Alexander put his hand forward"On your feet, little brother," he said, his voice calm, steady like always.
Arthur looked up at him, dirt on his cheek, breath heavy from the fall. For a moment, he saw the sun behind his brother's head, casting a golden halo that didn't belong.
He took his brother's hand.
That was before the lies. Before the gods. Before the war.
Back then, Arthur still believed that the world was a wonderful place.
In the blink of an eye ten years had passed.
It felt like only yesterday when the boy still reached for his brother's hand.
Arthur, now grown, stood tall...
He was deeply saddened as his father the king was about to pass very soon.The man who raised him and his brother.
Come forth… before death takes my tongue.The old King said "Both of you."
They came closer.
"The gods… watch you now," he whispered. "But they are not what they seem. One will carry the fire… the other, the flame's price."
Alexander expression after hearing changed from one of worry for his father to a look of sorrow.
At that moment the old King gave Arthur a necklace,He said "This once belonged to your mother. She wanted me to give this to you my son".
Arthur took the necklace from his father's hands. He said "I will cherish this as long as I live father"
Some weeks later the king had passed.
As Alexander was older he was thought to be more capable for the throne.
The crown had barely touched his brow before he started The Search.
No one knew what he was even looking for.
Alexander had become king… but what he sought wasn't peace or legacy. He was chasing something else. Something no throne could offer.
The nobles bowed lower. The soldiers stiffened like statues. No one dared speak.
In the courtyard, the banners of the old king were torn down. The people whispered the new king's name like a curse.
As days passed Alexander became more cold till one fateful day.
The wind whispered through the field — the same place where, years ago, a hand was offered.
Now, the two brothers stood on opposite ends. The weight of the crown had changed one, and the burden of silence had shaped the other.
Arthur's eyes burned with fury and sadness.
"Why, Alexander? Why are you doing this? Do you want the kingdom to fall into ruin?"
Alexander didn't flinch. His gaze was like ice — unreadable, unwavering.
"Tell me, Arthur... have you ever felt it?"
Arthur's brow furrowed.
"Felt what?" he snapped. "Madness? Is that what's gripped you?"
A silence lingered between them — thick, suffocating.
Alexander finally spoke.
"Power."
He took a step forward.
"Not the kind born of bloodlines or titles. I'm talking about something deeper. Something buried in every soul. The gods called it many things. But men... men know it best as Impulse — the deepest desire that refuses to die."
Arthur shook his head.
"Desire doesn't justify tyranny."
Alexander's voice lowered.
"You still see the world as it was. But it's changing, Arthur. You must change with it... or be left behind."
He turned his back.
"To the south, there is some who may be able to help. Find him. Discover your truth — your Impulse."
He looked over his shoulder, his voice filled with pain.
"Until then, you are no longer welcome in this kingdom. As of today... you are exiled."
Arthur stood in stunned silence.
The place where a hand was once offered... now became the ground where bonds were severed.