Tomorrow was to be the ninth and final day of the ongoing ritual of 'The Proclamation of the Ashen Silence', and it was undoubtedly going to be the most significant moment in Veridian history for a generation. It would be the day of the official transition of power when the crown would officially shift to Lorian's head. Lorian and his inner circle had worked tirelessly over the past week to ensure that this transition would be smooth and unhindered.
The week-long purge had been brutal, efficient, and hauntingly swift. Most of the Great Houses that had dared to conspire against the Thornes were already entangled in the web of their own treason. Those who had been hesitant to join the conspiracy or ignorant of the conspiracy were not spared either. They too were incriminated by association or fabricated evidence. One by one, the rebellious houses were dismantled; their lands were seized, their titles were stripped, and their influence was redistributed among Thorne loyalists to solidify their allegiance. New Houses were elevated from the lower nobility to fill the sudden power vacuum. Those houses were thereby going to be entirely subservient to the crown.
Surprisingly, the general populace, who might have rioted under normal circumstances, remained largely compliant. Elmsworth's death had provided Lorian with a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to tighten his grip on Veridia, and he had used the people's grief, their sympathy towards the Thornes, and anger towards the rebelling Nobles as a shield. With the public, the remaining nobility, and the powerful guilds behind him, everyone in Lorian's camp felt a newfound sense of security. Everyone, that is, except Lorian himself.
The threat of Cassian Thorne had been neutralized; he was now a branded criminal, who would be executed the moment he stepped foot within the city walls. But it was not his uncle who was haunting Lorian's thoughts. It was his cousin, Lyssian. What would he do if the boy arrived to claim his father's perceived birthright?
Lorian was strolling through the palace gardens, trying to clear his mind, when Selena approached him. Her mother, Serana Stormhold, had arrived in Veridia along with the leaders of the other city-states to witness the final rites. While Serana was occupied with her old friend Seraphina, Selena had slipped away to find Lorian. She sensed the unease radiating from him, and for reasons Lorian couldn't quite explain even to himself, he found himself sharing his burden with her.
"May I speak freely?" Selena asked in her usual soft but steady voice.
"Of course," Lorian replied with a weary smile, "Why else would I share these shadows with you if not to hear your light on them?"
Selena noticed the sweetness in his smile, but she also saw the deep fatigue behind his eyes. She took a deep breath, "You know, people think snakes are evil, but they aren't. It is simply their nature to bite. That is how they are made."
Lorian caught her meaning immediately. He nodded, gesturing for her to continue.
"Similarly," Selena said, her expression turning serious, "your cousin grew up believing Veridia rightfully belonged to his father, and then to him. In his eyes, you will always be the pretender;- the enemy who snatched what was his. He will always have animosity toward you, not because he is inherently wicked, but because that is how he was groomed. You cannot untangle a lifetime of such beliefs with a single act of kindness."
"You are right," Lorian admitted, "I cannot hope for him to change. He will always be a thorn in my throat. But what is the solution? Do I banish him? Do I imprison a boy for the sins of his father?"
Selena smiled, though a tactical coldness could be observed in that smile, "On what charge? In a civilized society, a father's crime does not extend to his son. You cannot arrest a man for a 'thought crime' either. If you imprison him now, while emotions are high, you might be safe. But when things settle, the people will look at you and see a power-hungry maniac. They will say you were a coward, afraid of a brother who had no army. If a new rebellion ever rises, a Lyssian kept in your dungeons will become their greatest figurehead- a living martyr."
Lorian looked at her, intrigued by the sharp logic flowing from someone so young, "So, what would you have me do?"
"So," Selena's eyes became bright with a sudden, dark intensity, "your best bet is to find Lyssian and remove him before he can even enter the public's mind. If you finish both father and son before they can make an appearance, the world will eventually forget them. They will assume they fled to some distant land to live in exile."
As the words left her mouth, Selena suddenly realized how ruthless she sounded. Fear flickered in her eyes; she got worried that Lorian, like everyone else, would see her as a monster. But instead, Lorian looked at her with newfound respect. He saw the fear in her big bright eyes and, to break the tension, reached out and gave her a playful, teasing knuckle-rub on the head.
"Why, you little devil!" he laughed. Selena flustered, her face reddened, but her fear vanished.
"Alright," Lorian said, turning back to the path, "But what if I am too late? What if Lyssian appears before I can deal with him?"
Selena gave a cryptic smirk as her composure was now returning, "As the saying goes, keep your friends close, and your enemies... closer."
Lorian patted her head affectionately. "Arigato, Sensei," he murmured.
Selena didn't understand the foreign words, but she felt the warmth of his appreciation. She covered her face with her hands, shyly turning away. From a balcony overlooking the garden, their two mothers watched them. Serana and Seraphina exchanged a knowing look, pleased to see the ice breaking between their children, unaware of the dark political gambit the two had just discussed.
The Day of Confirmation
The sun rose once more over Veridia, but the light felt different today. This was the ninth day- the fourth and final phase of the transition- 'The Day of Confirmation.' At dawn, the body of Elmsworth was moved to the Royal Crypts in a silent, somber procession. It was attended by the family, the High Council, and the foreign dignitaries. Among them stood Duke Azgar Zorat, the very man who had threatened Elmsworth only days prior. He had arrived with a letter of veiled apology from Prince Arihan Aghaz, which Lorian found suspicious. However, Lorian's mind was occupied by a second, secret letter from the Empire of Indoris- one meant for his eyes alone.
At noon, the High Council of Veridia, the 'Council of the Iron Chair,' assembled in the Great Hall. It was time for the Ritual of the Three Denials.
The High Chancellor, dressed in robes of ashen purple, stepped forward and offered Lorian the Great Seal of the City-State.
As tradition dictated, Lorian refused, as his voice echoed through the silent hall, "My heart is in the crypts with my father; I am not fit to hold the sun."
The Council then pointed to the symbolic unrest at the gates and the looming threat of the Empire. They offered the Seal a second time.
Lorian refused again, as was the custom, "Veridia is a city of laws, not of mourning sons. Seek a better man among you."
Just as the High Chancellor prepared for the third and final plea- the one Lorian was meant to accept,- a frantic commotion broke the sacred silence. Shouting erupted from the entrance. Heavy boots pounded against the stone. The Council members looked around in confusion and alarm.
Before the council could speak the final words, the great doors of the hall burst open. A figure stood there, framed by the midday sun, huffing and panting as if he had run across the entire continent.
It was Lyssian Thorne.
Had the 'snake' arrived just in time to bite?