DRAMA NOVEL ONLINE Chapter Mournful Thrones
-Celestoria-
The royal chamber resonated with the solemn footsteps of the surviving soldier as he approached King Altair, a combination of dread and sorrow etched across his countenance. The soldier, a veteran of numerous battles, knelt before the throne and delivered the heavy news, “My king, I have failed you. The Grand Prince Markus was slain by the Darkbane leader, Vernit.”
A ripple of shock swept through the assembled courtiers, and a collective gasp permeated the air. King Altair’s eyes widened, a fusion of grief and fury overtaking his features. His fingers tightened around the ornate armrests of his throne as he demanded answers, “Vernit? Are you certain of this?”
The soldier, his voice tinged with remorse, affirmed, “Yes, Your Majesty. Vernit led the assault, and he personally struck down the Grand Prince.”
The revelation hung heavy in the air, casting a somber pall over the court. King Altair, grappling with a tempest of emotions, struggled to come to terms with the loss of his brother.
Unbeknownst to the courtiers, Elysum, the true mastermind behind the heinous act, remained concealed in the shadows, watching the unfolding drama with a twisted sense of satisfaction. The soldiers, unaware of Vernit’s twin, had fallen prey to the uncanny resemblance shared by the brothers.
While King Altair navigated the tumult of grief and anger, Hargan stepped forward, whispering urgently, “Your Majesty, I understand the profound grief you feel for the loss of the Grand Prince. In these dark times, it is crucial for us to maintain composure. Let us keep our emotions in check and approach this situation with a clear and steady mind.”
Acknowledging Hargan’s counsel, King Altair took a moment to express gratitude, “Hargan, I appreciate your wisdom during these trying moments. Your advice is invaluable.”
King Altair, his demeanor a mix of determination and sorrow, approached the injured soldier. “Soldier, I need to know the exact location where my brother’s body lies. We must retrieve him and honor him properly.”
The injured soldier, bearing the weight of both physical and emotional wounds, hesitated before speaking. “Your Majesty,” he began with a heavy breath, “after Vernit killed the Grand Prince, I was left there with the fallen soldiers near the Silverbark Forest. It was a devastating scene.”
King Altair, his eyes reflecting the grief that echoed in the soldier’s words, acknowledged the soldier’s condition. “I understand the pain you carry, and I won’t force you to come. General Oromon will accompany me. We’ll find the location and pay our respects to the fallen.”
The injured soldier, visibly relieved, nodded gratefully. “Thank you, Your Majesty. May you find the strength needed for this solemn task.”
With that, King Altair and General Oromon, accompanied by a platoon of soldiers, set out on the journey toward the Silverbark Forest, where the fallen lay in rest, leaving the injured soldier to receive the necessary care and solace in the comfort of the camp.