He stayed there for a long time, maybe an hour. Watching the town go up in smoke, the flames wouldn't go out. They remained there, constant, as if refusing to go out until Aris looked away.
Aris stood there, again and again. The cold was beginning to get to him, and then his body reminded him that he would die if he did nothing. His wounds were still running slightly. A large puddle now lay beneath his body. But Aris didn't care. What was he supposed to do, after all? What was he going to do?
His body would die on the spot, but Aris refused to move. He was ready to blame it for the death of his companions, but soon remembered that he himself had forged this body to the point of paroxysm and that no one should be able to kill him.
Finally, with his head buried between his knees and arms, sitting on his buttocks in a pool of blood, Aris waited.
A miracle... maybe....a dream
He knew it wasn't, but he wanted to believe it. After all, an entire kingdom had just been destroyed in less than a year. No trace of his own existence could be found. His body was the only thing left of Arkis.
"What a shame!"
He looked up at the sky, his face just as blank. He thought back to Ren, who had fought until his last breath, to the fruit merchant who had kindly offered him a piece of fruit just before all this. To his close guard, with whom he often laughed and had a good time. To the town of Ikar, which had given him such a warm welcome that he'd almost made it the capital. To his black horse, with which he had made almost all his travels. And then, after all these little things, he thought of Ana.
She who had asked him to flee his country to save himself.
"Live for us"
The smile of relief on her face was also a smile of sadness. His precious counselor had that he'd spent three quarters of his life.
"Aris, this is Ana Robert. She'll be your future counselor. She's very intelligent and incredibly beautiful. Can you say hello?"
Aris was five years old that day. The day a maid introduced him to Ana. He had looked her up and down before turning on his heels with his head held high.
"Hff, I don't need a counselor."
He laughed as he thought back to that day and how wrong he'd been. Of course he needed her, of course she was super important. But now she was gone and the only thing she'd left behind was three words:
"Live for us"
Aris quickly lost his awkward little smile. He then looked at his own relfet in its blood puddle. His face flushed red. A battered face that resembled that of a dying dog came into view.
The king's handsome face was smudged and covered with small gashes he'd made in battle.
"What a sad day. I hope that...."
Aris didn't finish his sentence. He lifted his head and thought again of Ana's sentence. Could he even do it? Live for Arkis? Live for the dead?
Then his gaze returned to his home town of Aurubus. The flames were still ravaging it, showing not a single sign of fatigue. Was he tired? No, Aris could hardly be tired. His mind was exhausted, yes, but his stamina was still there.
Was he dead? No, although he'd lost an enormous amount of blood, Aris remained conscious. Even death was having trouble overcoming him.
Was he unable to fight? No, he was still capable, as Ren had been until his last breath. He could still hold his weapon and defy the soldiers who had wounded him. The human world that had taken his kingdom from him.
Could he take revenge?...
It seemed almost impossible. Ventis was involved and even the allliance of the three kingdoms was too much for him anyway. He had been overwhelmed by numbers and by the presence of one man. If he was human. How could he take revenge?
Aris wondered....
And after a long moment of reflection, he stood up. With what little delicacy he could muster, he took his left arm in his right hand. His left leg would have to wait a little before being supported, and his right leg would have to redouble its efforts.
He looked at Aurubus one last time, then turned back to the west. He was limping, his gait was horrible, and knowing him as a fallen king, it was even harder to look at, but at least he was walking.
He had decided not to let himself die. For Ana, for Ren, for Eleena, for his close guard...
"I'm sorry, Roald, Lee, Katia, Morgon..."
He felt terribly sorry for everyone he'd left behind. Out of all his people, only he, the king, had survived. It was a shame, he didn't want to go on, but his people did.
Then he remembered all the names he had :
"For Raidon, for Marc, for Kiryan, for Ian, for ...."
The list went on and on. Aris used the names to motivate himself. Every step carried a name, every breath carried a hope. His blood was still flowing, his leg screaming in pain, but his people were screaming at him not to stop.
"For Michael, for Jean, for Orube, for Tarillia, for Arus, for..."
Aris may not have been marching to a good life, but he was marching for vengeance....
"Duke of Grey...King of Koran...and especially you Ventis...I will lead you to your doom. I will reduce you to ashes. I will annihilate your kingdoms and all those who face me. I swear on my life that as long as I breathe, none of you will be safe."
...the revenge of the dethroned King.
End of the prologue