Oliver felt a deep reluctance to march toward the city walls. His body screamed to return to the north. He clenched his hands tightly and reminded himself that this time he was not returning in a cage, but this time didn't feel any better.
"Oli?" Draco called out, breaking him from his silence.
Oliver shook himself from his dark memories. "It's nothing. Let's get this over with." He wrapped a grey cloak around his shoulders and pulled the hood up to hide his stark white hair. He dug his heels into his horse's sides and rode toward that foreboding city.
However, they did not get too far when Oliver stopped the group and breathed in deeply. "Smoke and blood." He said quietly as he looked towards the sky, hoping to find a smoke plume.
Draco pointed to the southeast, where a light grey plume was billowing. "Shall we have some fun?"
Oliver nodded with a smirk pulling at his lips, and they turned their horses towards the fire in the distance. It didn't take too long to close the distance, and the smell of the smoke and blood had become thick. The sound of their horses' hooves was accompanied by the screams and cries of two parties fighting.
It was a skirmish.
Oliver cursed as he saw a procession of carriers bearing the flags of Abrorg and Osmela; however, some of their carriages were on fire. Priests were conjuring shields and trying to ward off attacks, but they had weakened under constant pressure.
A large Ravagers raid was underway. The feral-like men swooped in in waves, first with magic, followed by swords. The paladins held them back with their shields, while the Abrorg troops would jump through the line of defense and cut their enemies down. They were holding their own while Imran fought with a large Ravager; however, he still spared a glance towards the battle and called out orders.
A terrible spell ripped through the air, about to slam into Imran, but a large shield of silver light materialized in front of him, blocking the attack. Oliver's eyes snapped to the person who conjured it, and his eyes widened with surprise.
An older man was standing in pure white robes with ancient words embroidered on his hem in silver. His long auburn hair was streaked with grey and tied neatly behind him. In his hands was an ivory staff, and it amplified his power. He uttered a few hushed words, and another shield was erected, saving the lives of a few more men.
Pope Commodus, Gallio's father and ruler of Osmela. He had never joined the war, so Oliver had never had an opportunity to face him. After watching how seamless his magic was, Oliver was glad he was never his opponent.
"Cursed hells," Oliver murmured. "The Ravagers had another way to sneak south."
They had become unpredictable, deviating from his previous life. Unfortunately, the Ravagers we cautious this time, and a portion of the troops stayed back to launch a pincer attack. Oliver cursed as he aimed toward the Ravagers, who were emerging from their hiding place.
"Archers, aim for the vitals," Oliver called out. "Lancers, to the front with me. Swordsmen follow behind for a second wave."
Both the men from Wynter and Rucrea obeyed him immediately without a second thought.
The approaching Ravagers soon found they were under attack and tried to prepare. But Oliver's orders were sharp and concise, while his powerful troops worked in tandem. They soon broke through the Ravager's line, forcing them to collapse under pressure.
Oliver ordered the men to split and half help the other kingdoms. Oliver and Draco cut down the enemies on their side and then rushed to help the others. With the extra numbers, it didn't take long to clean up the rest. With the last few cuts, they finished off the Ravagers, but Imran was still fighting his battle with the Ravager.
Oliver walked around the two fighting until he was in a place where Imran could easily see him. "Uncle, I can tell you more useful information about the Ravagers than this man. You don't need to work so hard to keep him alive." Oliver called out.
Based on this Ravager's attire, he was at the same level as the one who told him about the Ravager King.
"Fuck you, Kardos bastard!" The Ravager called out.
Draco clicked his tongue as he heard this man curse at his husband. "Don't worry, Ravager. I'll send your king to join you in the afterlife."
The Ravager roared and rushed towards Draco with a snarl. However, Imran appeared behind him before he could attack and stabbed his daggers into the man's throat. The Ravager coughed up blood and then fell to the ground.
Imran sighed heavily. "I hope you weren't lying about the information."
"He wasn't highly ranked. He would have minimal information at best." Draco said as he nudged the body with his foot.
Imran rubbed his chin with disappointment. "What a waste of time." But then he looked up at Oliver with a gleam in his eye. "But at least my good nephew is here to keep me company."
Oliver shook his head helplessly. "That depends. Are you going to send any more jokes about marriage?"
Imran's mouth fell open. "Joke? I was being quite serious. When Savvi grows up—"
"Don't even think about it, old man!" Savvi came running from the other side of the carriages with Gallio in tow. "I'll die if you force me to marry him!"
Oliver was taken aback. "I don't go around killing people."
Savvi gave him an incredulous look, his eyes raking him up and down. Oliver flushed when he realized that his mudstained clothes were now covered in red. His two swords were still in his hands and dripped with blood.
"Well, I was planning on sneaking in anyway," Oliver muttered, knowing they had planned on changing to less conspicuous clothing before entering the capital.
He grabbed some Rucrean clothes from the back of his horse and then turned back to his troops. "Check the carriages and make sure there isn't any damage. We should move out in two hours to make it to the city before it gets dark."
The Wynter and Rucrean men quickly obeyed and started to check the carriages. Oliver shed his white outerwear and replaced it with the traditional garb of a Rucrean warrior. However, his hands, face, and hair were still splattered with blood; however, he didn't bother washing it out.
Instead, he quickly greeted Gallio and Savvi, who stayed behind.
"I thought you were fucking dead," Gallio said as he rushed up and hugged Oliver. "You just disappeared from the capital."
"I just went home. I had a nice time away. If I had my choice, I would still be up there." Oliver said as he patted him on the back.
He then pulled him towards Draco. "I'm not sure if you two have met. If you haven't, Gallio, this is Draco Lyrell." He then nodded toward the teenager, scolding his uncle. "And, of course, Savvi."
Draco shook Gallio's hand, his eyes softer than before. Because he had accepted that his vision was truly his memories, he started to value this friendship he had cultivated before. He had wanted to find Gallio and Savvi because he had missed their relationship. He didn't think he would be able to meet them so soon.
"Shit. I should go heal something." Gallio's eyes were always searching and finding the injured.
"Don't overexert your magic," Draco warned instinctually. The Gallio he remembered, would use all of his power to heal the injured soldiers. It had become so excessive that it was destroying his vitality. His magic had cut years off his lifespan.
Gallio was surprised because this was something his father had warned him about. He had told him that he needed to be wise when healing others.
The Pope walked towards their group, leaning on the cane with each step. He held himself with a straight back but with an unpretentious atmosphere. "He will not listen to you." He said with a kind smile. His voice was gentle and warm.
Gallio blushed and ran away to help the injured.
Draco and Oliver bowed toward the man. "Pope Apollon Commodus." They greeted him.
He waved his hand. "Such formalities are unnecessary between us. Young Oliver helped my son in a difficult situation, and Draco and I have a long history."
He looked at the two men with bright eyes and smiled warmly when he noticed the markings on the back of their hands. As Pope, he deeply understood other cultures, especially their wedding customs.
"I see I should be offering my congratulations," he said while letting go of his cane. It stood stretching out his hand. "Give me your marked hands, please."
Oliver and Draco exchanged a look, but they lay their hands in Apollon's. He closed his eyes and chanted a prayer of blessing.
Imran and Savvi had stopped arguing and stared at Apollon with surprise. "Why are you giving a wedding blessing?" Savvi asked.
Draco glared at Savvi. "Aren't you Imran's heir? Can't you figure it out on your own?"
Oliver grabbed Draco's hand to calm him. "One of the reasons why I came back to the capital was to break the news to my parents."
Imran suddenly laughed and pulled both men into a hug. "You two are a bit cheeky to elope behind the Kardoses' back."
"It just happened that way," Oliver said with a laugh
"It's just a little surprising that someone of Draco's stature was able to marry secretly," Apollon said. He was one of the few who knew of Draco's true identity as king outside of Rucrea.
"It will be announced soon," Draco said.
Imran rolled his eyes and pulled Oliver by the arm. "Congratulations, congratulations." He said with impatience. "Come and test this new strategy with me."
He pulled Oliver to a carriage and had his servants pull out a small table and chess board.
"We only have a little over an hour, so think speed over the long plays," Imran said and made his first move.
Oliver could only shake his head and accompany Imran in a chess game.
Each move was like a sword strike, fast and sharp. Those who watched would feel a shudder ripple through them whenever they heard a clack of the chess piece hitting the board.
The game continued until Ian came up and bowed slightly to Draco. "Sir, the two hours have passed, and we have readied the undamaged carriages."
Draco nodded. No one had dared to interrupt the two men playing chess at this time. The clash of auras had silenced the camp, and they both had looks of deep concentration. They were fierce competitors at this time.
However, Draco wasn't just anybody. He casually walked into the tense domain and bent at the waist, so his lips were near Oliver's ear.
"Husband," Draco whispered.
Oliver's aura retreated almost immediately, and his sharp eyes softened. He had a chess piece between his fingers, but his hand relaxed and curled around it. He tore his eyes from the game, and a smile reached his lips.
The game was broken by a single whisper.
"Is it time?" Oliver's voice was soft, the complete opposite of his aura moments before.
Draco nodded. "Do you need much more time to beat him?"
Imran's jaw dropped. "What in the hells?"
"No," Oliver said lightly, placing the piece on the chessboard. "I only needed this move."
Imran froze as he studied the board. He had never expected to lose so quickly.
Oliver stood up and straightened out his clothes. He looked over his men and confirmed that they all had changed into Rucrean clothing. They all decided to sneak into the capital with Oliver to avoid alerting Piers of their arrival.
They took off together, with Oliver, Draco, Savvi, and Gallio at the head of the procession. When they reached the gates, Gallio and Savvi stopped their horses, and their gaze turned sorrowful.
Oliver looked back. "Are you two okay?"
Gallio and Savvi exchanged a knowing look before Gallio spoke. "We're fine. Just... we both had a dream a while ago. It wasn't something we were able to shrug off."
Draco tensed. "Dream?"
Savvi nodded. "We both saw this city destroyed... by a dragon."
Oliver snapped his head over to Draco. He didn't know about any of the events that happened after he took his last breath. However, if Savvi and Gallio shared this dream, it could be a memory of their lives before the Anima Wish reversed time.
He recalled that Draco told him he gave into the monster when he died, but he never pressed for information about what that meant. But if this dream was true, then it means that Draco destroyed the capital after losing him.
Was this something Draco remembers now? How terrible would the memory be of slaughtering a large city?
Draco seemed to be able to read his expression and reached out to hold his hand.
"Wait. What were you doing at the capital?" Oliver suddenly asked. He didn't know what they would be there after he was imprisoned.
Gallio shrugged. "I think we were leading armies there. But it was just a dream, so we shouldn't worry about it. Besides, where would we find a dragon to destroy a city?"
The two started to head towards the city again, but Draco pulled Oliver to the side of the procession.
"Draco—"
Draco reached out and took his hand, bringing the branded markings to his lips. "You said it yourself in our last peace talks before they took you away from the battlefield... The only way the war would end was if we conquered Bierze or if Piers surrendered. We chose to conquer because it was the only way to save you."
Draco gripped Oliver's hand tightly, and he closed his eyes to conceal his pain. "You should have seen the army we gathered. All the kingdoms united: Rucrean remnants, Arborg's hunters, Osmela's paladins, and the loyal soldiers of Bierze."
Oliver felt that his lungs had seized. "Even after everything, you didn't give up on me?"
Oliver felt his eyes pool with tears. Everyone still hoped to save him, and their desire was enough to unite the kingdoms' armies. Yet when Draco risked his life to sneak into the tower to liberate him, he only found a fraction of the man Oliver once was. Oliver was merely a defeated spirit at that time, hovering on the edge of death. Oliver had no desire to be rescued. He had given up.
After thirty years of struggling, the only person who stopped fighting was himself.
"We were a few days too late." Draco's voice shook.
"I'm sorry," Oliver said quietly. He shouldn't have stopped fighting. He shouldn't have let Piers defeat him.
Draco released a long exhale. "We got a second chance. That is all that matters now."
Oliver reached up and cradled Draco's face with his hands. "I will never give up like that again. Even if they take my arms and legs, I will still fight."
Draco smiled and rested his forehead on Olivers. "And I will never make you wait so long again."
"Lovebirds! Hurry the fuck up!" Gallio shouted, breaking the two men from their moment. They broke apart and urged their horses to the front of the line.
When they finally entered the capital gates, Oliver held back a grimace. The citizens lined the sides of the streets and cheered for the procession, but his mind lingered on the memory of the jeers and hostile eyes from his last life.
Now that he was back, all he wanted was to leave.