Ep 49. Confessions of the Historian: A Divine Will


    Once upon a time…yes, there was such a time. A time when we were all mortals.


    Once the demonkind’s sacrilege became known to man, it did not take long to discover the heart that lied within the remains of the First. Weak as we were, each sought to claim the divinity for themselves…and proved that we were incapable of containing it whole. Piece by piece we tore the heart apart, until they would become the twelve fragments that we could contain.


    Lost in our craving, we deceived one another. Betrayed one another. Our weapons slashed and hacked through rulers and peasants alike.


    To attain divinity…to transcend the bounds of man, we long abandoned honor and dignity.


    But our conflict was short-lived. No, barely a decade had passed since the beginnings of this war for divinity. Until…


    ? ? ?


    “The divinity of death doesn’t protect the carrier from death itself…ha, it’s almost comedic how this has turned out.”


    “Kh…h…how...?”


    The emperor powerlessly gripped the blade buried in his abdomen. His shaking, bony arms tugged on the metal, but the weapon only slid further and further into his body.


    Holding the weapon’s hilt was the empire’s court mage. A satisfied grin was decorating his pale face.


    “Don’t you think so, emperor? The shard of life you thought so little of, was actually the sole power that could exempt one from death itself. What are you without your authority over death? Nothing. You’re just a powerless old man.”


    “Felicir…! You…you would dare…!”


    “And why wouldn’t I?”


    Felicir twisted the grip on his bloodied weapon, forcibly jerking it to the side. The rusted metal hacked through the fingers that held its blade, then through its victim’s bones and organs to appear out from the side with splatters of blood.


    Royal blood began to pool unto the marble floors of the throne room. Soon, a corpse powerlessly splashed onto the crimson liquid below, his eyes drained of their light.


    “And that, is why status doesn’t mean a damn, your radiance. Maybe you’ll remember it in your next life.”


    Felicir stabbed his blade into the emperor’s lifeless body once more, this time nearer towards his chest. The blade slowly carved into the flesh until it met resistance, and the court mage swiftly slashed out what he was looking for.


    He threw his weapon off to the side; it’d served its use. Bloodied hands rabidly tore off the pieces of meat to reveal a black, jagged stone. The mage briefly wallowed in its eerie black light, his grin widening at the fruits of his success.


    “It’s too bad you can only contain one at a time. I’ve grown quite fond of life and mana, but I guess all good things come and go…”


    Felicir threw his gaze over his shoulders.


    “Felicis, come here.”


    When her bloodied brother beckoned, Felicis slowly stepped out from the pillar she was hiding behind, approaching the court mage in wary steps. The siblings’ servant was trailing a few steps behind Felicis, equally wary of her crazed master.


    Felicir snickered at the sight of the two approaching women. Both his sister and their servant had always been afraid of him for some reason, and he’d never understood why; in this day and age, family looking out for one another was rare, and even rarer for servants. Even though an affectionate brother and owner like him should’ve been a blessing, they’d always been reluctant to reciprocate the affection.


    ‘Perhaps this will change things?’


    When they were right by his side, Felicir first reached into his black coat, producing another jagged fragment that glowed in blue. He held it out towards his sister, offering the stone.


    “Here, take it. It’s yours now.”


    “Ah…um…”Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    When Felicis hesitated to accept the gift, her brother grabbed her by the wrist to practically shove the divine’s shard into her hand. She gripped the stone with trembling fingers, and only then did Felicir let go of his sister with a satisfied expression.


    Once that was finished, the court mage held his hand over his own chest as another fragment emerged from within, glowing in its golden radiance. The shard of life that had allowed him to challenge their emperor revealed itself in his bloodied hands.


    “Now then. Aldrid.”


    “Y…yes, master?”


    “Here, take it. This is yours.”


    “But Master Felicir, I…”


    “Take it. I wouldn’t trust it with anyone else. Life and death are bound to conflict with one another, but we don’t have to do that, do we? Let’s take things easy, help each other out.”


    The woman’s hesitance slowly disappeared as she accepted the divinity shard. She firmly held it with both her hands, bowing her head.


    “Th…thank you. Thank you…”


    Felicir nodded approvingly as his servant graciously accepted the gift. He then held his newest prize above his chest, letting the death shard sink into his body in place of the one he’d taken out.


    “Hm…doesn’t feel very different. Good riddance.”


    But before any of them could celebrate the occasion, the throne room’s door burst open as an army of soldiers flooded in. A tall man adorned in jeweled armor led the group, holding a lavish, golden sword in hand.


    The emperor’s corpse was on the floor – as expected. He raised his weapon high into the air, trying his hardest to fake an angry outburst.


    “F…father! Felicir, to think you’d lay your hands on his radiance…men, to arms! As the rightful heir to the throne, I shall take father’s place after this wretch’s death!”


    Felicir merely snickered at the sight. Dozens of soldiers drew their blades, and the prince proudly stood in place. He was practically a little child waiting for his birthday gifts.


    The royalty’s thirst and excitement were all too clear on his face. Once the court mage fell, the throne would be his to take, the empire his to rule.


    “Shitheads. I don’t know why you waste your lives like this, you and your father both. Playing nations with power like this…do you not know what ‘divinity’ means? It’s a God’s fragment. You wasted your lives ruling nations when you could’ve been ruling the world itself.”


    The prince scowled at the insult. He swung his sword in the air, this time in actual anger.


    “Kill him! The one to bring that wretch’s neck will be handsomely rewarded!”


    Metallic footsteps marched against the marble floors. The soldiers rapidly advanced towards the court mage with murderous intents.


    But Felicir himself was neither disturbed, nor fearful. The mage only grinned in amusement, playfully holding out his hand; a finger lightly touched on his thumb as he prepared to snap his fingers.


    Moths to the flame. Every single one of them.


    ‘Three…two…one…’


    “Go to hell.”


    When Felicir’s fingers snapped, the advancing soldiers seemed to freeze in time as they suddenly came to a standstill.


    The prince watched them in confusion, frantically waving his sword in the air.


    “What’re you all doing?! Advance! Men, advan-“


    The prince’s voice died out. Sounds of falling swords and shields instead filled the chamber, followed by armors thudding against the floor.


    The prince fell to his knees. The light in his eyes began to dim, and his beating heart grew slower and slower.


    He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t resist. In his blurring vision, the only thing he saw was death itself, mockingly laughing at his disgrace.


    Soon, the prince’s body grew completely limp as his armor crashed unto the floor.


    Deathly silence filled the room as the court mage examined his work.


    A deluge of royalty and their proud knights, each snuffed of their life. A testament to where they belonged in comparison to the authority Felicir now held.


    “Now, how did the saying go again? ‘Look upon my works, ye mighty, and despair’…right? If only you could.”


    Felicis and Aldrid were embracing each other, trying to calm their trembling. Neither of them were relieved nor awe-stricken at the sight of their dead enemies. Only a muddled fear filled their minds, of what the man beside them had become.


    Slowly, Felicis opened her mouth.


    “Brother, is…is this…okay?”


    “Hm? My, are you looking out for me? Don’t you worry, Felicis. We’ll live – all twelve of us will live. Oh, and maybe a few dragons…I did promise the dragonlord, after all. It’s not like they’re of any threat now anyways.”


    Felicir’s ominous gaze then shifted over to Aldrid, who tightly held onto her fragment in hand. The mage briefly tipped his head, urging her to take it into her body.


    “Use the shard, Aldrid. You’ll have to learn how to use your authority of life. The reset can wait until then.”


    “Master Felicir…by reset, you mean…?”


    “Think about it. As long as we have the First’s fragments, others that know of their existence will always be after our throats. We may not age with our divinity, but we’ll have to spend our days defending ourselves from lower beings.”


    “But…the shards are hardly a secret now. Everyone knows of their existence.”


    “Exactly! Everyone knows of their existence. So, we’ll just get rid of everyone.”


    An ominous shadow crept upon Aldrid’s eyes.


    “Get rid…of everyone?”


    “Mhm. I’ll kill them, every single one. Man, demon, beast, animal…even plants and insects.”


    Aldrid’s jaw slowly dropped open as she realized what her owner was saying.


    Felicis couldn’t hide her astonished expression, either. The world seemed to darken as she imagined her brother’s words coming to pass.


    He was serious. If anyone would, he would. A planetary genocide to sever the past.


    “Once everyone’s dead, you’ll be the creator of all life, Aldrid. You’ll shape life anew – life that will walk our star.”


    Felicir spread his arms in an exaggerated gesture. A burst of laughter came forth as he spoke his vision.


    “We’ll draw the sky anew. We’ll make the land anew. We’ll create new oceans. New lives will walk our reformed star, and new laws will govern our world. The dragons will remain oblivious in their seclusion, and none will be left to tell the tale of our divinity’s origin.”


    The court mage’s heaving laughter came to an end. An ambitious voice muttered the last bits of their future.


    “Then, we’ll truly become gods…deities.”


    ? ? ?


    Every vision, realized. Every dream, achieved. From dusts of war, we built our star anew.


    In this paradise built by the twelve victors of their time, ours is the remains of an era long past.


    The Reaper. The Magician. Mother Nature.


    The Sky, The Land, The Sea. The Stars.


    The Clown. The Judge. The Maker. The Hermit.


    And…the Historian.