@briarozee per your request this is lowk trash I’m ngl I don’t really know how to end it
Imagine if Zaros won the trials, gets the throne, and with it, everything he wished for. Naturally, the Earis, anguished with their loss, practically banishes themselves, disappearing from Serulla’s public eye, hiding away in the countryside.
So now, they live a few miles away from a small town at the edge of the country, out in the forest. Where only a few people in the town know who they are. As far away from him the castle as they could possibly be.
Amongst their other activities, they still train, swinging about their sword, daggers, staff, and even occasionally practicing their bow. Just in case, right?
As time goes on, they begin to hear whispers of the new eminence’s affairs, there’s a new woman, and he’s proposed. It’s all over the papers. It’s the talk of the town, it would seem, as every week they seem to hear a new piece about it.
They pick a paper up one Sunday, regretting it almost immediately as they look at his face plastered on the front. Smiling down at a woman they’d never seen before as if she hung the sun, moon, and everything in between.
A year and a half into their new, quieter life, they get a letter.
To Eminence Zaros’ royal wedding.
They attend, curiosity getting the better of them (because of course it would, he knew that. That’s why he sent it.), practically clinging to the shadows of the reception.
And they almost get away with this. They’ve changed over that year and a half, their hair longer and far less kept up, their skin tanned from days in the sun, that sharpness in their eyes far less prominent. They go unrecognized without their infamously large ego to speak for them.
And yet, he recognizes them anyway. Halfway through his speech about his kingdom and his new queen, about how she’s the greatest thing he’s ever known. How she strives for knowledge just as he does. No matter how stubborn he might find her, he loves her all the same. Or something like that. Sound familiar?
His eyes meet theirs and his mask dips for a moment, just a moment, his smile falling for just a moment before he rambles on about love, honor, and pride. Now anxious to finish speaking. He does, and as the party resumes, he finds them, like a moth to a flame, he finds them.
It’s just like how it used to be, in a way. Hatred, loathing, despair, brimming behind their eyes, stirring deep in their chest.
His green eyes are sharp as ever, boring into theirs as they stare at each other, neither party able to find the words. After a few moments, the Earis steps back, nodding slightly, and with a mumbled “my eminence” they disappear from view.
Their sword still sits in the corner of their cottage, collecting dust and rusting slowly, a fight long since surrendered.
