Finally the Lyon oneshot. It was lying on my computer longer than I wanted because of a "Everything I write sucks" mood lately. But finally it's here and you amy read it now. Have fun.
Edited for punctuation and re-adding scene breaks, July 1st 2011
Cries filled the castle. But it was not the sound of an attack, of dying men or worse. No, it was the sign of a happy occasion and the cries made the knights and servants of the Imperial Castle of Grado cheer. Finally, after two miscarriages and one stillborn child, a prince was born.
The Emperor, the highest nobles of his court and his Generals were in the drawing-room of the Emperor´s private rooms and were celebrating the new heir. Vigarde had called for the best wine of Grado and the finest snacks had been brought with it.
"Finally an heir," Vigarde sighed relieved, when he and his most trusted general, General Duessel, were standing a bit apart from the rest of the celebrating men. Duessel nodded and sipped at his wine. "I nearly lost hope after the last... one." Vigarde chocked back the word "son" and took a big gulp of wine. Duessel nodded again. He had seen how the lost children had affected his liege and the Empress. The Empress was of a frail constitution and each death had further deteriorated her health. She had grown weak and many had doubted that she could ever give birth again. Emperor Vigarde had had to sustain the horror of the death of his children and the fear for his wife. It had taken its toll on both; the Empress was only a shadow of her former self and the Emperor had gained many new lines on his face.
"This is truly a happy day," Duessel said, ignoring Vigarde´s slip."Have you already decided on a name?"
A smile hushed over Vigarde´s face. "Yes." He seemed to regain his felicitous mood. "I decided to name him after my father, Lyon."
"He was a great sovereign," Duessel acceded. "With such a name he will grow into a fine man." Vigarde chuckled lowly.
"With your help he surely will." Duessel startled and turned to his liege. There was a sincere and expectant smile on his face. Duessel immediately bowed deeply.
"My lord, this is too much honour for me alone. But I will do everything in my power to not disappoint you."
"I know you will." Vigarde turned his gaze back to the crowd and drowned his wine. Duessel had straightened again and copied his liege´s stance.
The other nobles noticed the two men standing at the edge of the party and several decided to end this state. Soon Vigarde had to listen to the predictions about his son and his future deeds again, but it obviously didn't bother him. He enjoyed it.
Soon, however, the elated atmosphere was broken. A bishop with scanty hair entered the room, wiping his forehead with a dirty handkerchief, and searched the crowd for the Emperor. Vigarde noticed him almost immediately and his expression froze. He knew this man; he was the personal doctor of the Empress. The bishop wore a nervous and fearful expression on his face and looked extremely uncomfortable.
"My lord," the man said with a bow, when he had reached Vigarde. The Emperor stood still. "My lord, I... " The bishop wiped his forehead again and then crumpled the handkerchief slightly. "I bring bad news." He whispered so to not attract much attention, but unfortunately a very noisy lord stood in the vicinity of him and heard every word.
"Bad news!" the man exclaimed and immediately the attention of the whole room turned to the bishop. The elderly man looked frightened and dabbed his neck with his handkerchief. "Don't tell us that something has happened to the prince!"
"No, no," the bishop quickly assured. "Nothing of that kind." His gaze flickered to the Emperor. Vigarde stared at him with a stony face. "My lord... " He drew in a shaky breath. "It is the Empress."
"The Empress!" the noisy lord exclaimed and shocked chatter arose. Vigarde stood motionless. The bishop licked his lips nervously. Suddenly the Emperor set in motion. The bishop startled at the sudden movement and quickly trailed behind him, both leaving the room. The guests remained behind.
The bishop tried to explain to the Emperor what had happened and how the Empress was faring, but he could barely keep up with Vigarde´s long strides and was quite out of breath. He gasped out the information though it seemed like Vigarde didn't listen to him anyway.
"My lord, it was very- difficult for her. She- was very weak to begin- with," the bishop wheezed. "The birth- was a great strain- on her. We don't know- if she's going to survive." Vigarde suddenly stopped. The bishop nearly ran into him. Startled he looked up at the broad back of the Emperor.
"Be quiet," he whispered coldly. The bishop swallowed scared and nodded hastily.
"O-of course, my lord." Vigarde moved again and this time the bishop followed him in silence.
Soon they reached the door of the infirmary. After the stillbirth the healers had suggested that should the Empress ever go into labour again, she should be close to the medical equipment so that she could be treated immediately. They could already hear the unsettled bustling about.
Vigarde threw open the door. When it banged against the wall, the inhabitants of the room jerked around. The young nurses whitened and hastily averted their gazes, returning to their respective tasks. The head healer had been sitting next to the only occupied bed and was now slowly walking over to the Emperor. Vigarde fixed his eyes on him.
"My lord," the head healer said tiredly and bowed. Vigarde´s eyes flickered over to the bed. He could see the top of the head of his wife, but most of her was screened by other healers. "I fear that we can't help her."
"So she is going to die?" the Emperor asked with a heavy and almost inaudible voice. The head-healer nodded gravely and the bishop dabbed his forehead again. "Where is my son?" Vigarde choked out.
"Over here." The healer guided Vigarde over to a cradle. The tiny prince had already been wrapped in a fluffy blanket and was blinking tiredly at the bustling persons around him. The Emperor stared at his tiny son for a minute in wonder. He could still remember the shock and coldness that he had felt when he had looked at his stillborn son almost two years ago. But this child, this beautiful and adorable child was breathing.
"Has she seen him?"
"Only for a few moments. She could barely stay awake," the healer explained. "But she would surely love to see her son before she goes." Vigarde nodded and slowly reached out for the babe. It was a strange sensation to touch the child, to lift him up and to cradle him in his arms. Maybe because it had felt like a dream before, as if in reality there was no child, that he had died like his siblings before. But now Vigarde could feel his warmth, could hear him breathe, could see his movements and he felt real.
Vigarde felt joy. More joy than he had expected. But he couldn't enjoy it. He could not enjoy the life of his child while his wife was leaving this world.
He turned slowly and walked over to the bed. The healers and nurses immediately stepped back and the head healer ushered them out of the room. There was nothing they could do to help the Empress anyway. Only he and the bishop remained in the background.
Vigarde stopped at the edge of the bed and looked down at his wife. She was sleeping, or maybe just too tired to keep her eyes open. Her face was white and sweat clung to her skin. Her light blue hair framed her head and made her skin look even more unhealthy. He gently sat down next to her. She seemed to feel the shift of weight and opened her eyes.
"How are you feeling, my love?" the Emperor asked lowly. The babe yawned and started to wriggle. This caught the Empress´ attention and a tired smile appeared on her face.
"How is he?" she asked with a teary voice. Vigarde moved to hand the squirming child over, but she immediately shook her head. "No. I can't hold him." She almost sobbed, but she restrained herself. She was a prideful woman and hated to appear weak or to be pitied. Her body was already fragile and frail, her mind did not need to be the same.
"He's beautiful," Vigarde mumbled and tried to hold his son so that she could see him. Her smile widened and her eyes watered. She shakily reached out for him and gently stroked his cheek.
"He is." Her arm fell to her side again. Her gaze grew slightly desperate. "Please look after him. Protect him."
"Of course I will," Vigarde chocked out and unconsciously pressed his son closer against his chest.
"I don't want to leave you here alone." Vigarde balanced his son on one arm and grabbed his wife´s hand with his now free one. He gently stroked it and seemingly tried to think of something to say but could find no words. His wife just watched him with tears in her eyes. Their son yawned every now and then, squirmed a bit or sucked on his fingers.
Eventually Vigarde found his voice again. "I've wanted to call him Lyon."
"A beautiful name," she murmured. It seemed to get harder for her to keep her eyes open.
"Sleep," the Emperor mumbled and squeezed her hand gently. She smiled at him sadly and obeyed.
Vigarde remained with their son at her side until she ceased to draw breath. Only then he stood up, left the room with his son and walked to his and his wife´s bedroom. He met nobody on the way, probably because they were avoiding him. Only when he had reached the room and had sat down in the cushioned chair next to the window, he started to cry. And disturbed by his father´s sobs, Lyon cried with him.
...xOx...
"He's a weakling!"
"Valter!" a sandy-haired man hissed at his grey-haired companion. "How dare you insult the prince? That could cost you your head." Valter snorted disdainfully at that and leaned his lance against the wall.
"Are you going to snitch me, Glen?" he asked with a challenging grin, sitting down on a stool and starting to undo the straps of his leg armour. Glen threw him a nasty look.
"I will if you don't stop." He turned his back to his fellow wyvern rider and discarded his gloves.
"Don't tell me you think differently!" Valter exclaimed from behind and laughed loudly. "Did you not see how he struggled just to do the basic routines? He will never be a warrior. Or even be able to lift a sword without breaking into sweat."
"Valter, shut up," Glen said slowly and with a threatening undertone. Valter just shook his head amused and stood up. The blond man sighed annoyed and walked over to help his companion with his chest armour.
The smirk did not leave Valter´s face while Glen was opening the straps of his grey armour. "I wonder what the Emperor thinks of his own son." Glen lifted questioningly an eyebrow and opened the last strap. "Do you think he's disappointed that his son is so weak?"
"Why can't you just stop?" Glen asked annoyed and let the other man slip out of the armour. "Yes, the prince has unfortunately the same frail constitution as his late mother-" He handed back the armour to its owner. "- but he has a good heart and will be a great ruler." Valter snorted again and placed the armour on a rack.
"But that doesn't answer the question if the Emperor is disappointed." The grey-haired man threw Glen his typical smirk that made him look like some predatory beast. The blond wyvern rider tsked with a disdainful expression and turned around. Valter chuckled lowly and returned his companion´s former actions.
Only after Glen had put away his chest armour and made to discard the remaining metal, Valter began to speak again. "So, what do you think?"
Glen sighed annoyed. "Valter, since when do you care about my opinion?"
"I don't. I'm just curious." Glen flopped down on a stool some foot away from Valter who had started to polish his lance.
"I... I don't think that he's really disappointed. Prince Lyon is a fine lad. He may not be the strongest boy, but he is intelligent. He has everything a ruler needs," he concluded, shifting uncomfortably.
"As if Grado needs a weak emperor," Valter snorted. Glen shot him one last angry look, stood up and left the armoury.
Outside, he noticed a movement in the corner of his eye. The end of a purple robe disappeared around the corner. Glen stifled the curse that wanted to slip through his lips. He hoped that this didn't mean that Valter had dragged him into trouble again.
...o...
Emperor Vigarde stood at the window overlooking the courtyard. He had just returned from an audience and had hoped to catch a glimpse of his son´s training. Unfortunately it seemed like it was over already and now he was just absentmindedly watching his knights taking to the sky or fighting on earth.
His quiet reflection on his son´s progress lately was interrupted by a knock. He bid the guest to enter. General Duessel entered, bowed and asked his liege to speak openly about a serious matter. Vigarde motioned him over.
"My lord, I need to talk with you about Prince Lyon." Vigarde wrinkled his forehead.
"What happened?"
"Nothing bad, my lord. He is a good boy," Duessel emended. "But I think we should... alter his training."
"What do you mean?" Vigarde asked with a concerned frown and turned to look at his General. Duessel stroked his beard thoughtfully.
"I'm sure that you've already noticed that Prince Lyon has..." He hesitated shortly. "the same frail body as the late Empress and is susceptible to sickness. He hasn't much strength and tires quickly. I think that he is not suited for the sword." Vigarde had realized relatively early that his son was not a fighter. But still he had hoped that they were all wrong.
"What do you suggest?" the Emperor asked pensively, obviously suppressing a sigh, and turned towards the window again.
"My liege, I think the exercise is good for him and will strengthen him. But he can't do as much as other boys of his age can." Vigarde nodded slowly and slightly picked on his beard. "And about his military education... I've heard the High Scholar talking about Prince Lyon´s interest in magic. It seems that the Prince has a certain talent for magic."
"I see..." Vigarde turned to Duessel again, smiling slightly. "Then tell the High Scholar that I want him to take a closer look at the magical ability of the Prince." Duessel bowed and turned to leave the room, when suddenly the door was flung open, crashing into the wall.
"Papa!" the Prince cried out, clearly distressed and nearly in tears, running towards the two men. Vigarde crossed quickly the room, meeting his son halfway, and Lyon jumped into his arms.
"What happened?" the Emperor urged. Lyon pressed his face into his father´s cloak and did not speak. Vigarde carried him over to the chairs. Duessel seemed not to be sure if he should leave or not. Vigarde sat down with his son in his lap.
"Papa?" Lyon asked with a teary voice.
"Yes?"
"Are you disappointed in me?" Vigarde gazed at his son confused.
"Why do you think I would be disappointed in you?" Lyon sniffled and cuddled up to his father.
"They said you are disappointed, because I'm not strong. Because I can't even hold a sword without sweating."
"Who are 'they'?" Vigarde asked angrily and gently stroked his son´s back.
"Some knights." The Emperor´s gaze flew to his General. Duessel was wrinkling his forehead and looked appalled and angry.
"Did you hear their names, so we can punish them?" Lyon shook his head. Vigarde sighed annoyed and pressed a kiss on top of Lyon´s head. "Lyon, I'm not disappointed in you."
"Really?" he asked hopefully and looked up. Relief appeared on his face, when he saw his father´s gentle smile.
"Of course. You're my little treasure. You could never disappoint me." Lyon hugged his father as hard as he could. "But unfortunately it is true that the use of weapons is not your forte." Lyon clawed his fingers in the Emperor´s cloak and trembled slightly. Vigarde noticed his distress and immediately tried to dispel it. "But I heard that you like magic."
"Yes, I like it very much!" Lyon exclaimed happily. His father and General Duessel smiled at that.
"Then would you like Master Cornelius to teach you magic?"
"Yes! Then I can become strong too! Then nobody is disappointed anymore."
"Excellent!" Vigarde exclaimed with a laugh. "You shall become the best mage of Grado." Lyon giggled happily and slipped from his father´s lap.
"I will go to Master Cornelius now and tell him," the boy explained and eagerly sped out of the room. As soon as he had left the room, the smile fell from Vigarde´s face and he turned to Duessel.
"General, I trust that you will admonish the knights." Duessel nodded gravely.
"Of course, my lord." He bowed and left.
...xOx...
The Prince of Grado did not dislike social gatherings per se, but at this special occasion he did. It was a feast for the Prince and Princess of Renais with whom Lyon had quickly made friends. Normally that would have made him more than happy because there were few children of his age in the Imperial Castle. Unfortunately, the lords and ladies of Grado were occupying Ephraim and Eirika´s time and attention. Therefore the only people Lyon could converse with were the people that appeared on every ball and with whom he had talked so often that he nearly could recite their speeches. Hence, he often stayed at the edge of the crowd and observed the guests. Sometimes he heard interesting news, sometimes he heard things that he later wished he had not heard.
He was sipping at his wine and partially hiding behind a column when he heard a group approaching. Lyon could distinguish two male and three female voices.
"The Princess is a lovely girl. Her manners are exceptional!" one of the women exclaimed. The others mumbled their agreements. "And the Prince! I heard he has a great talent with the spear."
"I heard that he can already beat experienced squires," a man remarked.
"And that at only seventeen," the other man added.
"Really, so much superior to our Prince," a woman with a high-pitched voice said. Lyon flinched slightly and dropped his gaze. Her companions hushed her.
"Lady Victoria, how can you say that?" one of the other women hissed. "What if somebody hears you?" Lady Victoria only laughed. Lyon bit the inside of his cheek lightly.
"You worry too much, my dear Irene."
"That's right," one of the men said. "Nobody will listen to her insane babble."
"Sir Benedict, how can you say that?" Lady Victoria exclaimed with obvious false shock. The others laughed and she quickly joined them. "But you have to admit that Prince Lyon cannot compare with Prince Ephraim." Lyon heard the low consenting mumble of the others.
"Prince Lyon may not be as strong as Prince Ephraim, but he is as intelligent and benevolent as Princess Eirika," Irene interjected. "I think he will be a very just ruler. He will do Grado good." Her companions seemed not be of her opinion. Lyon heard them argue for a few minutes more while he was contemplating if he should stand up and go. They would see him if he stood up now and he seemed not to be sure if he wanted that.
"Oh, Irene, you silly girl!" Lady Victoria exclaimed, seemingly not willing to stop. "How will he ever win a joust or duel and become an honourable man if he cannot fight? How will he ever gain respect from his subordinates if he cannot fight? Besides, how can you compare Prince Lyon to a princess?" There was a silence. Lyon slowly turned the goblet in his hand and bit his lip. He felt his cheeks grow hot. "Can you really accept an emperor like him?"
"Yes, I can." Irene´s voice seemed to be stronger, more firm than before.
"You're delusional, Miss Irene," Sir Benedict said lowly and Lyon had to strain his ears to hear the rest of his speech. "Do you really think that the dukes and earls of the south will accept anyone who can't control them with force? The knights may follow him, because they respect his father, but I seriously doubt that they will trust him. You know how some men can practically smell the opportunity to increase their wealth. And when they see how soft and sweet-tempered our Prince is, do you really think they will miss this opportunity?" Lyon´s grip on his goblet tightened and his knuckles turned white.
"See, Sir Benedict understands me! My dear husband couldn't have said it better." Their other companions remained in silence. Lyon started to stand up, obviously not being able to listen to them any longer, no longer caring if they would see him leaving.
"Did you see Emperor Vigarde tonight?" the yet unknown man asked, probably to change the subject.
"Yes, I did," Miss Irene quickly answered. There was a undertone of relief in her voice.
"He seemed a bit... ill, didn't he?" the man continued. "He was rather pale and barely talked with the guests." Lyon froze, then sat down again and turned his head to hear them better.
"Yes!" Lady Victoria piped up. "He is only talking to King Fado and his children tonight. He even declined a conversation with my dearest husband. How rude! Even though he wanted to talk with him about something very important." She huffed annoyed. "But the Emperor just excused himself and told him to come again in the morrow."
"Maybe he was not feeling well. It sometimes happens," Miss Irene said, obviously trying to silence her friend. Lyon was grateful for her being there and trying to protect her friend´s honour.
"Well, maybe. But still!" Lady Victoria seemed not to be willing to stop her complaining. Lyon already feared that she would eventually spread her ideas and views further. His father would be disappointed if somebody like her destroyed the good mood with her malevolent spirit.
"Lady Victoria, would you care for a dance?" the unnamed man asked before Lady Victoria could continue.
"Oh, what a splendid idea! I would love to. My dear husband is still talking to one of his old friends and I already grew bored with this political chitchat. You are truly a darling." Lyon could see how the pair walked towards the dancing crowd. Lady Victoria wore an elaborated dress of a dark blue and her companion seemed to wear the colours of a noble family from the South-west of Grado, if Lyon recalled correctly. He was contemplating if he should tell his father about this discussion when the rest of the group entered his sight. One of them was a young girl, maybe about Lyon´s age and the man seemed to be her father. The other woman was older, but she looked too young to be the girl´s mother. They were walking past Lyon´s seat. Just before they disappeared behind the column to the right of the prince, the older woman noticed him.
Lyon tried to seem expressionless and just looked at her. She stopped slightly, curtseyed and smiled. Her companions didn't notice her little stop since they had been engaged otherwise and were talking to someone Lyon couldn't see. They disappeared in the crowd before anything else could happen.
Lyon thought he had seen pity in her eyes. It made him angry and frustrated, though these feelings quickly left and only a heavy depression remained. He stood up abruptly and walked around the crowd towards the seat of his father. The remark about his father had concerned him and he wanted to see for himself how he was faring.
He managed to reach the Emperor without any delay. Most people seemed to overlook him and at the moment he was glad about it.
"Father?" he stopped next to the Emperor´s seat. The nobleman his father had been talking with bowed to Lyon and excused himself. Vigarde turned to look at his son. Lyon bit the inside of his cheek. His father did look very tired and he had lost even more colour.
"What is it, Lyon?" The tiredness had already entered his voice.
"Father, would you like to retire? You look worse. Or should I call Master Samuel?"
"Yes, please call Master Samuel. I think I will keep up a little longer with more medicine," Vigarde answered tiredly. Lyon nodded reluctantly and called a page. He told him to fetch the head healer and when the boy left, the prince turned back to his father. He was smiling at him. "Thank you, Lyon."
"Don't mention it," he mumbled and took a seat next to his father. "How are you feeling?"
"Nothing bad. My chest hurts a bit when I breathe." Lyon wrinkled his head. "Lyon, don't look at me like that. It will be over in the morrow," his father said with a smile and put his hand on his shoulder.
"If you say so," Lyon answered lowly. Vigarde pulled his hand back and leaned heavily against the back of his chair.
"Say, have you already danced with Princess Eirika?" he asked in a light tone and looked over to where Eirika was standing with a few other ladies from Renais. Lyon blushed slightly.
"No, I haven't."
"I would like to see you both dancing before I retire."
"Alright." With that Lyon stood up, bowed to his father and left. His father followed him with his gaze and amusement twinkled in his eyes. He had noticed that his son was quite smitten with the young princess. He would love to see his son and the daughter of one of his closest allies joined in matrimony.
Lyon had managed to ask Eirika for a dance with only little stuttering and was leading her to the dance floor when he noticed the man clad in white advancing towards his father with a goblet in his hands. A relieved smile hushed over Lyon´s face before he could direct his whole attention to the lovely princess in his arms.
...xOx...
"How does he fare?"
Master Samuel sat down on the chair in front of the table with the magical herbs and liquids. Lyon remained standing opposite of him.
"Well..." the older man sighed and folded his hands in front of him. "It does not look good. The Emperor grows weaker and nothing seems to remedy this development. I've already tried everything I know and more. Master Lloyd tells me that the new potion he was working on is useless as well." Lyon swallowed hard and nodded.
"I see."
"I am deeply ashamed that we cannot do anything." Master Samuel shook his head with an angry snort. "This is a great humiliation for all healers at Grado Keep."
"I thank you for your efforts, Master Samuel," Lyon said with a nod and turned to leave. Master Samuel seemed to want to say more, but he refrained from it and only bowed.
Lyon closed the door quietly behind himself and walked back to his study. The lords and knights he met on the way greeted him as they should, but Lyon only gave them a curt nod in return. Most of the lords seemed to ignore his rudeness; they could see that he was troubled and absentminded. The others frowned at him and mumbled their discontent to their companions.
He soon reached the study, a room in the vicinity of the magic laboratories in the eastern part of the castle. It was stuffed with books on magic, healing and the myths of Magvel. Letters to and from magic scholars from different countries and recipes of already known and newly developed medicine lay sorted in stacks on the desk that filled out one third of the room.
Lyon sank down on the wooden chair next to the desk, with the giant bookcase in his back. He sighed deeply and put his head in his hands, supporting his arms on his knees.
"Father..." He remained in this position for some time, lost in his thoughts.
Until he stood up abruptly. He nearly ran out of the room, down to the dungeons and passing the offices of the researchers he was working with. Since Lyon had started to get interested in the arcane magic, this offices and the arcane library had become his second favourite place in the castle. At the end of the corridor was his favourite room. It was a sacred room; the Sacred Stone of Grado, the Fire Emblem, rested there on a pillar, placed on a purple cushion.
Lyon nodded to the guards of the Sacred Room and waited impatiently until the heavy doors were finally opened wide enough for him to squeeze through.
The door fell close behind him and he was left alone in the barely illuminated room. There were dark and heavy tapestries on the walls to the left and right. On the wall opposite of the door was a big painting of the fight of the Five Heroes against the Demon King. Many years ago the painting and the formidable atmosphere had scared him and made him cower behind his father. Now he barely paid any attention to it.
Lyon slowly crossed the room and stopped in front of the pillar and the gently glowing stone. He extended his hands and lifted the surprisingly heavy object up.
"My father is dying," he mumbled to the Stone and sat down, resting his back against the pillar. "They can't help him anymore. He can barely breathe anymore. He-" Lyon choked back a sob. "I'm going to lose him. I know it. And then I will be alone and no-one will be there for me. I can't do this." His voice began to shake and he clutched the Stone tighter. "How shall I ever be as great as my father? Nobody could ever take his place. I wish he could live forever." He pulled his knees up to his chest and rested his head on his knees. "I wish he had another son, a son worthy of the throne. Someone like Ephraim. ... I wish I could give him my life."
The Stone warmed up a bit. A tiny smile hushed over Lyon´s face. "Are you trying to console me? Why? I am right. I'm an awful heir. I can never replace my father. I'm going to be an awful emperor." The Stone shown a bit brighter. "Why can't you help me?" Lyon whispered and lifted his head, holding the Stone in front of his eyes. "You have so much power. Can you not release this powers and heal my father? I would do anything."
"Anything?"
Lyon jumped in fright and the Stone slipped from his grasp and landed on the floor with a strange metallic sound.
"Wh-who was that!" Lyon exclaimed shakily and scrambled to his feet, his gaze darting from here to there. He stood there, panting heavily, in the middle of the room, scared like a rabbit in front of a snake.
Nobody answered. Still panicked Lyon picked up the Stone and quickly placed it on the pillar, flinching back from it as if it had burned him. He hastened to the door and pounded against it. The guards opened it immediately and before they could ask him if something happened, he was already halfway down the corridor.
He returned to his study, locked the door behind him and only after an hour he dared to recall the cold voice that had resounded in his head and tried to work out what could have an inhuman voice like this.
...o...
The next morning he walked back down to the laboratory with dread in his chest. He avoided the room with the Sacred Stone and entered the library. Some of the other researchers were already there reading tomes, making notes or experimenting with colourful liquids. Most of them didn't notice the Prince and the few that did only nodded in greeting. Lyon was not appalled at this rude behaviour since he was too occupied with his own thoughts. He looked for the head researcher and found him in conversation with another man.
"Master Lloyd?" The head researcher looked up surprised.
"My prince." He nodded to him. The other man bowed and excused himself. "You look distressed," he observed emotionless. Lyon sat down opposite of Master Lloyd and avoided eye contact.
"Has something new happened?"
"You mean the potion?" Lyon nodded. "I'm sorry to say that it is a failure like the rest of them." Lyon put his head in one hand and massaged his temple. A grimace settled on his face. "I've already discussed it with Master Samuel. I thought he wanted to tell you about it."
"He did," Lyon mumbled.
"So you don't trust our words," Master Lloyd stated coldly. The prince flinched slightly.
"No-"
"It looks like it." Master Lloyd stood up and towered over Lyon, looking angrily down at him. "If you don't trust us to report to you about our work faithfully, why are you working with us? I will tell you the same I told my last investor; if you don't trust me and my judgement, I will leave."
"Please don't misunderstand me," Lyon quickly said. Master Lloyd sat down again. "I just wanted... to be sure." For the first time Lyon looked up to the other man. Master Lloyd stared at him with his expressionless grey eyes.
"I understand," the man answered and leaned back slightly. "Is that everything that you wanted to know?" Lyon sighed slightly and stiffened visibly.
"Well, no." He hesitated for a second. His gaze flew through the room, checking if someone was listening on them. "Have you ever heard a strange voice in the Resting Room?" The head researcher wrinkled his forehead confused.
"A strange voice?"
"Yes. A voice that makes you shiver. A voice so cold and creepy that you only want to run. It settles in your bones and makes them feel like they'll break any second. The voice... fills you with dread." Lyon stared at the stone floor, seemingly reliving the horrid experience.
"No, my prince. I've never heard a voice like the one you describe," Master Lloyd answered. He hesitated shortly before he continued. "When did you hear the voice?"
"Yesterday. When I was in the Resting Room alone." The researcher nodded slowly and turned to stare at the table next to him. He sat like this for a few minutes. Lyon was reliving the scene in his head over and over again and tried to find an answer for himself, but he came to no conclusion that he wanted to accept.
"I..." the head researcher slowly began and startled Lyon from his reverie. The prince gazed at the older man expectantly. "I fear that I know no answer to your question." Lyon´s face fell. Master Lloyd turned his head slowly to look at the prince. He seemed thoughtful and Lyon had the fleeting feeling that he was not telling him the whole truth. "I will see if I can find something in the books." Lyon nodded, dissatisfied and frustrated, and even angry.
"Do what you can." Abruptly he stood up, curtly excused himself and left. Master Lloyd remained at the table, obviously deep in thought again and something akin to worry began to creep on his face.
...o...
Lyon had withdrawn to a tiny office next to the Resting Room of the Sacred Stone. He had been hesitant to come near to it, but this office was the smallest one and it was rarely occupied. He had brought some of the books on the history of the Sacred Stone with him. After much thinking he had come to the conclusion that the voice really had come from the Stone. There was no other explanation.
Lyon knew what was sealed inside. But he didn't want to believe that he had heard his voice. He would rather go mad than think that he had been talking to him.
He was just opening a tome which was so old that the pages were already crumbling when one glared at them, when he heard yells. Confused, he looked up and stared tiredly at the door. He heard the doors near this office being opened and closed loudly.
The door to his office was flung open. "Prince Lyon!" a panting knight asked loudly. He didn't notice the prince at first; Lyon was partially hidden by the stacks of old tomes.
"What is it?" Lyon asked and stood up. The knight startled slightly and bowed quickly.
"Sire, I bring dire news. Master Samuel sends me to fetch you."
"My father..." Lyon mumbled in shock. The tiredness instantly disappeared from his face and cold fear replaced it.
"Yes, sire," the knight said stiffly, averting eye contact. Lyon walked past him without a second look. As if in trance he ran through the corridors towards his father´s sickroom. The nearer he came to the room, the paler he grew. In the course of the last few days his father´s condition had rapidly deteriorated and the healers were expecting his death every day now. They had not openly talked about it, but it was in the air.
He stopped abruptly in front of the sickroom. He took deep breaths, obviously trying to calm down before he faced his father. His condition was critical and any new commotion was a danger that could push him over the edge.
Lyon gently opened the door. Three heads turned towards him; the head healer, who was kneeling next to Vigarde´s bed, Master Lloyd, who stood a bit in the background and General Duessel, who was at the head of the bed. The General had seemingly been talking to the Emperor before Lyon had disturbed them. Now he was stepping back and positioned himself next to the head researcher.
Lyon remained standing in the doorway for a few seconds. Only when the head healer stood up and gave him an unobstructed view on his father, Lyon moved.
Emperor Vigarde lay on his bed, covered with a blanket that was as white as his face. The deep-set eyes and hollow cheeks made him look like a corpse and on first glance one thought he already was one. Lyon fell to his knees like a sackful of potatoes.
"Father?" he whispered with a shaking voice. His father´s eyes fluttered slightly. It seemed like he was struggling to open them. Lyon grasped his father´s big hand in his small one. He could feel every bone.
"Lyon..." Vigarde said in a raspy voice and finally opened his eyes.
"Yes, father."
"It's good to see you." Lyon squeezed his hand tightly. Vigarde smiled at him tiredly; it looked more like a painful grimace. "Lyon, I trust that you will be a just ruler and protect Grado."
"Father, no," Lyon interrupted him panicly. "I- I can't. Please don't say such things. You will continue to be the emperor for many years." Vigarde sighed nearly inaudibly.
"Lyon-"
"No!" Lyon shook his head. "No, we will find a way." He choked back a sob and pressed his father´s hand against his chest.
"Don't deceive yourself," Vigarde said, seemingly trying to look at his son sternly, but he only accomplished to look even more tired. "We both know that I will last no longer." Lyon violently shook his head again.
"Father-"
"No." Despite his weakness Vigarde summoned enough authority in his voice to silence his son. "Lyon, I want you to promise me something." Lyon nodded quickly, no longer holding back his tears. "You will rule in my stead. You will only listen to your own conscience. Don't let other people influence your judgement. An emperor needs a clear head and a strong will."
"But, father-" Vigarde raised his free hand only a few centimetres, but it immediately silenced Lyon.
"Lyon, I know you. I have trust in your abilities. Don't let other people tell you that you are weak. You are not." Lyon cast his eyes downward and bit the inside of his cheek. His shoulders sagged. "Lyon..." Vigarde whispered in a loving tone. Lyon could not look up yet. "I love you, my son. I've already told Duessel to watch over you in the first few weeks. You will not be alone."
Suddenly the Emperor coughed violently.
"Father!" Lyon exclaimed in panic. Master Samuel darted forward. Lyon did not move out of the way, so Master Samuel had to lean over him. He quickly checked on the Emperor, but after a quick glance he shook his head and returned to his former post.
After a moment Vigarde could calm down. "Lyon-" he began anew, but after only the one word he already had to stop again. Lyon bit his lip hard and watched his father through tear-clouded eyes. "Promise me," he eventually choked out and looked his son directly in the eye. It was obvious that this was his end, his last minutes, but he would not go before he heard the promise from his son.
Lyon only stared back for a moment. He was expressionless. Vigarde struggled visibly. The three spectators behind the two were frozen; two in nervous expectation of the worst, one in quiet sympathy.
Then the dam broke.
"No, father," Lyon sobbed and unconsciously squeezed his father´s hand so tight that it had to hurt him. "No, I can't. I'm not strong, I know it. I'm a weakling. I can't even hold a sword, I can barely fight my own battles. I'm soft, I can't punish anybody. I'm too nice to be a ruler. Nobody respects what I say. They only listen to me, because you are here. Without you I'm nothing to them."
"Duessel will-" Vigarde tried to object.
"How can they respect me if Duessel forces them?" It silenced the Emperor. "I will be the downfall of Grado." Lyon´s voice fell to a whisper. "You can't leave me."
"Lyon..." The prince heard the sorrow in his father´s voice, but he could not look up to see it in his eyes as well. Lyon´s hands were shaking horribly and he started to hastily stroke the back of Vigarde´s hand with his thumb.
"You can't," he repeated in his hushed whisper. "I'm weak. Everybody knows it." He finally looked up with a shaky smile, desperation oozing from his whole body. "You can't leave me." The smile fell at the sorrowful look on his father´s face. "Please."
"No, Lyon," Vigarde croaked. He had obviously to fight against the impending death. "You can do this." He smiled a last time at his son, and then lost the fight; his eyes fluttered close and his chest stopped moving. Lyon startled, opened wide his mouth as if to say something, but no words came out at first.
"No." It was a whisper at first. "No." It was his normal volume. "No!" It was a panic exclamation. "No!" It was a desperate cry from the depths of his soul at last.
Emperor Vigarde was dead.
"No! No!" Lyon jumped up and began to shake his father violently. "Wake up! Wake up!" His father´s head jerked back and forth with the motion. Duessel jumped forward and grasped Lyon´s hands. The young prince had a surprisingly strong grip. The general pried Lyon from the body and had to press the prince against his chest to stop his desperate fit.
He continued to scream and struggle, while Master Samuel stepped forward, covered the body with the blanket, knelt down and recited a prayer. Master Lloyd bowed his head slightly and silently joined the head healer. Duessel whispered calming words into the prince´s ear, but it didn't seem that he even heard him.
Lyon was sobbing loudly and had stopped struggling at some point during the second half of the prayer and was now hanging in Duessel´s arms. The general was watching the boy worried, while Master Samuel finished the prayer.
The head healer turned to the general and the prince. "My lord, we should take the body to-"
"No!" Lyon interjected harshly. He struggled to stand on his own again. Seemingly reluctant Duessel let go of him. Lyon swayed a bit on his feet, but he seemed to have regained some of his composure.
"But, sire, we have to-"
"No," he said more firmly. "Take him down to the second laboratory."
"My prince?" Master Lloyd asked confused.
"Now!" Lyon yelled in a strange voice. The three men couldn't pinpoint what this strangeness was and hesitated. "Obey me!" Master Samuel flinched slightly, while the other two men remained speech- and motionless.
"Yes, my lord," the head healer said and made his way to the door.
"Wait!" Lyon exclaimed hastily before Master Samuel touched the door knob. The older man turned with a hopeful expression. "You won't tell anybody about his death, you hear me? Nobody has to know about this. If- if you tell anybody, you will pay." His voice was shaking. But the three men could tell that the prince was dead serious.
"Yes, sire," Master Samuel quickly assured and fled from the room. The two remaining men had determined what this strangeness in their liege´s voice was; a whiff of madness.
"I have to go," Lyon said absent-mindedly. "You won't tell anybody," he repeated, before he hastily exited the room. General Duessel and Master Lloyd exchanged a worried glance.
Master Lloyd left to follow the prince, General Duessel left to do what had to be done; concealing that the Emperor of Grado was dead and the country seemingly without a leader.
...xOx...
Lyon was pacing in his office in the dungeons, seemingly deep in thought. There was something akin to a nervous expression on his face. He bit his lip, wrung his hands and his gaze darted from the ground in front of his feet to the door and from there to the wall that separated this room from the Resting Room. He was nervy, jumped at every sound and was sweating more than normally.
He looked like someone who had got himself into a corner and saw only one way out. A way that he probably shouldn't even think about choosing.
He had already spent half of the day in this manner. Only a few times someone had dared to enter the room; most of them only remained as long as they had to and then fled as fast as they could. The haunted look on the prince´s face had scared them.
Suddenly he had a strange fit. He jerked to the door and stopped dead in front of it. He turned back. After two steps, he stopped again, squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his fingers on his eyes.
"No, no, no..." he mumbled lowly and shook his head. Lyon was seemingly fighting to regain a certain degree of calmness. When he was calm enough for his liking, he grabbed two tomes from his desk and left the room with a strong stride.
He passed the guards of the Resting Room without regarding them. His gaze fluttered to the door for one second, but with a surprisingly strong will he did not stop.
His walk was a solitary one. Lyon was walking towards the deepest chambers in the whole castle. Apart from a few cellars and old store rooms nothing else was down there. On the order of the Emperor one of these old store rooms had been modified so that his son and the other researchers could use it for the experiments that needed more space.
In this room the dead body of the Emperor was lying.
Lyon entered without any hesitation. He had been to this room many times before. In some nights he was down here to talk with his father. It seemed that the silence of his counterpart didn't bother him. Lyon was calmer after these talks and more composed.
There were a few researchers in there, all clad in their dark robes. Lyon directly headed towards Master Lloyd. The man noticed him and stood up from his crouched position; he had been kneeling next to the Emperor.
"My prince," he said with a bow of his head.
"I made some notes and I think that I found a new possible treatment. Please take a look at it." Master Lloyd nodded to one of the researchers. A man with greyish purple hair stepped forward and took the tomes.
"Put them on my desk, Knoll." The man nodded and left the room.
"Master Lloyd, how did it go?" Lyon asked agitated. Master Lloyd shook his head and turned to the Emperor. Lyon followed his gaze. His father lay there oblivious to the world around him. His whole face was sunken, his cheek bones stood out and the skin was seemingly taut and slack at the same time. His body was hidden by his wide robes, but the rest of the Emperor certainly didn't look much better.
"Not well, my prince. It did nothing. We are still watching him, but I have no hope that something is going to happen in the future." Lyon suppressed a sigh and clenched his fists.
"Why?" he whispered, not really talking to Master Lloyd, but the older man answered anyway.
"We don't know. Maybe the potion was too weak, maybe it was a failure anyway. Reviving humans is no easy feat." He turned to the prince and looked him deep in the eye. "It is an act against the Goddess. We are playing God. Maybe we humans are too weak to play God, maybe we're not." There was a gleam in his eyes, the gleam of strong but unhealthy ambition. "But we can certainly try." A rare smile entered Master Lloyd´s face; it made him look creepy.
Lyon stared at his father dejectedly. Master Lloyd continued to talk about their next plans and future potions and rituals, but Lyon was not listening. He just stood there, watching the dead body, noticing how the decay was slowly destroying the face he knew so well.
"We have no time," he mumbled to himself and turned to leave the room.
"My prince?" the head researcher asked in a tone that sounded like surprise. Lyon left without answering.
He walked as if in trance. The guards of the Resting Room let him pass without questioning.
The door fell close behind him. The Sacred Stone was lying in front of him, glowing innocently. Lyon swallowed hard and wiped his hands on his robes. With a slightly nervous expression he cautiously stepped forward until he stood so close that he could feel the gentle glow on his skin. He raised his hands; they were shaking slightly.
He hesitated, and doubt and fear contorted his face for a second. He fought them and seemingly won; he lifted the Stone on eye-level.
He licked his lips nervously. "H-hello?" Nothing answered. "Are- are you there?"
"So you come crawling back?"
Lyon nearly let the Stone slip from his grasp. He shivered, but bit on his lip and seemingly collected himself. "Yes. Are you-" He licked his lips again. "Are you the Demon King?"
"What will you do if I say 'Yes'?" There was something that sounded like a chuckle, but it felt like someone had thrown Lyon into a bathtub with ice.
"I want to ask for something." There was a short silence. Then the chuckling came again and Lyon shivered.
"I see. You want to bring back the dead." Lyon startled and goggled at the Stone. His mouth shot open, but no words came out. The Demon King chuckled again. "You want someone else to take your place, no matter who."
"What?" Lyon asked shakily and took a step back.
"Yes, you wish that you were someone different." The voice sounded cold and malicious. Lyon wanted to run, but he couldn't. His legs didn't move. "You wish that you could be stronger. Like your father, like your little princely friend, like all those soldiers. Even that little princess is stronger than you." The Demon King laughed loudly. A wave of cold humiliation swept over Lyon and it brought him to his knees. "You are truly worthless."
"Yes." A sob accompanied the whisper.
"Therefore you need me."
"Yes," Lyon said hastily with a shaky voice and an undertone that reminded one of the babble of a madman. "I've read in the books that you commanded a legion of undead. You can revive humans." Lyon clutched the Stone tighter. "Please help me," he begged. "Please revive my father."
"Too weak to live on his own. Too weak to face the doubters. Too weak to trust himself." Lyon sobbed again. "I like you," the Demon King said with another laugh. The prince didn't shiver this time. "I will help you, if you do something for me."
"Everything!" Lyon immediately shouted. He began to stroke the Stone hastily with shaking hands. "I will do everything. Please help me."
"Release me."
...o...
Knoll had returned from Master Lloyd´s study after being delayed by another researcher and entered the store room. An incredible sight greeted him.
The Emperor was standing.
The researcher stared at the imposing figure in shock, though it showed not on his face. The other researchers were standing at a respectful distance from the former lifeless body; only two persons were close to the Emperor. Master Lloyd gazed at the living dead with a strange expression; his eyes had an uncanny gleam and a cat-like smile was on his face. The prince had his back turned to the newcomer.
"What happened?" Knoll whispered. The prince turned around with a curious expression.
"Oh, hello," he said slightly confused. "Ah, your name is Knoll, isn't it?" A strange peaceful smile appeared on his face. "You're one of the researchers. I've great news. My father is back."
"Back, my prince?" Lyon turned back to the standing Emperor. Master Lloyd was walking around the man and studied him from all sides.
"Open your eyes, father," Lyon whispered and extended his left hand, letting it hover before Vigarde´s arm, as if too afraid to touch him yet.
To the surprise, shock and elation of everyone the Emperor opened his eyes. He was directly looking at Knoll. The researcher startled; the Emperor´s eyes were dull, lifeless.
A relieved smile crept on Lyon´s face. "It worked," he whispered so lowly that nobody heard him.
Knoll slowly, cautiously walked up to him. Lyon was clutching something glowing to his chest with his right hand.
"My prince, what is that?" The prince slightly tilted his head, watching his father´s face.
"This?" He moved to show Knoll the Stone. The researcher gasped inaudible. The Sacred Stone was split. One half was glowing as bright as it had been normal for the whole Stone. The other half had an eerie glow; it was not yellow anymore, but of a gentle purple. It radiated uneasiness. "This is the Dark Stone." Lyon tilted his head the other way, now looking down at the Stones, and took the Sacred Half with his left hand, holding both halves on eye-level. "It gave my father the power to come back. It is so much more powerful than... this." He nearly spat at the Sacred Half. "I don't need this."
He crushed it.
Knoll stared at him with wide eyes. "M-my prince, what are you doing?"
"We don't need the Sacred Stones." The prince let the still glowing dust fall to the ground. "Only four remain..." he whispered. "I will destroy them." He fell silent, almost thoughtfully gazing at his father´s unbudging face. Knoll observed him unsettled. The other researchers were whispering among themselves and Master Lloyd had seemingly finished his inspection of the revived Emperor.
"My prince, what are we to do now?" he asked eagerly.
"Fetch the Generals." The head researcher looked confused at this. "We have to get rid of the Sacred Stones. We only need the Dark Stone." He looked down at the Half and a weird smile entered his face.
"Destroying the Sacred Stones?" Knoll and Master Lloyd asked surprised at the same time. Knoll was clearly shocked and seemingly grew wary. Master Lloyd on the other hand grinned elated.
"How intriguing," the head researcher said, mostly to himself. "I wonder what will happen if we lose them. This is the greatest experiment I have ever heard of. I will fetch them immediately." Master Lloyd turned to the door and left.
Lyon had looked up at his father again and smiled dreamily at him. Knoll swallowed heavily and his gaze hushed to the other researchers. Some looked intrigued as well, others were obviously as wary as Knoll himself and the rest was plain scared.
"Leave," Lyon suddenly whispered.
"My prince?" Knoll asked surprised.
"Leave!" the prince yelled. The group of researchers startled violently and hurried towards the door. Knoll hesitated. He stared at Lyon´s back for a second. It seemed that the prince had grown; he looked somehow different. "Did you not hear me?" Lyon hissed in a creepy voice.
"Y-yes," Knoll answered and quickly left. The voice hadn't sounded like the prince´s voice; it was a cold voice, almost inhuman.
After the door had fallen close, Lyon pocketed the Stone. He and his father were alone now. "Father..." he whispered with an euphoria he had never known before. He extended his arms and hesitated for a second. Then he embraced his father, cautious at first, but as soon as he felt the movement of his father´s chest, heard the regular breathing, he hugged him as tightly as he could and cuddled up to him. "Oh Father, I'm so glad that you're back." His father just stood there unresponsive. A childish smile was on Lyon´s face. "I've missed you. I love you."
Vigarde stared ahead unmoving. Lyon didn't seem to care.
I know that in canon Duessel doesn't know about the emperor being dead and revived. (Which I only noticed a few hours ago) But this still makes sense for me for various reasons:
1. Lyon was severly dependent on his father. The mere try to bring him back from the dead shows that Lyon has no confidence and his dependence.
2. I imagine that Vigarde´s death had a major impact on Lyon´s mind. He would not be able to conceal his father´s death from anybody. He needed help. And those two OC mages do not have enough power. There are only few people who I believe have the power to do that. And Duessel is one of them.
3. The only thing that Duessel really knows, is that Vigarde was dead and that Lyon revived him. He doesn't know that the Demon King is possessing Lyon and that Vigarde is only an empty puppet. Duessel believes that the "real" emperor is back. The strange behaviour that Vigarde shows afterwards is, in Duessel´s opinion, only an aftereffect of the magic. He still trusts Vigarde at the beginning. He slowly begins to doubt, but he wants to believe that Vigarde is still the man Duessel had known for quite some time, so the doubt comes not at once.
That's all I have to say. Hope you enjoyed your read.