"when someone dies, you cry and mourn over their death. Some people miss the dead, some wants to bring them back and someone far away from another land becomes joyful, listening to the news".
It all depends what the dead signifies.
Some people don't even cry but just feel sad.
The dead is what happens when a person becomes careless and forgets his place in world of sumaka.
It is a world filled with degenerates and tyrannicals, a world where strong can become weak and weak can become a God.
Gods overlook these lands, they stay where they are, watching this ruckus unfolding slightly, one by one, "they shall also die".
Once people heard gods, they prayed, they pried, they cried, they wept, they loved and they figured.
But gods were not what they had expected them to be.
They only looked divine, lightning around them, several weapons in their hands, a certain malice in their eyes, charismatic tone, and a blinding white light that covered their faces.
If you can look deep within yourself, you can gain a boon.
"Soul burns forever".
The light is mysterious.
A chamber opened with a light.
The chamber gets destroyed.
Beware of gods.
...
With that, I woke up in the middle of night.
"That was one hell of a dream".
Arthur was sleeping in his royal bed which was red in colour, amidst the night filled with stars and a chilling air, he was quite scared.
"What was that dream?"
"I barely remember any of it".
"Must have been a nightmare".
With that, Arthur laughed and went back to sleep.
...
I am now twenty years old. I was growing at faster pace in height and muscles.
I finally looked like a warrior but that was not what I wanted.
I wanted to be a warrior not look like one, but this was a extra benefit that would not make me victim of any more insults further, so not everything is bad about it.
I chanted regularly but nothing happened.
Two years.
Nothing happened.
Nothing at all.
I was getting little frustrated as I walked back on forth in enormous hallways of the kingdom.
Just as I was walking, chanting again and again, I saw "vinheil", he was my father's most trusted companion.
So much so that, my father trusted vinheil more than his children's and wives.
Vinheil was walking towards my father's kresper which was my father's personal chambers, where only most trusted and esteem warriors could go, like vinheil and ganes.
Ganes cuman was kingsguard and vinheil was our advisor.
...
As vinheil entered the chambers, I pressed against the wall listening to their conversation, I was quite curious.
But I couldn't listen to anything they were saying, so I continued walking and started chanting once again but suddenly, I heard voices.
Voices of two men talking, they seemed to be coming from kresper.
I was delighted that I could hear their voice from a distance but at the same time, I was quite confused as to "how" I can do this?
...
"My lord, people are starving".
"I know and I am enjoying the sight of it".
"You know this throne was given to you because the god found you worthy and made you a demi-god, in return he asked only one thing, to help the poor".
"And I am doing that".
Vinheil was struggling to make king Voramir understand the seriousness of the situation.
Voramir with his deep voice said, "the god said to help poor and I keep them here with me, they live just under me, they eat my food and they sing songs for me".
Vinheil eyed him with anger, "and yet you are the one who tortures them and encourage your son to eat them for his feasts".
"Do you know what it means to be a king, my lord?"
"Ohhhh, I am about to hear another one of your lectures, it seems like".
"I am just trying to do the right thing, my lord".
"You want to talk?"
"Yes"
"Alright then, let's talk".
Voramir was determined to prove his advisor and his friend vinheil wrong.
Voramir circled around his own statue and said,
"You speak again of the poor, vinheil? I tire of this sermon. The wretches were born to kneel; the stars themselves decreed their station. To uplift them is to defy the order of heaven".
Vineil smiled calmly and responded,
"My lord, even the stars may err, for they are but the eyes of the divine—watchful, not tyrannous. To rule is not to trample the lowly but to bear the weight of their misery as your crown".
Voramir snapped,
"Bear? I am no mule for their burdens! The realm exists to magnify me. Its grain fattens my tables; its gold adorns my hand. Would you have me abase myself before beggars, as though kingship were a penance?"
Vinheil remained calm,
"No, my lord. But kingship is not indulgence—it is endurance. A king's grandeur is not measured by the reach of his dominion, but by the mercy that tempers his will".
Voramir laughed,
"Mercy? Mercy weakens the sinews of rule. It breeds insolence among the rabble. Fear—fear is the true sceptre. Let them tremble, and they shall obey".
Vinheil let out a warm smile,
"Yet fear is a brittle throne, Your Grace. The hearts won by dread will turn as swiftly as the wind. The people may bow today, but their silence hides knives".
Voramir sighed,
"And what would you have me do? Scatter bread like a pious fool? Let them believe themselves equal to me? The lion owes no apology to the sheep it devours".
Vinheil remained calm and determined,
"But the lion that slaughters without need soon starves, Majesty. The herd sustains the pride. So too does the humble sustain the crown. To rule is to bind strength and compassion in a single hand—or else the sceptre turns to ash".
Voramir snapped once again,
"You would make me a saint when I am meant to be a storm. The world bends to power, not to pity".
Vinheil's tone was somber yet melancholic,
"Then rule as the storm, my king—but remember, even the storm serves the earth it strikes. Rain nourishes where lightning destroys. Choose which part of the tempest you shall be remembered for".
A silence fell over the bright room.
"You speak prettily, vinheil. Yet the poor will never love their king".
"Perhaps not. But love is not required, My lord—only remembrance. And they will remember you by how you wield your might: as tyrant or as guardian".
Voramir was in a deep thought and suddenly he said with a loud voice,
"Enough of this sanctimonious drivel, vinheil. You mistake your station. I am the axis upon which this realm turns. The poor, the noble, even the heavens—they revolve around me. I will not be lectured by a servant draped in borrowed wisdom".
Vinheil's expression changed under the bright room,
"A servant, yes—but one who still remembers what it means to kneel. You have forgotten, Majesty, and in forgetting, you have unmade the soul of your throne"
Voramir looked more irritated and angry as the conversation dragged on,
"I have no soul to unmake. Souls are for the weak, for those who cling to conscience when power demands blood. I was not born to heal the wretched—I was born to reign. And reign I shall, unyielding, unrepentant."
With a sarcastic smile, vinheil replied, "Then your crown is already your coffin, my king".
Voramir punched his statue and broke it in several pieces, "what did you say?"
Vinheil stood his ground,
"You heard me. You call yourself the sun, yet your light burns the fields that feed you. Your kingdom festers beneath your pride, and I will no longer stand idle as it rots".
Voramir's eyes widened in shock,
"You dare raise defiance in my hall? Against your sovereign?"
Vinheil finally snapped,
"A sovereign who has forgotten duty is but a tyrant in silk. I have counselled, I have pleaded—but no counsel reaches a heart embalmed in arrogance. Thus I must reach it with steel".
Thus a battle of conscience and crown started, igniting a great battle between two warriors, two friends and two ideologies.