By Autumn's Fading Light
Note: It's the last day of the Arslan Senki Fall Festival and this was the hardest to write for. I was just tapped out of ideas but I was determined to post something so I rustled this little thing up and hopefully it's still a bit worth reading.
Set some time towards the end of the second season. A short, simple piece to wrap up the week. Hope you like it!
.
.
.
The young prince sighed as he watched the sunset, red covering the treetops and the hills near Gilan and a golden light spreading across the sea. He was standing alone on the balcony of the viceroy's palace, simply gazing at the breathtaking view before him.
There was so much still to be done but he was exhausted and he had wished for even a few hours alone, away from his cares, if only to regain his strength. But he was always pensive at this time of day, and he could not help but reflect on his circumstances.
He felt a chill in the breeze. Summer was truly over, and the next season would bring with it new challenges to face. He would have to challenge both his royal cousin and his lord father as well as Lord Guiscard and all the forces of Lusitania. The fate of both the people of Pars and the refugees from Lusitania.
He had made promises and he meant to keep them. But every now and then, he was overwhelmed by all his responsibilities. But when he thought of all the people relying on him, on all those who had put their faith in him, even when he doubted himself, his courage rose. He was determined not to disappoint any of them.
But he still had his moments of doubt. He sometimes felt that he was so small, just one person in the face of impossible odds. He was not as strong or as clever or as brave as other kings who had gone before him. How could he succeed where they had failed?
"I cannot let myself be defeated by despair," Arslan reminded himself, "My friends have shown their tireless support for me through everything. I will not let their efforts be in vain."
.
.
.
While the young prince was lost in his thoughts, one of his companions was observing him carefully. Étoile stared at him in awe, not only because she remembered all he was about to do for her people, but because she knew that no one else would have listened to her proposals. He alone gave importance to her ideas, and for this she was infinitely grateful.
By autumn's fading light, the lone figure on the balcony seemed to be surrounded by an almost celestial glow. And with his pale complexion and silver hair, Arslan suddenly appeared like someone not of this world, Étoile thought in wonder.
How strange to think of him in such terms when she had believed for so long in the baseless rumors about the monstrous son of King Andragoras, a beast with twisted horns and a large mouth. How could anybody think of him as monstrous?
She had seen some real monsters in the course of this war. And she did not doubt that she would see even more horrors before it was over.
And for all his appearance of innocence, Arslan had seen darkness too. She knew that now. But he had not allowed hatred and anger to blacken his heart. He had not allowed his pain to consume him, as others had. And she hoped that he would continue to have the strength to resist the forces that so easily corrupted those in power.
The prince turned away from the balcony and somehow, his eyes met hers. Étoile blushed slightly but held his gaze. He looked surprised at first and then, he smiled at her warmly, and she barely felt the autumn chill. She smiled back.
Everything was about to change. So they were both grateful to have savored some final moments of freedom before the world reclaimed them both.