“He was just tired and really, really sad. Now he can finally rest easy.” Menadion sniffed again while thinking about all the pain and anguish Valeron had gone through because of a single mistake.
Back then, it wasn’t Tyris to choose the new ruler of the Kingdom, but Valeron himself. The First King had faked his death after ruling for over a century because he firmly believed that his long life and Tyris’s help had made him unfit to understand the needs of his people.
Mages wanted more power, commoners wanted more freedom, and nobles wanted everything to stay as it was. The moment Valeron realized that he was against the change as well, he abdicated.
According to his heart, the Kingdom was perfect, but his reason knew better. There was no such thing as a perfect state, just the fairest compromise under the circumstances of a given time in history.
The Kingdom had grown by leaps and bounds under Valeron’s rule and it had become a utopian country compared to before its unification. Fair laws, no slavery, and a justice system that held even nobles accountable for their actions.
The problem was that “fair” was a relative term and that, over time, nobles had found countless ways to bend the new rules. Even though Valeron recognized most of those issues, he hesitated to enact the necessary changes because his attachment to the past kept him from worrying about the present.
Some of those laws had been written with the help of his best friends. To him, changing them meant to destroy their legacy, to admit to himself that the people he had trusted the most had been wrong.
He found it difficult to punish nobles as well because they were all descendants of the men and women he had handpicked to rule the Kingdom beside him as its pillars. Killing them or stripping them of their titles would erase the bloodlines of those who had shed their tears and blood with him on the battlefield for years.
As the Kingdom thrived and its people grew in number, Valeron recognized fewer and fewer faces, making him feel like a relic of a forgotten era. His memories and Tyris were the last things he had left from his human life.
His direct descendants were still alive, but unlike him, they became older and died if an accident befell them. Valeron lacked the strength to alter his own legacy so he made one of his children the ruler and helped them from the sidelines.
His heart bled with every new law and every time the borders moved, because the Kingdom changed faster than he could accept it, yet Valeron still rejoiced in seeing his people happy.
It gave him the strength to accept the burden and isolation of power.
Arthan’s Madness, however, had destroyed all the confidence Valeron had in his ability to judge people. He felt responsible for putting Arthan on the throne and for forcing Tyris to publicly execute their great-great-grandson after exposing his crimes.
She knew that Valeron would suffer, but the Guardian also wanted to show the people of the Kingdom that no one was above the law, not even the Royals. After Arthan’s death, Valeron had stopped using Mother Earth, Tyris’s breathing technique.
Unable to recognize the Kingdom he had built anymore, with all his direct descendants dead, and the burden of having failed to stop Arthan before thousands of innocents died, he had lost the will to live.
“Are you really sad too, Mommy? Please, don’t go away. I’ll be good.” Baby Solus had no concept of death, yet the thought of not seeing her mother terrified her.
“Don’t worry, baby girl. Mom is not going anywhere. I’ll always be there for you. Always.” Menadion held her child tight, glad to not have been born a noble.
In the Awakened community, having children was one of the ways to keep ties with a world that became more alien to them by the decade. Valeron had stopped having children after abdicating to not cause problems with the line of succession.
“Why is mommy’s hair of different colors while I only got silver and orange? I want green too!” Baby Solus said.
“I’m sorry sweetie, but such things are decided at birth. You already have two streaks and it means you’re really talented.” Menadion chuckled while looking at the little girl who played with her hair under the light, admiring its reflexes as if it was a multi-colored gem.
“Talented in what?”
“Light and earth. The elements of creation. You’ll make a great Forgemaster when you grow up, just like your mom.” Menadion replied.
“What about green? Can I get it?”
“Green is very, very rare. Only those with six affinities can reach it. Green is the color of mana and mana is nothing more than the six elements mixed with our life force.” Menadion said.
“It’s not rare. You and Aunt Loka have it. Even Dad!” Baby Solus pouted, putting her long hair beside her mother’s and allowing Solus to notice that her human hair was of a shade of brown so light that it looked golden under the magical lights in the house.
“Dad doesn’t have it. It’s just paint that dirties his hair because of his habit of scratching his head with the brush whenever he gets stumped with one of his pieces. Gods, that man should shower more often.” Menadion laughed.
‘My Mom was Menadion and my father was a painter. I wonder if he ever became famous and what kind of man he was.’ Solus thought.
“Normal people have no elemental streak at all. Just like Dad and even uncle Valeron. Those like you who have high affinity for both the elements of creation are said to be blessed by the light, sweetie.”
Menadion conjured a hard-light construct of Valeron wearing the Royal Armor and wielding the Royal Blade. Since he had been “dead” for decades, Tyris would hold no funeral.
Making sure that at least his memory would live on with her child was Menadion’s way to pay her respects to the First King.
In the hologram, Valeron looked youthful and happy, wearing a warm smile on his face.
“Did you make those things for him, Mommy? They look silly.” Baby Solus said.
“No, dear. Those are the Sword and Armor of Saefel.” Menadion replied.
“Who’s Saefel and why did she do such a bad job?”
“Mommy is going to share a big secret with you, so you have to promise me to never tell it to anyone.” With his death, the promise that Menadion had made to Valeron became irrelevant.
“Saefel is just another of Tyris’s names. After they got married, uncle Valeron didn’t like being forced to share her with the rest of Mogar. Awakened called her Tyris, people prayed to her with the name of Great Mother, and with her duties as a Guardian, she would often be away.
“So, uncle Valeron gave her a new name, Saefel, that only he would use whenever they were alone.”
“I don’t get it.” Baby Solus said.
“It’s a human custom, my child. When we have a baby or a pet, the first thing we do is giving them a name. It distinguishes them from all the others and allows us to claim them as ours. How would you feel if someone else called me mom?” Menadion said.
