ooh, ooh

The armies of Westhelm began it's march to Infernus. But Yggdrasil was harsh as it was barren. “At this rate, this godforsaken land will kill us long before those Infernus bastards do.”

“Why must we do this again?”

“Remember the Queen, who gave us barley and cured meats. Who wept for us, who loved us.” One man whispered, and the grumblings ceased.

They told me I was going to lose the fight

Be runnin' up that volcano

The sound of snipping behind her had Cynikka's heart racing. The tips of her fingers cold and clammy. Dhaedrys stood behind her, cutting the Queen's long dark hair carefully. Afterwards, she gathered it up, wrapped in a cotton handkerchief. Blue eyes collided with ash grey as she raised the cut bundle of hair. Cynikka's hand went to her now shoulder length hair.

Cynikka clutched the wrapped bundle, nails almost piercing the fabric. Dhaedrys took it from her hands. The Queen of Infernus's hair grown from years of of no confrontations, cut and to be sent to the enemy with one conflict.

“We are at the point of no return, Dhae.”

“May Dante be with you, Cyn.”

Ooh, let me have it
Let me grab your soul away

I'd be runnin' up that road
Be runnin' up that volcano
With no problems

It was Dhaedrys who helped Fluixon don his armour. The shirt underneath was embroidered with the crest of the fallen House he came from. It was crude and crooked but the prince did not point out how ugly her work was since she was familiar with armour.

Lastly, she brought a piece of bread to his lips. A last meal Infernians had said, although their last meal was anything but bread. Brown bread before was a Westhelmian tradition. Fluixon didn't even think to be offended, feeling at least, he was being given a send off of sorts. One that regular soldiers received, with the expectation of victory and return.

“Thank you… Dhaedrys.”

I've come home, I'm so cold
Let me in your window

And if I only could
I'd make a deal with Ish
And I'd get Him to swap our places

That night, Emperor Schpood's tent was besieged by a nightmare.

He looked down to see his chest cut open and Jophiel's name carved on his ribs. But he felt no pain, only relief. Looking ahead, he found himself in a forest, Tricolour's forest. Similar to his previous nightmares disguised as dreams. In the distance, he saw Jophiel.

Her dress no longer pastel, vivid or rich colours. It was black. A black gown with it's embroidery and layers, black pearl and spinel sewn in glittering like crushed jewels sprinkled over her.

All sorts of pink flowers surrounded her, from common pinks to peonies. Schpood began to run to her, not minding the way his guts spilled upon sacred ground. His blood and flesh trailing his path. But he could never get to hear, just close enough to see her tears and her lips forming words he couldn't hear.

He stopped, it was the same dream over and over.

The Emperor was shaken awake by the only person who could be in his room unguarded. The grand vizier, Lady Hex. She no longer asked what the dream was about, sometimes they bled into hers from the number of times her twin had told her what it was.

“Schpood?”

“Help me… Rem.” But even his big sister who has always been able to find a way could not save him from Jophiel's ghost. Or his own heart.

“I'm still there. In that damned forest, in that back garden. I'm in still in the altar of the wedding that never got to happen. I'm still stuck. Still waiting for her at the end of the altar. And she… she ran out of the church. She left me at the altar, Rem.”

And the world stopped spinning at that time for Schpood, the groom frozen in time.
Let me in your window

Say, if I only could
I'd be runnin' up that volcano
With no problems

5pyder and Hex watched the doctor tend to the Schpood who collapsed just before dawn.

“My diagnosis..” The doctor shook his head, he could not meet the eyes of either the Prince or Grand Vizier, “..it is wound of the heart and an affliction of the mind, both have no cure. Both, the Emperor has been cursed to endure.”

5pyder's usually closed upper eyes narrowed at the doctor, grabbing him by the arm as he tried to leave the Emperor's tent. All six of his eyes open from frustration. “Speak clearly. An affliction of the mind?”

“The Emperor is mad, in the clinical sense.”

5pyder's eyes popped wide open, a panic surging within him. Grabbing the doctor by neck, he ordered, “Speak of this to no one! Swear it! On Exul's head, swear it.” But even though shaking and covered in cold sweat, the doctor refused.

It wasn't until Hex patted 5pyder's back that he let go. Lady Hex gently helped the doctor up after his knees had him falling to the floor.

“I'll handle it, 5pyder. Stay with Schpood.”

Schpood, it's me, I'm Jophiel
I've come home, I'm so cold

Schpood woke up around sunset, 5pyder followed him out of the tent as the Emperor insisted, stubbornly that he was fine. Reaching the hill, overlooking the camp of soldiers dotting the hill like ants, Schpood pointed at the setting sun over the horizon.

“There is an old wives tale about our banner,” Schpood said, eyes cast onto the sky that began to turn a strange pink as the sun vanished from sight. Like that before a typhoon, calm and strangely beautiful. “That just like the sunset, the empire is bound to fall.”

The Emperor laughed, to mock the tale. He pounded his fist against the Westhelm symbol of his chest plate. “But I am the sun. As Jophiel is mine. That sun does set, but rises each time. So will we.”

The heir to the Westhelm throne learned many truths during that twilight.

‘Emperor Schpood believes Queen Jophiel is guiding him.. It's his love for her that's keeping him resolute. He would die and kill over and over if it means living a little with her. King Gabory was right. No one can ever compete with the perfection of the dead.’

The next sunset the battle that takes place would be later known in history as the beginning of the Conquest of Yggdrasil. The bloodiest battle in history.

Chapter Text

Regarding the songs, Wuthering Heights and Running Up That Hill by Kate Bush, this is the first work in the series that features a mashed up lyrics. Originally the only one was Yellow (A Seraphim and Jophiel centered one). Anyway, I structured the lyrics in a way that presents Wuthering Heights as being sang/said by Jophiel to Schpood but from Jophiel's point of view. RUTH on the contrary is said/sang by Schpood to Jophiel from Schpood's pov and in some parts can be interchangeable. And another meaning which is one imagines what the other is saying but it's actually what they are saying. WU by Jophiel but it describes Schpood vice versa.

Idk if that made sense. I'll paste the lytics down. After followed by other funfacts.

Out on the wily, windy moors
We'd roll and fall in green

It doesn't hurt me (yeah, yeah, yo)
Do you wanna feel how it feels? (Yeah, yeah, yo)

You had a temper like my jealousy
Too hot, too greedy

Do you wanna know, know that it doesn't hurt me? (Yeah, yeah, yo)
Do you wanna hear about the deal that I'm making? (Yeah, yeah, yo)

How could you leave me
When I needed to possess you?

You
It's you and me

I hated you, I loved you, too

And if I only could
I'd make a deal with Ish
And I'd get Him to swap our places

Bad dreams in the night

Be runnin' up that road

They told me I was going to lose the fight

Be runnin' up that volcano

Leave behind my Tricolor, Westhelm
Trihelm

Be runnin' up that Ashen Bastion

Schpood, it's me, I'm Jophiel
I've come home, I'm so cold
Let me in your window

Say, if I only could, oh

Schpood, it's me, I'm Jophiel

You don't wanna hurt me (yeah, yeah, yo)

I've come home, I'm so cold

But see how deep the lava burns (yeah, yeah, yo)

Let me in your window

Unaware I'm tearin' you asunder (yeah, yeah, yo)

Ooh, it gets dark, it gets lonely
On the other side from you

Oh, there is thunder in our hearts (yeah, yeah, yo)
Is there so much hate for the ones we love? (Yeah, yeah, yo)

I pine a lot, I find the lot

You
It's you and me

Falls through without you

It's you and me
Won't be unhappy

I'm coming back love, cruel Schpood

And if I only could
I'd make a deal with Ish
And I'd get Him to swap our places

My one dream, my only lover

Be runnin' up that road
Be runnin' up that volcano
Be runnin' up that Ashen Bastion (yo)

Too long I roam in the night

Say, if I only could, oh

I'm coming back to his side to put it right

You (yeah, yeah, yo)
It's you and me

I'm coming home to Tricolor, Westhelm
Trihelm

It's you and me
Won't be unhappy (yeah, yeah, yo)

Schpood, it's me, I'm Jophiel

Oh, come on, baby (yeah)

I've come home, I'm so cold

Oh, come on, darlin' (yo)
Let me steal this moment from you now

Let me in your window

Come on, come on, darlin'
Let's exchange the experience (yo), oh, ooh, ooh

Schpood, it's me, I'm Jophiel

Oh, come on, angel

I've come home, I'm so cold
Let me in your window

And if I only could
I'd make a deal with Ish
And I'd get Him to swap our places

Ooh, let me have it
Let me grab your soul away

I'd be runnin' up that road
Be runnin' up that volcano
With no problems

Ooh, let me have it
Let me grab your soul away
You know it's me, Jophiel

Say, if I only could
I'd make a deal with Ish
And I'd get Him to swap our places

Schpood, it's me, I'm Jophiel
I've come home, I'm so cold
Let me in your window

I'd be runnin' up that road
Be runnin' up that volcano
With no problems

Schpood, it's me, I'm Jophiel

Say, if I only could
I'd make a deal with Ish
And I'd get Him to swap our places

I've come home, I'm so cold

I'd be runnin' up that road
Be runnin' up that volcano
With no problems

Let me in your window

Say, if I only could
I'd be runnin' up that volcano
With no problems

Schpood, it's me, I'm Jophiel
I've come home, I'm so cold

Second funfact,

I tried to portay here very specifically a question for the reader. I put this note after so you can read in peace but you have to know it now. 

The question posed to the reader is,  Is Schpood actually talking to Jophiel or not? Or is it a mix of both?

And lastly, I'll attempt to attach photos. The ring Dhaedrys wears and the pink sky before disaster.