The Aeterna Empire

Chapter 6 - The Unbeliever

I failed.

The sun beat down my bare shoulders with a hot weight, reminding me with each passing minute of the approaching nightmare I envisioned. Ever since witnessing the Aeterna's daunting power, I foresaw the familiar world's violent destruction towards something unrecognizable. Accordingly, I returned to Kes to ensure my people's salvation, bring aid to Ire, and save Dyson. I sent out the corrupt to renovate my kingdom in precious time for war. Despite that, or perhaps because of that, I had failed.

Clinking sounds disturbed the grave silence, and I opened my eyes. I was bound to a tree, the same ones on which we sacrificed the Cynn-Bloods. Along with me around the cobbled courtyard were Fereren, Abhdan, and the ministers to faithfully follow me. Kes-Blood did not burn in the same manner as Cynn-Blood, so by striking contrast, our death was to be slow.

A civil servant carefully carried a stand towards me, set it down, and positioned a tan-hide canvas. He took a hammer and some nails, beat the prepared canvas into the frame, placed a stool before it, and walked off. The servant returned with paint, brushes, sparkling water, a basket of sweet bread, and shade. Caius stepped into view, breathed heavily with a contented smile, approached, grasped a paintbrush, prepared it, and looked at me.

"Good morning, brother!" He greeted.

"Caius," I breathed. I hadn't been exposed to the sun longer than a day, but already my throat was dry. It would be challenging to whisper soon. "What is this?"

"Just commemorating the occasion!" He answered. "I thought my day lacked something, that touch to make it truly perfect. Father was gone. I occupied the throne. I possessed the armies. I have the people, the kingdom, the officials, but no! It was incomplete. At that moment, it struck me! You! Rather than allow your final day to be meaningless, make it special and beautiful. After all, such a golden day is to be shared, and what better way than for my brother to be a part of it!"

"You think I enjoy this?" I asked. "Being tied up and made to watch you paint me while the sun flogs me?"

He hummed in thought a moment, "No, I imagine not. But the important thing is that I will." He picked up his paintbrush and introduced his first stroke. "Do me a favor and shift your head slightly to the left, please. I want to capture what father did to you."

I sighed. Our perceived rivalry didn't matter. Caius was right, I had lost, but that didn't mean we all had to.

"Caius, you win," I admitted. The words made him smile further, and his eyes sparkled until I continued. "But if you are not cautious, the Aeterna will short-live your victory. He has already killed two kings in a matter of days. Now that you are king, do you think yourself safe from a hunter of them? No. You will be his prey!"

I stopped to heave. My parched throat ached and burned. "Die a little slower, will you?" Caius asked.

"Caius! If you care about keeping what you have taken, you must prepare!"

He stopped painting, took the brush in two delicate hands, and gently set it down. Caius stepped up from his stool to approach. He looked up at me, no longer smiling or finding amusement in this, but amazingly enough: pity and profound disappointment.

Caius asked, "Where is the proof? He has communicated no message to us, and nobody has encountered him at any coronations to acknowledge his reign. All we have is your ominous word, the report of a war-monger with diplomatic ties to schemers and cheats. The Aeterna is a falsehood Ire has issued you to take home. If this fantastical nightmare of yours exists, he is merely a war chief of the desert mongrels who will turn against each other as they repeatedly have at the slightest sign of something shiny." He scoffed. "This would-be 'prophet' to a false god is nothing."