Chapter 107 - Alistair

Inside the grand room that was as desolate as the weather outside, Alistair sat in the throne on top of the podium, alone, staring off in space as he sang mechanically an old folksong passed on from generations past.

"The little one who prays, the one whose tears are falling

I hear her voice; I know her heart is breaking...

Centuries passed, her tragedy remains unchanged.

"Why is there only melancholy? To love only to lose"

My little one, these were her saddest pleas to me. 

The king's sorrowful voice echoed in the empty hall, his voice faltering with his own emotions. This was the song he had taught his younger sister years ago when she was still a child. It was called Perun's Song to Alencica, the deity's beloved daughter.

"Onwards where the garden is, onwards where her true love waits,

In another world, in another place and time...

Towards where all her sorrow's gone, in his arms where she belongs,

Their destinies unfold, just like what heavens told..."

To never be apart again

To end the curse and sufferings and then replace all the tears with smiles...

The little one who prays, the one who has too much misery

I hear her hopes and heart's desire

She'll soon have a different story...

"And heaven by my grace she'd reach; my vow that in the end, they'd meet.

To the child of my heart, the child of my blood

This is a promise I'd keep."

Alistair's voice broke at the last line, his chest filled with bitterness.

A promise I'd keep?

The king felt like laughing in self- derision. Alinea's gone. All the promises he vowed to fulfill had been turned into ashes along with her body. He bent forward, his elbows rested on his thighs as his hands raked his unkempt silver hair.

Until now, he still hadn't made himself accept Alinea's death. The anguish that had festered inside his soul continued to torment him each and every day.

Why?

Because aside from his memories as the Ritz King, Alistair retained memories of his past life – and the knowledge that this was not the first time he had lost the one he held so dear gnawed at him.

He had failed yet again – he had let her down again.

Urgent footsteps echoed on the marble floor as soon as the door across the room opened. However, Alistair didn't look up until the owner of the steps had reached so close to him, he could see a pair of polished boots on the carpeted floor where he stared.

"Ritz, what have you been doing?"

Alistair looked up to see a solemn-looking Ivan. Just like him, there was sorrow in his pair of jade eyes, yet, there was still fire in them as well – unlike his. The King of Ritz had already lost the most important battle in this lifetime. Except for the remaining anger that he'd soon vanquish by getting his revenge, he had no more strength to fight.

"Waiting," he simply answered as he straightened up in his seat.

Normally, Ivan standing just in front of him, next to the throne would have been deemed inappropriate – rude even. But he knew his friend was just worried about him.

"Waiting for what?" Ivan looked displeased, but Alistair already knew why.

Fredek must have tattled on him. He was aware he looked terrible – and his right-hand man couldn't tell him to do something about it ergo Ivan's presence here.

"For my revenge," Alistair answered with a smile of resignation on his face, and the determination on Ivan's stance faltered.

The Flame Emperor couldn't censure his friend for that, as he himself had this restless feeling within his chest when Alinea died. Like Alistair, he wanted their blood to spill – the blood of everyone involved in the treachery that caused his little fiancée's, and her loyal vassals' lives. 

Days after they had found Ali's body in the cavern, they had also found her vassals' shallow grave at the edge of the forest. Their anguish grew upon realizing that Alinea had lived long enough to witness the death of her comrades and had even made a shallow grave for them.

Alistair broke down that day. It was Ivan who had supervised the exhumation and transferring of the brave and loyal soldiers to their proper resting places. Just like Ali, they had been cremated, and then a statue in the city square was erected in their memory.

"Fredek would be coming soon," Alistair suddenly spoke as he straightened in his seat.

"How did you know?" Ivan asked, but then realized he shouldn't have as he had already known the answer a long time ago.

"I can feel his wind," Alistair answered anyway as he stood up, and marched towards the huge door leading to the great balcony where royal proclamations were announced. It was a huge circular ark with elegant, intricate design, that's high enough for a huge crowd to see anyone standing there clearly from below. 

Ivan followed suit, stepping just a bit behind his friend as the courtyard below was slowly filling with people. "What's going on?"

"I invited the citizens," Alistair replied as his amethyst eyes hardened as he looked at the gathering throng below.

Ivan became more worried. Since Alinea's death, Alistair's reputation to the masses had been thrown in the mud, as the people thought that he was the one who had his sister assassinated. It was not a secret that a revolt – a new one designed to completely overthrow Alistair even without a successor was brewing.

For the people, Alistair was a fake king – someone who was weak and spiteful enough to kill his own sister, the rightful heir to keep his power. Why? Because it was Alinea who they said who had the divine inheritance of Perun. The massive purple lightning seal of the King of Heaven they had seen the princess exploit during the war was proof of that. Nobody could use the special seal of the Lightning God except for his blessed children.

Alistair who had never used lightning, even a weak type was clearly not a child of Perun in their eyes, therefore not eligible for the throne. The people, with their anger, wanted him gone.

Ivan watched as the huge courtyard was finally packed with an angry yet silent mob. For now, they had no idea what was going on and so they remained quiet, although their faces show their disapproval, disdain, and dissatisfaction towards the reigning monarch. They all looked up at the solemn-looking Alistair on the balcony, waiting and wondering what could the fake king probably wanted from them to invite them all here.

Soon, they found out why. At the king's command, several soldiers in full armor appeared and took their places in front of the crowd. They were in full silver and gold armor – Ritz kingdom's color with their flags, weapons, and shields.

Afterwards, a huge gate on the side opened, and another set of soldiers led by the great Lord Fredek, the handsome bespectacled young noble, a notable wind caster, and the king's right-hand man appeared. They marched towards the center of the courtyard behind the armored soldiers, dragging several people who were tied, and struggling with their mouths gagged.

The Flame Emperor's eyes narrowed as he recognized the captives. They were the people from the oldest noble clans in Ritz – Alistair's solid supporters. They were the fiercest champion of the king, the ones who pushed the young prince to succeed the throne and placed the crown on his silver head.

Now, these people were here, bound and gagged, their eyes wild and accusing as they glared at Alistair who was looking at them coldly from above.

The crowd who had been watching also recognized the captives, and began whispering among themselves. But of course never in their wildest dreams could they guess the reason for this public condemnation and humiliation.

With Alistair's assent, Fredek signaled the soldiers to remove the gags of the prisoners who automatically cried and pleaded for the king to release them.

"Your Highness, have mercy on us."

"Your Majesty, why are you doing this to us?"

But Alas, their pleas fell on deaf ears as Alistair didn't even flinch upon seeing their obvious suffering. Seeing as the king was not moved, the nobles' cries for mercy turned into intimidation.

"How dare you do this to us after all the support we have given you?"

"You dare turn your sword against us who had put that crown you wear so proudly on your head. Without us, you would be nothing!"

Their scorns, however, didn't rile up the cold looking king. Instead, amusement finally appeared in his earlier hard amethyst gaze. Even Ivan who remained quiet as he watched on couldn't stop himself from shaking his head upon hearing such stupidity uttered in Alistair's presence.

"Oh? Pray tell me how am I nothing without you," the king egged on, which the nobles happily answered, with the aim to humiliate him in front of the people.

"You are nothing but a décor! You might be smart but you're nothing more than a normal human."

"Your blood's totally diluted to even have a tiny bit of divine inheritance within you. Without us, you wouldn't be king!"

A deafening silence ensued after that statement. Everyone waited for the king's reaction and was dumbfounded when Alistair suddenly threw his head back to laugh out loud.

"The king has gone mad!"

The noble who got insulted by the king's mirth became more enraged. "Do you see this, people of Ritz? This man here is a fake ruler of the kingdom! A disgrace for a king – that even his sister could easily win against and overthrow !"

Alistair stopped laughing then, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "Power? Divine inheritance?" he scoffed, as he looked at each and every noble whom he detested with every fiber of his being. "Why would I need such insignificant things?"

The Ritz King's voice echoed in the courtyard, sending chills to everyone including Ivan. He recognized that danger, and he stepped a couple of paces backwards as he knew what would follow suit.

"You want a show of power? I will give you one!"

Alistair raised his hand and a precarious aura enveloped the place. The wind which started as a soft breeze became stronger, creating small tornadoes the filled the yard.

WHOOOOOOOOSH

Everyone ducked as they shielded their faces from the strong gusts, raising their arms to fend off the explosive wind. But when it stopped, to everyone's horror, fourteen giant harpies surrounded the area with some smaller ones standing on the roof of the castle.

However, what was more terrifying were the green and blue giant beasts, one twenty-meter high, the other eighteen meter-tall – the biggest among the harpies which were recognizable by their size and color. They were the same harpies that people had sung in folk songs and read in legends. 

Ocypete and Podarge – two of the Wind God's three greatest weapons. The only missing one was Aello, the red and the most volatile and mischievous among the trio of harpy sisters. It must have been in a pact with someone else at the moment ergo its absence. 

Ivan narrowed his eyes as the air became viscous, and oppressing. Alistair had fully unleashed his Divine powers, and everyone except the Flame Emperor and Fredek who knew the Ritz King's real identity was stunned.

"You want power? Then here it is," Alistair announced as everyone fell on their knees in horror, realizing their king's true self.

"I-It's S-Stribog!"

"It's Stribog – the God of Wind himself!"

"Our king is Stribog!"