CHAPTER 75: FROM KINGDOM TO KINGDOM

Aeron and his mother, Elarya, were in the Drenn’s house. With them were Ronan, Yvarra, and their mother, Elira. She had called them all together, and now she stood before them, ready to speak.

"I called you all here," Elira began, her voice calm but firm, "in honor of my late husband. Every one of us here holds him close in our hearts. Even you, Elarya," she turned to Aeron’s mother with a soft smile, "you are like family to us."

She paused, then continued. "Since his passing, we have carried sorrow in our faces. We no longer smile, nor live as ourselves. I understand why, he was a good man. A caring and loving man. But this cannot continue. He would not want this for us. Not from his family."

"He was always the kind of man who moved forward, who welcomed the brightness of the next day. He would not want to see us bound by grief. So, for his sake, we must stop mourning. We must live happily. We must live fully."

She looked at each of them in turn. "Be yourselves again. Enjoy the moments you still have. Do it for him."

There was a silence in the room. Then Elira went on. "From the letter he left, I learned the truth of who you are, Elarya, and who Aeron is." She bowed her head slightly. "And now, we must make sure his sacrifice is not in vain. We must continue to protect Aeron. We must remain his family. We must support him in every way we can."

Just as she was still speaking, faint sounds began to rise from outside. Murmurs. The noise of people.

Everyone turned their heads. Elira stopped talking. Together they all stood and went out of the house.

In the streets, they saw villagers hurrying in one direction. Toward the center of the village. They followed curiously until they came to the village square. A large crowd had already gathered.

At the center stood two officers in armor.

"What is going on?" the villagers muttered among themselves as they went forward.

The officers raised their voices so all could hear.

"Most of you have heard of the threat from the West," one of them said. "Our kingdom joined with Aerthwyn to fight this enemy. But..." He hesitated, then his tone dropped. "It is sad to say we lost the battle."

The villagers began murmuring loudly.

"What are we supposed to do now?" one man shouted.

"Why are you telling this to us? You are soldiers, shouldn’t you keep fighting?" another said.

"Are you saying the enemy will come here to destroy us?" a woman cried.

"What kind of enemy is this, that even two kingdoms could not defeat?" yet another voice asked.

The officers lifted their hands to calm them.

"Please," one of them said. "We are not finished yet."

They continued. "The rumors you have heard about this enemy... They are true. They are not human. They are not flesh and blood. They are skeletons, bones that move, fight, and kill. We were ordered to share this with you so you may know what danger is coming. Soon, it may not be soldiers alone who fight them. It may be you, in your own homes, in your own villages, defending yourselves. Because if they break through again, there will be nowhere left to run."

The villagers gasped and muttered to one another in fear.

"These creatures are moving from kingdom to kingdom, destroying everything in their path. We must hope, and we must pray, that the reinforcements from other kingdoms will be enough to stop them. If not... our world will be nothing but ashes and ruin." The officers said

The square broke into noise, voices rising in panic.

"What will become of us?"

"How can bones be fought?"

"Are the gods punishing us?"

Then, from the back of the crowd, Ronan shouted.

"You say we lost the first battle."

The officer looked at him and gave a solemn nod.

"That is true."

"Who led the battle?" Ronan pressed.

The officer hesitated, then answered.

"Sadly... it was led by the royal princess herself. And as of now, no one knows of her condition, nor her whereabouts. That is how grave it is."

At those words, Aeron froze. He could not bear to stand there any longer. Without a word, he pushed through the crowd and left the square, his face was filled with anger.

He went straight to the forest. There, He picked up the sword and began practicing, slashing it through the air. Again and again. From behind the trees, Ronan and Yvarra had followed, and from a distance they watched him.

At last, Ronan stepped forward. "And here I was thinking you would not be shaken... that nothing could trouble you this much."

Aeron glanced at him but did not stop. "You haven’t spoken to me in days," he said. "Don’t pretend you want to now."

But then Ronan said quietly, "I read the letter."

Aeron’s sword froze mid-swing. Slowly, he lowered it. He breathed heavily.

"You did?"

Ronan nodded, his eyes lowered. "Yes. And just as you told me... I now despise myself for hating my father. For every angry thought I had against him. For turning my back on him when he was only trying to love me in his way."

His voice was filled with guilt. "When I read his words, I felt him near me. His spirit was in those lines. A part of him that I had never seen while he was alive. It is shameful to say, but... I only came to understand and recognize my father after his death."

Aeron looked at him, his anger was softening.

Ronan stepped closer. "I am sorry, Aeron. Sorry for turning my anger on you. Sorry for shutting you out when you were the only one who understood me."

Aeron’s lips curled into the faintest of smiles.

Ronan continued. "But that leaves me to ask. Tell me... what truly happened at the palace? What did you find out? What was done to you, that you came back so hurt and angry? I need to know."

"..."