Author's note - Please read

Greetings Readers! Please note that the story below has spoilers from Season 2 of the anime.

Also, I have chosen to use the 'Hilmes' spelling for Silvermask, though I am aware that some choose to use 'Hermes'.

Finally, I tried my best to make up archaic sounding sentences, but I am in no way knowledgeable about the field and therefore have no doubt made lots of mistakes! Please forgive!

That's all, please enjoy =)

Hilmes swayed on his feet as he looked around, carefully, cautiously; every person in sight was on the ground, gravely injured if not dead. He could not sense anyone nearby either. Having confirmed he was safe for the time being, Hilmes spat the blood in his mouth onto the ground, and turned to look at the young boy lying on the ground in the distance. There lied his despised enemy…Arslan; impaled, bleeding, dying.

Arslan!

Cursed Arslan!

At my feet; at my mercy!

Before he knew it, he was standing over the boy, whose gradually paling skin was all the more emphasised by the pool of blood bubbling out of his wound.

"Look upon yourself! Pathetic Arslan! Much you have sacrificed for the sake of others, and yet here you are, drowning in your own blood to die surrounded by enemies."

Hilmes kneeled down to get a good look at the boy's pained face. Covered in blood, sweat, mud and tears, the only unsoiled feature was the white of his eyes as his azure irises seemed to roll in and out of sight.

A foolish child like this…trying to become King. I had thought him nothing more than an eyesore; powerless yet a nuisance, a fitting puppet to dance upon the stage of my revenge.

"Your appeals for peace may have reached the hearts of many, to think that soldiers from my army and Andoragoras', and even Lusitanian barbarians would choose to drop their weapons upon your behest. Yet look upon yourself now! Still weak and naive, you have been defeated by the trickery of the Lusitanian Prince! What say you of this?!"

Indeed, if not for the cowardly, yet cunning ploy of Guiscard, Arslan would not have been separated from his subjects to suffer such a death.

He is not even of true royal blood…yet so many have chosen to follow him. So many have acknowledged him as their King.

What…is a true ruler?

"Even if you were to die by my hand now, it matters no more. By your death you have lost all that you were on verge of achieving."

Just as Hilmes noticed a sudden surge of energy seem to run through Arslan's limp body, the young boy's hand shot up and grabbed Hilmes' cloak, pulling himself up and bringing their faces close. Coughing blood, Arlsan gritted his teeth as he brought his gaze to meet Hilmes'; unwavering, unyielding.

"Lord Hilmes! When you become King, you shall do well to the people!"

Arslan's actions and words came as such a sudden shock that Hilmes seemed too stunned to react. He simply looked Arslan backed in the eyes as he tried the process the boy's uncharacteristically coarse voice.

"Hold thy hand to thy heart, and do not commit a single deed which shall cloud the righteous!"

Finally regaining some composure, Hilmes attempted to shake Arslan off.

"S-Silence you! What are you-"

Arslan's eyes and body seemed to sway unsteadily, but his grip continued to tighten.

"All people…The people of Pars and all else beneath the heavens…*cough*…all are equal, you shall…do well to the people!"

Panicked footsteps could be heard nearby. Hilmes turned to see Parsian soldiers round the corner into sight. The soldiers who had finally located their sworn liege Prince Arslan were overcome with grief before relief had time to set in, for not only was their Prince injured, he appeared to be in the hands of the Silver Masked Man.

A few men were sent to go find and bring Daryun while the rest charged towards Hilmes.

"HOLD! MEN!"

The soldiers came to a confused stop at their Prince's orders, but kept their weapons poised. Taking a pained deep breath, Arslan continued.

"THIS MAN BEFORE YOU SHALL BECOME KING! Serve him, and ascertain that he shall create a just and right kingdom! And if he shall not rule so, it is your duty to denounce him, and correct the kingdom!"

With those words, Arslan finally loosened his grip on Hilmes. All stood bemused, too shocked for words or action, as his body swayed gently…and fell back to the ground.

"YOUR HIGHNEEESS!"

Daryun's piercing voice broke through everyone's stupor, and following him more and more flew to Arslan's side.

Hilmes, still in a trance, allowed the forming crowd to gradually push him away from Arslan's side as he tried to process what had happened. Lifting his head, he saw Arslan exchanging final words with his subjects, and looking around he saw all who had gathered. Soldiers…nobles…former enemies…bandits and slaves….in denial, in despair, in mourning…

He would name me King? The loathsome Arslan…time and again renouncing my right to the throne…would tell me to be ruler?

Is it pity? Does he mean to humiliate me? What would he want of me?

What?

What does this mean?

What is his…

"He shall create a just and right kingdom!"

…

The fool…even in his final moments, he is of the people…he is of the country…

Hilmes turned again to look at Arslan, now utterly limp and white, the only motion being from his subjects shaking him in denial.

And he would have me achieve it?

A soldier approached Hilmes. With no weapon in hand, Hilmes prepared to accept his fate; however, the man slowly knelt down in front of him. Dumbfounded, Hilmes looked upon the soldier as more followed. Tears streaming down their faces, whole body trembling; Hilmes came to the realisation that these men must have been present when Arslan made his declaration.

Very well…very well Arslan, let me show you!

"HEAR YE ALL! Thou Lord Arslan hath breathed his last; but bravely did he fight for the sake of country, for the sake of peace, for the sake of a world he dreamed to reform in justice for all its people! Hear ye all! Let us sing in praise of all his glory, for hence day forth he shall forever be hailed as the Eternal King of our Brethren, Arslan the Liberator!"

"Hail, the Eternal King, Arslan the Liberator!"

~~~The End~~~

Extra:

(One month later)

"Daryun, I trust you will follow me?"

"Yes, Your Majesty Hilmes. I shall follow you, behind you at all times; should you ever betray the pledge you undertook that day, before His Highness Arslan's body, please do not forget that I shall be the first to strike you down."

"Very well. I would ask for no other. Fetch Narsus for me; he deserves not to indulge in painting when he failed to put his lord on the throne. I shall have him thoroughly serve this country."

"Yes, Sire."