Ashes of Truth

  “The storm may pass, but its memory lingers in the hearts it scarred.”

  The fires of battle had faded, but smoke still clung to the scorched streets of Alto Capital.

  Ruined banners flapped weakly in the wind, their proud colors dulled by ash.

  Shattered stones and the wounded lined the once-bustling plaza.

  Yet in that silence, a heavier confrontation awaited.

  In the heart of the rubble, Themis stood, his sword still warm from the final clash.

  Across from him knelt Orion, Rhapsodia’s Fireblade General—his armor cracked, his eyes dim, his sword fallen from his grip.

  Themis approached cautiously.

  Orion looked up, lips trembling, and whispered,

  “Do it.”

  Themis blinked, uncertain.

  “Kill me now,” Orion choked out, louder this time.

  “Kill me, please! I’m tired… tired of living in this hell.”

  He bowed his head, shoulders shaking.

  I’m sorry, Dad. I couldn’t even avenge your death against this Harmonia traitor. I failed you. I failed everything… see you soon.

  Themis hesitated. The weight of the blade in his hand suddenly felt unbearable.

  His voice, quiet but resolute, broke through the silence.

  “I can’t. Sylphid said that you’re one of us—an Arcanian.”

  Footsteps echoed behind them.

  Maestro Brauer emerged from the smoke, his crimson cloak fluttering with soot.

  His expression was unreadable—grave, yet sorrowful.

  Orion’s eyes widened in disbelief. Rage surged anew as he stumbled to his feet, pointing a trembling hand at the older man.

  “You! You’re the one who killed him! You killed my father!”

  Brauer did not move.

  “No, Orion. I didn’t.”

  “You lie!” Orion’s shout cracked.

  “You broke the peace treaty—for this child of Darkness! You betrayed him—your friend! I’ve lived with that truth every day!”

  Brauer’s voice remained calm, but heavy with memory.

  “I didn’t betray him. Rhapsodia did.”

  Orion faltered, confusion flickering in his eyes.

  The others—Themis, Seraphina, Lyria, Liam, Tristan, Trieni, and Trish—gathered quietly around, listening as the Maestro took a slow breath and continued.

  “Raiju was my best friend. More than that—he was like a brother.

  We fought side by side in the early wars, and when peace finally came, we both celebrated. We believed in it.”

  Brauer’s gaze lifted to the broken sky.

  “But Katharina had a different dream. One of conquest, not peace.

  She wanted Harmonia’s sacred stone power—claimed that with it, Rhapsodia could rule the entire continent.”

  Orion clenched his fists.

  “Are you lying now? That’s not what Premier Katharina told me… my father wouldn’t have stood for that.”

  “He didn’t,” Brauer said. “He spoke out against her.

  Reminded her of the treaty—of what peace cost us.

  But Katharina only saw him as an obstacle.”

  He paused, the weight of memory settling over them all.

  “But before she struck, Raiju took one last gamble.”

  Silver grass swayed under a moonlit sky.

  Two men met in secret beneath the stars.

  Raiju stood tall, draped in a traveling cloak.

  “She’s gone mad, Brauer. She plans to strike Alto before the next moon rises.”

  Brauer frowned, worry etched deep in his features.

  “There’s still time to stop her—”

  “I don’t think so,” Raiju cut in, voice heavy.

  “I told her I’d never support it. I fear she suspects me already.”

  “Then we warn Alto,” Brauer urged. “We move the stone.”

  Raiju pressed a sealed parchment into his friend’s hand.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  “Take this. If anything happens to me…”

  Brauer gripped his shoulder, fierce and desperate.

  “You’ll live to see this peace endure.”

  But the rustle of bushes betrayed their safety.

  A sudden whistle pierced the air—

  followed by a deadly rain of arrows.

  “Ambush!” Brauer shouted, unsheathing his blade.

  They fought back to back, deflecting steel from shadowed soldiers.

  But one arrow struck Raiju deep in the chest.

  “Raiju!”

  Blood soaked his robes.

  Raiju coughed, forcing a weak smile.

  “Run… Brauer. Protect the stone. Don’t let her win…”

  “I held him as he died,” Brauer said softly, eyes distant.

  “Then I ran. I ran because he made me promise.”

  He reached into his cloak and drew out a worn envelope, its edges frayed with age.

  His hand trembled slightly as he extended it toward Orion.

  “This is from your father. This is the promise I made to him.”

  Orion’s eyes narrowed. He took a step back, suspicion flashing across his face.

  “How do I know this isn’t another trick? Another lie to twist the knife deeper?”

  His voice cracked, raw with grief and disbelief. “You could’ve forged it. You could’ve written anything.”

  Brauer lowered his gaze, saying nothing.

  Seraphina stepped forward, her tone gentle but firm.

  “Then read it,” she said. “If you find deceit in those words, if they don’t sound like him—throw it away.

  But if they do… then maybe you’ll finally know the truth.”

  The wind stirred faintly between them, carrying the scent of ash and rain.

  Orion’s jaw tightened. After a long silence, he reached out and took the letter from Brauer’s hand.

  He carefully opened it, pulling out the parchment.

  His eyes traced the familiar, sharp strokes of his father’s hand—once so steady, now ghostlike on faded paper.

  He read aloud, voice trembling:

  “‘For my son, for the future.

  Always remember—when you must choose between your country and your soul, choose your soul.

  Don’t follow my path. Choose your own.

  Be the flame, not the moth.’”

  The words hung in the air like a prayer.

  “The parchment trembled in his grasp.

  For a moment, the battlefield around him disappeared —

  all he could hear was the sound of his own breath.”

  As he finished, the letter slipped from his hands.

  Tears welled up, spilling over and tracing wet paths down his cheeks.

  Orion wept, his father’s words echoing in his mind.

  “Then… all this time… she told me Harmonia ambushed him. That you—”

  Brauer nodded, sorrow in his eyes.

  “Katharina needed a martyr to justify war.

  And who better than Raiju? A loyal general. A son.”

  Orion staggered, as if the world itself had shifted beneath him.

  “She used me… my grief… my hatred…”

  Brauer stepped forward, voice gentle.

  “Your father loved you, Orion. He didn’t want this war. He wanted peace.”

  Orion looked down at his hands, as if only now seeing the blood on them.

  “Then why does it hurt so much?”

  There was no answer.

  A hush fell over the group.

  Seraphina’s eyes shimmered with tears.

  “No one should have to carry that alone,” she whispered.

  Lyria lowered her shield.

  “We all lost someone. But you… you lost the truth, too.”

  Liam crossed his arms.

  “No one could’ve known. You carried that pain because you believed it was right.”

  Trieni’s gaze dropped.

  “He was just a son… like any of us.”

  Tristan’s anger faded, replaced by quiet respect.

  “Maybe we’ve been fighting the wrong enemy all along.”

  Trish knelt beside Orion, her touch gentle.

  “You’re not alone anymore. Not if you don’t want to be.”

  Themis stepped closer, voice low but firm.

  “What she did was betrayal, not your failure.

  Your father would never want you to drown in her lies.

  You still have us—and we’ll face the truth together.

  You’re not alone in this.”

  Orion turned away slowly, the rage gone from his body, replaced only with exhaustion.

  “I… I don’t know who I am anymore.”

  Themis took a step forward, but Brauer raised his hand.

  “Let him go.”

  “Even silence carries a melody,” Brauer murmured. “It’s the sound of what peace costs.”

  Orion gave them one last glance—filled not with hate, but confusion—and walked west, alone.

  His figure grew smaller against the crimson dusk, swallowed by the shattered horizon.

  The battle for Alto had ended.

  But the wounds it left behind… would take far longer to heal.

  The wind swept through the ruins, scattering ash like fading snow.

  Among the wreckage, Themis closed his eyes and whispered,

  “The storm’s over… but its echo remains.”

  Seraphina looked toward the west, where Orion had vanished.

  Her voice trembled with something like faith.

  “Maybe that’s how peace begins—not with victory, but with truth.”

  And somewhere far beyond the horizon—

  the wind remembered their names.

  

  Role: The Iron Bastion of Rhapsodia

  Affinity: Earth

  Age: 47

  Birthday: March 12

  Weapon Specialty: Tower shield and great mace

  Description / Personality:

  A mountain in motion, Commander Vortan stands as the immovable wall of Rhapsodia’s legions. His strength is legendary—said to have turned the tide of sieges by sheer endurance alone. Beneath his unyielding armor lies a stoic heart, one that believes in duty above all else. Though slow to speak, his every word carries the weight of stone, grounding even the most reckless of soldiers.

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