"You can. But beyond that, you must." Eipril says. "Evil can't be beaten, Lover. It is within us all. All we can do is control it, or embrace it. I embraced it for the good of my Kingdom. And it allowed for the removal of Valoreth from the physical world. But we are in the domain of Valoreth's Master now, and the rings I bear give him physical power." Eipril sighs. "It must not happen again."

Theus' throat tightens. "We'll find a way, you'll find a way, you always did-"

"Theus." Eipril cuts him off. "I will always be within your reach. I swear to you. As yours." A cold breeze overtakes them both. "There's not much time now." He looks at Theus straight in the eye. "I'll always Love you." He presses his forehead against Theus', and he drives the dagger into his Lover's heart. Immediately, he comes out of Eipril's mind, and finds them both in the exact same position in the physical plane. King Eipril laid dead on the lap of his First Lycan, a golden dagger stuck on his side, eyes pointing starside into the infinite. Theus feels a sharp pain on his chest, and a small speck of rot appears on his breastplate. He places his forehead against his King's, and Thinks.

"And in that sleep, what dreams may come."

~~~:~~~:~~~:~~~:~~~:~~~:~~~:~~~:~~~:~~~:~~~:~~~:~~~:~~~

Brutus woke up on the floor. He didn't recall falling asleep, and his last memory was what he saw in Theus' mind. The King, dead. He was guilty as charged. He murdered his King. But there was a story behind it. A purpose to break his vow. A need to perform the unthinkable. 

"Theus?" He calls from his cell. "Are you there? Theus?" Silence answers him. He stands up, and walks outside of his cell. He gazes into the one next to his', and finds it empty. 

"Wait a minute." He thinks, and realises he is free. His chains were removed, his cell door opened. He smiles like he hasn't in years, and walks around. He finds the corpses of the Gallow-keepers in the same place as before, but the author of such death was gone. He walks out of the holding cells, and into the morgue. Corpses lay on the floor, as if taken from their boxes and used as toys. Limbs scattered across the floor, and Brutus walks between them, avoiding them with each step. He opens the next door and walks out to a hall with a hole the size of a carriage on the roof. Below a massive boulder, a lone arm stuck out. Brutus uses his energies to lift the boulder, and bury the victim properly. He removes the blood from the rock, and inscribes an old blessing into the boulder before laying it on top of the grave.

The next door gives way to a dimly lit hallway where a seemigly-dead mage lies with his right arm consumed. Brutus realises the mage is still breathing, and uses archaic incantations to model nearby metals into a usable arm, which he connects to the mage and leaves to wake up alone.

He finds the courtroom empty but orderly. He knew there was a session, that's how Theus was condemned. He keeps walking and finds a note of paper stuck against a stand. 'REGICIDE' it read. "If only they knew." He says to himself and keeps walking.

He crosses the various empty rooms and finds the debris he witnessed being thrown scattered around the castle and the destruction it brought down. Armories were reduced to rubble, medical zones covered in boulders, food reserves crushed. He looks at the highest tower in the castle, and it was been reduced to rubble. Yet he could glimpse the Throne from down here, and he could swear he saw a figure looking at him from the remaining rubbles of the tower. So he decided to make his way there.

Hall after hall had been touched by one boulder or another. Brutus expected as much, but what surpriseed him was the absence of everyone. Apart from the corpses he found after exiting his jail, there was no one. No one dead, no one alive. He walked past the Kingdom's reserves of wealth, and nothing tempted him. He had no need for stealing anymore, no need for intrusion, be it physical or psychic. He had been given willingly what he wanted, he experienced Luminosity. The dream of every philosopher, the hope of everyone dabbling in the magic arts. He had witnessed it without intrusion, and he was forever changed.

He had made his way to the last hall before the ascent to the tower. The Lycans that were supposed to guard this entrance were nowhere to be found. The seal of the door was broken, a golden sigil shattered. He pushed the door open, and began to climb. Each loop showed more of the castle and it's remains through holes on the walls: boulders scattered way beyond what he had expected, what he had seen. Some farmland outside the walls had been essentially rained upon by smaller pieces of debris, rendering most of the crop fields good as posioned soil. The schools inside the walls had their roofs caved in, and the stables were lit on fire. The entire castle and its surroundings seemed to have been reduced to useless rubble, and from what Brutus had read, it would soon turn to the den of vipers all ruins turned into. 

When he reached the top of the tower, the doors had been either torn from their hinges or turned to dust. As he entered and looked to the right, he saw the wall burnt except for a man's figure against it. A few steps in front the marble floor was dyed red. To his left, the balcony had been expanded into a massive hole, and he saw what remained of Valoreth's army: rubble, weapons, black armor, and in some places, Lycan's armor. Gold droplets scattered across spilled ink. In the distance, he saw a large group of people walking away into the horizon. The ones who survived the assault left in search of a better place. He admired the view, and turned to the most important sight: the Throne.

At the base, several full sets of armor were lying on the floor. Further ahead, at the base of the stairs, a dark stain scattered across the floor, corruption still trying to spread. A few steps up in a the First Lycan's Platfrom was Theus' armor, the rot on the breastplate now reversed, and as perfect as the day it was made. Brutus bowed to the armor, recognizing that it alone was what allowed the people to survive. He walked up the marble stairs, and in the seat of the Throne he found two things: a crown and a closed book.

When touching the crown, he felt energy run into his body. An amount that caused pain. He recoiled and released it, droping it down the flight of stairs. And at the end, he saw the most beautiful thing: an amber tree with golden leaves. The image brought tears to his eyes, and he grabbed the book in a rush. As he ran down the stairs he conjured up a chair from the debris. When he sat down and looked at the cover of the book, he found it already titled.

'Duty.'