All or Nothing

Chapter 71

It was morning in Dicathen, and the sun was starting to shine into the royal palace of Elenoir, specifically the bedroom of one of the former kings. But the sun did not wake him, for he had not even fallen asleep. He was just lying there staring at the ceiling. He turned his head, wishing for the last few days to have all been just a nightmare. Alas, he was alone in bed, this was reality. Tears flowed freely from his eyes as he wept uncontrollably for the loss of his wife.

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Knock knock

"Good morning Elder Arth...oh, I'm sorry. I had no idea you were awake," An elven maid said as she entered Arthur's room, and saw him standing in front of a mirror dawning a set of black robes.

He smiled back, but the smile didn't quite reach his eyes. He then faced the mirror again as he tried to put his top robe on

"Oh, let me help you," she said as she saw him struggling..

This of course wasn't too surprising, in fact it was more surprising to the maids that he could even walk, being a three hundred and fifteen your old human and all. This actually made it hurt even more, as he outlived his wife, and today she was being layed to rest.

"There, everything looks...oh wait," the maid said as she turned and ran to a dresser drawer. She returned and handed him a handkerchief. "I think you'll need one, as we all will," she said as her eyes welled up.

Arthur placed a hand on her shoulder and smiled sadly. "Thank you."

He then formed an aetheric cane and began to walk down the hall. Despite his age he walked as dignified as a king. His back was straight and his expression stoic. Two hundred years ago the elders often compared him to Virion, not just because he led the continent through war, once as a Lance the other as the commander of the Dicathen military. However very few actually remember his former master outside of what they read in textbooks. Now only Arthur, Sylvie, and Regis remembered him clearly, and Arthur's children only vaguely due to their young age when he passed away. Despite being the strongest mage on three continents Arthur was far from his prime, though he could still go toe to toe with an Asura if the situation called for it, and make them regret challenging him.

Arthur approached a set of tall double doors leading to the dining room, both open as servants were moving carts of food in. Arthur entered to see five generations of his family sitting at the long table. Close to half were augmeters and he trained all but the fifth generation, mostly because they were still a bit too young to start more than basic physical conditioning and mana manipulation.

At the sight of him in the doorway everyone became silent and most stood up. Only Reynolds and Adam stayed seated, Reynolds because he hadn't aged as gracefully as Arthur and needed a wheelchair to get around, and Adam because he lost his right leg in the last war and not even Arthur wanted or expected him to stand for something this trivial.

Arthur looked at his family and smiled warmly. Ever since Arthur and Tess' wedding they always did their best to have family meals together. But it had been quite some time since so many members of the family had gathered around this table.

"Please sit, don't stop eating on my account," Arthur told them with a jovial smile that didn't reach his eyes.

The family looked at him sympathetically, knowing this was just a mask to make them feel a little better, and sat down. Arthur walked to the head of the table and grabbed the back of his chair, then looked beside it. There was an empty chair, Tess's chair. His mask broke and tears flowed as he collapsed to his knees.

"Father!" "Papa!"

Sylvie was the only close one who could get to him quickly, as his other children were too old to move that fast anymore. However she wasn't the only one who came to him. A tall man, an aetheric man with a set of black horns and slicked back amethyst hair was on the opposite side, knelt down to help him.