Few minutes later, we all sit quietly, the atmosphere is tense. Our expression is calm but sorrowful.
"I'm so sorry for your loss, Belteshazzar. Trust me, I know how you feel." Emma utters quietly, breaking the silence
"You do?" The strange man, Belteshazzar asked
"Yes, we do."
"You all look at Emperor Erebus and see a scar." I said quietly. "But what you don't see… is the story behind it. And why he carries so much pain and anger."
Michael, Conner, Charlotte and Emma glance at each other. Silence.
"What do you know?" Conner asked
I look up. Hesitate, then said softly,
"Let me tell you what happened long before any of us were born…"
FLASHBACK BEGINS
Erebus sat silently at the edge of the war chamber.
The large stone table stretched before him, covered in maps, scrolls, and red flags stabbed into carved-out Inner Circumference cities. Gavaria Empire generals sat around it in full armor, their faces marked with years of combat and command. Torches along the walls flickered, casting long shadows that danced across the war maps.
He didn't speak. He wasn't sure he was supposed to.
His father, Emperor Pontius, sat at the head of the table, tall and imposing in his black and red robes. His gaze was sharp as flame and just as unforgiving. Erebus's heart thudded in his chest, but he kept his back straight, hands clasped behind him.
One of the generals leaned forward, dragging his finger along a route on the map.
"We'll strike the Inner Circumference's northern shore at dawn. With our fleet positioned here—" he pointed, "—we'll sweep down and take To'vedachot in one motion."
Another general nodded. "Once we control To'vedachot, Antarctical won't hold out much longer. We'll squeeze them in from both sides."
Erebus watched, his stomach churning. They spoke of cities like they were chess pieces. No mention of the civilians. No mention of the children who'd be caught in the firestorm.
He shifted slightly. It wasn't until the next general spoke that he couldn't hold back.
"We should sacrifice the battalion as a distraction," the general said plainly. "They'll draw the Inner Circumference's troops north while we advance on their capital."
Erebus blinked. "The Battalion? That's made up of new recruits. Young boys."
Every head in the room turned toward him. Silence fell like a hammer. Even the torches seemed to burn quieter.
Erebus hesitated, but leaned forward. "They're barely trained. You're talking about sending them to die. There has to be another way."
General Bujing raised an eyebrow. "This is war, Prince Erebus. Sacrifices must be made."
"They're not just numbers on a map," Erebus said, trying to keep his voice steady. "They're people. Gavaria citizens."
Pontius's voice cut through the silence. "You forget yourself, Erebus."
Erebus swallowed hard and stood. "Forgive me, Father, but I won't stay silent while innocent soldiers are used as bait."
The room stayed quiet for a moment longer. Then Emperor Pontius stood.
"You dared speak out of turn," he said coldly. "In my war chamber. In front of my generals."
Erebus opened his mouth, but the fire in his father's eyes stopped him cold.
"There's only one to resolve this," Pontius continued. "Tavrakai."
Erebus stood frozen. The weight of what he'd done crushed down on him, heavier than any armor. But in his heart, he knew he'd spoken the truth—even if it would cost him everything.
PRESENT DAY
"What does Tavrakai mean?" Charlotte asked, looking at me.
"I will tell you." I said
FLASHBACK CONTINUES
The arena was deathly silent.
Erebus stepped onto the scorched stone floor, the heat beneath his bare feet pulsing like a second heartbeat. He exhaled slowly, steam rising from his breath in the early morning air. His chest was bare, his shoulders tense, fists clenched at his sides. This was his moment to prove himself—to make things right after speaking out in the war chamber.
He thought of the general he had challenged, the man whose plan had called for sending untrained recruits to die. Erebus had only meant to protect them, to show mercy. But mercy, in the Gavaria, was often mistaken for weakness.
His uncle stood by the edge of the arena, his face solemn.
"Stay focused," Uncle said gently. "Remember your training. Breathe. Stay light on your feet."
Erebus gave a small nod, his jaw tight.
"I'm ready," he said. "I'm not afraid."
The far door opened.
Erebus turned to face his opponent—and froze.
It wasn't the general.
It was his father.
Emperor Pontius emerged from the shadows, robed in black and red, his expression unreadable. He walked slowly, deliberately, and stopped across the ring from his son. A hush rippled through the few high-ranking spectators in attendance. No one dared speak.
Erebus's voice cracked. "Father?"
Emperor Pontius didn't answer. He simply took off his cloak, letting it fall to the ground. His golden eyes locked onto Erebus like a predator sizing up prey.
"This is your punishment," Pontius said coldly. "You spoke out of turn. You questioned your elders. And now… you will learn respect."
Erebus's blood turned to ice.
He turned back to Uncle, confused, afraid. "I didn't know it would be him. He… he's really going to fight me?"
Uncle's eyes glistened, but he gave a slight nod. "Bow low, nephew. Show him you will not fight."
Erebus stepped forward, trembling, and knelt to the ground, lowering his head in a gesture of surrender.
"I'm sorry, Father. I never meant to offend you. I was only trying to speak for those who couldn't."
"Rise." The command echoed off the stone walls like a blade drawn from its sheath.
Erebus didn't move. "No, please… Father." His voice was barely above a whisper, thick with fear and shame. His forehead pressed harder to the floor. "I beg you…"
"RISE!!" Emperor Pontius's voice exploded across the chamber, a thunderclap of fury that made the guards flinch.
From the side, Erebus's uncle stepped forward. His robes swept gently along the floor as he moved, his expression tight with concern. "Brother," he said, voice steady but firm, "you don't need this. He's your son."
Pontius turned his eyes toward him, eyes hard as iron. "We'll see."
He looked back down at Erebus, then raised his right hand—not quickly, but with sharp, deliberate control. Power gathered in his palm like smoke pulled from the air.
"Rise and fight, Prince Erebus," he said. "Learn what it means to show respect."
Erebus's heart pounded. His limbs felt heavy. Slowly, he pushed himself to his feet, each movement slower than the last. He looked at his father—taller, colder, more ruthless than ever.
"I won't," Erebus said, his voice breaking. "I won't fight you, Father."
Pontius's eyes narrowed. A sudden roar of flame shot out of his palm. It struck Erebus with brutal force, sending him flying backward, screaming in pain. The heat seared into his skin, burning a permanent mark into him.
His uncle dashed to him instantly, wrapping his cloak around the boy's scorched body, shielding him from the crowd's eyes.
Erebus didn't fight back.
He couldn't.
He only lay there, tears mixing with the pain, as the scar on his chest began to take shape—not just on his skin, but in his spirit.
To be continued....