The Work Begins
Anak marched slowly up the inclined path towards the palace gates. Yothr walked by his side, both bearing equally somber expressions. After telling the people in the slave quarters of Triac's promise, they had rejoiced raucously and held an impromptu Emuri in the secret underground chamber beneath Yothr's hut. Now, however, Anak and Yothr were making their way to the king to convey Triac's message, and give him the chance they were told to give. They hadn't the heart to remain jovial when facing such an important and impossible task.
"You're sure the Most High wanted you to bring me along?" Yothr nervously twined his fingers together as he asked in a shaky voice.
Anak patted the anxious old man on the shoulder to reassure him. "He did. He specifically cited you as 'a voice of wisdom.'" Anak smiled at blushing elder.
"He said that about me?" Yothr's expression lit up, his worry momentarily forgotten at the compliment from the Most High. "I will do my best then." Determination filled his features and his posture straightened considerably.
They walked in silence along the path. As they drew closer they saw more and more signs of the battles that had taken place just two days ago. Most noticeable were the scars lining the streets where Osk had used his magic to hastily close up Rygald's fissures. Passing by the place where the tower once stood, eerily empty of debris this morning, Anak recalled the night before just outside the slave quarter. As he and a host of supporters he had garnered after news of the battle spread drew near the gate, Azazel had emerged looking rather ragged and beaten. Anak had dismissed the others as he stood outside to converse with his biological father.
"Anak... you look well." The King of Fallen awkwardly stumbled through his words, unsure how to behave in front of his progeny.
"I wish I could say the same. Or rather... I wish I could wish that." Anak kept a rigid gaze locked onto Azazel's black eyes, much different from the radiant blue he remembered.
Azazel faintly blushed and acknowledged Anak's observations. "I have gone through some changes, it's true. I was a fool with a fool's blindness. I can see that much at least."
"Blind, but with the eyes of a star." Anak muttered involuntarily, his mind taken by the concept, and inadvertently recalling fondly the beautiful blue shade that used to represent Azazel.
Azazel stiffened at the words, and faint tears appeared at the corners of his eyes. "Anyway-" His voice was thick with emotion. "I just wanted to let you know you can do whatever you want with your life. You aren't my weapon. You aren't anyone's weapon."
Anak merely nodded. "I know. You were the one who needed convincing. I have great assurance."
Looking vaguely in the direction where Anak's heart lay in his chest, Azazel smiled. "Yes. You do at that." Directing his gaze slowly upwards as he seemed to consider the future, he informed Anak. "My Magus' Order will be leaving Ischuros tonight, tower, students, and all. don't bother looking for us, we'll be going underground for some time. Growing internally, before we spread externally, as it were. Not that you care." Azazel glanced back to see the glazing over eyes of Anak, who was rapidly losing interest in what Azazel had to say after the fallen started talking about his order's power. "Anyway, I just wanted you to know... I probably will never see you again."
Anak nodded simply once more. "Okay. Good journey." He turned to walk through the gate, cutting the conversation short.
"Is there nothing I can do or say to earn your forgiveness?" Azazel called out to his departing back. Anak didn't turn or answer, he just kept walking.
Yothr nudged Anak's side with his elbow as they approached the twisted palace gate. "Hey, snap to. We're getting close."
Anak shook himself from his reminiscence and straightened up. He wasn't sure how the gate guards would receive him, if he would be forced to fight his way into the king's chamber. All he knew was that Triac had said the king must be given one last chance to free the slaves of Ischuros, and Anak intended to follow through.
As they came ever closer, the gate guards finally noticed the pair. At first not reacting, taking them for every-day pedestrians, when they got a clear look at Anak's face they froze in panic, before scrambling to find a commander to report to or get instruction from. Finding no one, they ended up standing stiffly by the gate, acting as statues while Anak merely passed though their midst.
After he had departed, the two exchanged glances. Wiping sweat from his brow one spoke up, "I think it's best we say nothing."
The other shook his head violently. "What if he starts trouble? It'll be our fault. Let's pretend we're knocked out. They'll assume Anak did it." After receiving a nod of agreement, the guard promptly dropped to the dirt, feigning unconsciousness, his peer soon following suite.
Anak walked up the winding path to the imposing palace doors, where he stopped, staring up at the ornately carved marble slab of a door. "Should we knock?" He asked Yothr, using a jesting tone to cover up his nerves.
"I doubt they'll just open up the doors." Yothr responded in kind, making light of the serious situation.
Anak nodded, then turned to the door where he pounded out three heavy strikes with his large fist. The booming from his knocks echoed throughout the palace grounds. A bustling could be heard within, and finally with a groan the massive door slowly began to swing open.
"Who dares-!" A thunderous bellow choked off halfway as the figure of Anak was revealed through the widening crack. Sam-el, who had just charged ahead in anger to teach the rude knocking fellow a lesson, skid to a halt, confusion and fear on his face. "You! Why have you come here?"
Anak nodded at the captain of the guard. "You do your job well Sam-el. Don't worry, I am here on peaceable terms. No harm will cone to your king this day." Anak reassured him with a charming smile, sliding past the obstructive hulk of a man as he did. Yothr shuffled awkwardly past the confused Sam-el with a sheepish smile.
Anak walked briskly though the foyer to quickly reach the throne room, where the king would be at this time. He briefly wondered at the ease with which he made his way inside, thinking to himself it must be Triac's influence. Before he could consider it too deeply, he had arrived before the king, who, not expecting an audience, was locked in fervent conversation with a finely dressed young man on the side of the throne; it seemed to be about some military issue.
As Anak's footsteps echoed through the chamber, King Gel-ad spoke as he turned his head. "Sam-el, did you thro-" Eyes finally registering Anak's face, Gel-ad's throat constricted and his face contorted in an expression of unfiltered hatred. "YOU!!" His voice transitioned drastically into a low, rumbling scream. "You dare come back?!"
Anak took a deep breathe and prayed internally, 'Triac guide me,' as he readied himself to start the work for which he'd returned. "I have returned, Oh King. First, I offer you my deepest condolences for your loss. I assure you, the death of your son was not intentional on my part. I will atone if I must, but I ask you first hear me out."
Taken aback by Anak's humble attitude, the complete opposite of his expectations, King Gel-ad sat numbly in his seat, and gestured for Anak to continue. "You may speak." He barely managed to growl between clenched teeth. "And after, you will atone."
Anak nodded, and looked to Yothr, who returned his gaze with an encouraging smile. Turning back to the king, Anak held his head up high and declared. "I have come on behalf of my Lord and His people, my people. It is no longer just me asking, Oh King. The Lord Most High demands of you; set his people free. He offers you this once chance to willingly accept his decree."
Gel-ad's face twisted once more, sitting forward in his throne. "Demands? Decree? I let you speak, and you deign order me? Is this all you had to say?"
Anak shook his head, "It is not I who orders you, Gel-ad. The God of Life, Love, and Creation, your creator and Most High, has given these orders; I am but a mouthpiece. People are suffering, and He hears their cries. He will not ignore it."
The King reclined once more, throwing back his head in cruel laughter. "I know no such god. Who is he, to order me? I have more gods than one, you know." He glared at Anak with murderous intent."Why are these commands from a foreign god enough to make me spare you?"
"The Most High knew words would not be enough for you." Anak smiled a peaceful smile, and withdrew his staff from beneath his cloak. "I did not only come with a message, I also come with His wonders." With a sharp crack, Anak firmly planted his staff on the marble floor where it solidly stood even after he released it. Then it began to tremble.