The Warmth of the Hearth

The King of Ezicion lies defenseless within his own walls, squirming for a way to escape his inevitable fate. “Please! Take anything that you want! Don’t kill me!” Loft does not reply, instead she sheathes the blade to its scabbard found on her hip as she signals for the heads of the houses to enter the throne room.

Its gray concrete walls give it a dull atmosphere, with banners of the Royal crest occasionally found plastered on the walls. The King speaks again, quivering with fear. “I gave you the academy you ungrateful witch! This is how you repay me? Those Feebles that you speak of, they are nothing to this society!” Loft starts to approach him, the other heads of the houses looking down on the pitiful sight of who once was their leader. “Those rats only mean more mouths to feed, more resources to expend! They are nothing more than tra---”

The king does not get to finish his sentence as Loft swiftly decapitates him, his bearded head now rolling on the floor as a puddle of blood starts to form beneath her feet. The Queen screams, terrified at the sight in front of her. She quickly covers her children’s eyes, glaring at Loft. “You evil hag! You will pay for what you’ve done!”

Loft does not react, instead she orders them to be taken away. She turns towards the other heads of the houses, her face indifferent. “We shall discuss our next motive in a while. However...” She pauses, looking at a young descendant of House Fir, a teen male in a white tunic. Loft slowly walks towards him, the blade leaving a trail of blood in her wake. “I smell a rat, young one. I smell the stench of a vermin from you.”

“I do not know what you speak of ma’am.” Eron Fir lowers his head, trying not to lose his composure. He was the one feeding House Blaise the information that he knows, from when he was just a mere student in the Academy up to the point of the rebellion. Like Kayden, he remained loyal to the crown and put oaths above anything else. For what is a man who cannot stand by his promises other than a fool, a coward.

Loft smiles, she knew that it was him who was loyal to a fault, and it was him that has chosen to deceive them. “Do not take me for a fool child, I have been through more betrayals than you could ever imagine.” As she says this, her eyes glow a bright white, and she extends her hand to Eron. The young Fir is now suspended midair, choking.

Eron’s father, Aden Fir, kneels in front of Loft. “Madam, forgive my son. I shall make sure that this doesn’t happen again.” Aden, the leader of the benevolent House Fir, was in charge of most of the medicinal resources of Ezicion. He knew this, thus he knew that Loft could not afford to risk losing him as an ally. “I beg of you, forgive my son.”

Eron falls to the ground, coughing and gasping for breath. His father proceeds to speak as an intense anger boils within Eron. “Thank you madam, you have my word.”

Loft does not respond and instead makes her way to the head of the king, a bloody mess now surrounding it. The heads of the houses look at her, an immense amount of weight fills the atmosphere. Loft proceeds to step upon the balcony that overlooked the entirety of Ezicion, her eyes glowing bright once again. “Heed me Ezicion, for your freedom has finally come.”

Luke and Nieko finally arrived at the shack, carried by Tyrone. Souyer and Olin greet them and relief floods them with the sight of one another. The house had it the worst, as cracks now surround the entire structure of the building.

Olin looks at Luke, which meant that he too had questions. “Uncle, the Mur has collapsed.” His uncle nods, his eyes hinting that he was in deep thought. Luke continues. “Something’s also wrong with the capital. Could it be that there was an attack?”

As if to answer his question, a loud familiar voice travels through the air, causing them to look around for a good moment before realizing that it was a product of magic. “Heed me Ezicion, for your freedom has finally come.” Principal Loft? Luke looked at Olin, who seemed to be just as confused as he was. The voice continues, echoing throughout the entire forest. “For centuries, our country has turned its backs to those who were deemed powerless, barring some of our own people from achieving anything in life. For so long, we have been under the rules of tyrants, gluttons, and self-absorbed rulers who have treated you, the people of our motherland, nothing more than trash.” She pauses, and Luke can’t help but agree with what she’s saying. He too questioned their system. He too was a victim, one who was beaten down at the bottom. “No more will you suffer the consequences of their actions. Those who have been branded the name of “Feeble”, I lift that brand off of you. We will rise again, as one united Ezicion!”

In the distance, Luke could hear the cheering of the other Feebles in the surrounding area. He turns to face Olin, not knowing what he was feeling. Beside him, Nieko and Souyer were smiling, tears in their eyes. No longer will they suffer from poverty, questioning whether or not each meal would be their last.

Luke was happy for them, that there was now a better way of seeing things in Ezicion. However, he knew that something was off. The memory of being impaled flashes in his mind, the warmth of his own body crawling away from him. The manic laughter rings in his head, and a question forms within his head. How many more died along with me to achieve this? Luke looks at Olin, who knew what the cost of all of this was. There was no smile, no joy in their eyes. They found no happiness in this newfound peace, for in order to achieve it, Luke and his uncle lost everything. Was it really worth it?