Standing in front of the Bull King again was a surreal experience. Despite having come back to Aeterna multiple times during the past century and a half, it had still been a long time since he’d last visited the Kingdom, his visits back mostly remaining on Kataigida or making the occasional return journey to the Northern Vales. He’d consciously avoided the Bull Kingdom, not wanting to impose or overshadow their King, given House Raime’s ties to the Kingdom.
Now, he wondered if that had been the wisest course of action. On the plains beside the Bull’s Horns, almost the entire greeting party had risen as Leon and his people emerged from the swift and luxurious transport ark that had borne them this far. The only exception was Julius, who remained in his seat, looking so old and frail that Leon worried the slightest breeze might’ve knocked him back into his seat if he’d tried to rise.
Thankfully, given the last-minute nature of his visit, the greeting party was fairly small, amounting to only several thousand local soldiers, the Royal Family, and their Paladins, Roland being the only one that Leon recognized. As a result, Leon felt few compunctions about approaching the Bull King, his concern carving shallow canyons in his face despite his attempts to keep stoic.
He halted before Julius, a moment of silence passing between them. His gaze was heavy, scrutinizing, whereas Julius’ was weary and light, his eyes seemingly focused on something behind him rather than on Leon himself.
“Be careful,” Julius said, his voice coming seemingly with great effort. “You’re getting fat.”
Leon blinked, having not expected that statement at all. Several of those with him, including Cassandra, laughed, but not him. Instead, he glanced down at his midsection, which was just as toned and muscular as it had essentially always been. But a slight grin on the Bull King’s face was all the confirmation he needed about whether or not to take the statement seriously.
“I wear it well,” he replied, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Besides, indolence is a flattering look on me.”
Julius laughed, but after only a few good guffaws, he lost himself to a serious coughing fit. Leon was concerned, but given that August and the rest of the Royal Family weren’t rushing to his side and spared him only a few worried looks, he thought that it might not be that serious—or at least, it wasn’t a surprise, though that prospect in and of itself was not encouraging…
“Your sense of humor never ceases to amaze me, Kyros,” he said, grinning widely even as Leon’s heart skipped a beat.
“What?” he said, his concerns magnifying greatly.
Leaning over, August whispered to his father in a manner that made Leon think he wasn’t supposed to overhear them, but overhear them he did.
“Father, that’s Leon Raime, Kyros’ grandson. You remember him, don’t you?”
Julius hardly moved, but said, “Hm? Yes, of course, my son. Leon, Leon! Come on over! How have you been?”
“I’ve been well,” Leon said a little warily as he approached the Bull King with his family beside him, including his mother. Julius, however, didn’t have eyes for them, and kept his attention fixed solely on Leon.
“Good, good,” Julius said, his voice growing a little more strained. “I haven’t received much news from Teira recently; tell me, why has Kyros not been writing as frequently these days?”
With a growing frown, Leon regarded the King for several long seconds before turning his gaze to August.
“Let us head inside,” August said with an awkward look. “We shouldn’t discuss business so soon after our old friends have arrived.
“Hm? Yes, yes, we’ll speak in a moment, Kyros,” Julius said, his attention wavering from Leon, his head turning as if someone unseen were whispering into his ear.
Wordlessly, Leon watched as attendants hurried to pick up the King’s chair with the King still in it and carried it to a covered litter. Leon found it particularly of note how quickly they were getting the King out of sight.
“Come, old friend,” August said, drawing his attention as the King’s litter was taken away, “let us speak in a place of greater comfort. These plains are… they’re not the best place for serious conversations.”
Leon nodded, his eyes sharp as Iron Pride, his mouth set into a hard line. He remained silent as he fell in as August and the rest of the Bull Kingdom’s Royal Family led them into the Bull Horns. Other reunions were had as they walked, though none held them—he noted that Lucianus exchanged a few warm words with his father Roland, while Elise and Valeria chattered animatedly with Cristina and Asiya. Though they acted with poise and didn’t make a big deal out of the King’s display, Leon could see in their body language their concern for Julius and how his behavior might affect their friends.
Marcus, Gaius, and Alcander all greeted several others in the Bull Kingdom’s party, though Leon didn’t recognize any with whom they broke words. Nieces, nephews, and cousins, based on what he overheard. They were a little looser with their tongues than August, and what Leon heard on the way to the southern Horn left him mightily concerned…
---
“Is there something wrong with your father?” Leon asked almost as soon as the door closed behind them.
He was alone with August, the two having decided on meeting without encumbrances. Likewise, Leon knew that his wives were meeting with Cristina, Asiya, and Aelia, August’s daughter. His mother had broken off from the group to explore the city, which August allowed—though he didn’t have much choice in the matter as Leon knew that Serana wouldn’t have treated any refusal on his part seriously.
“You could’ve waited at least long enough for the sound of the door’s closing to stop echoing around the room before jumping straight into this,” August said in a transparent attempt to deflect. “Always right to business with you, isn’t it?”
“When it concerns something like that, yes. What was that?”
August sighed and began pacing through the room like a caged tiger. He crossed his arms over his chest, but Leon could still sense his fingers clenching and unclenching with every step. Nearly a minute passed before he finally answered.
“Our healers have said it’s some kind of degenerative disease. His mind is attacking itself. They can heal the damage, but… it doesn’t fix the problem. And what is forgotten can be lost forever.”
“I’ll have my healers take a look, see if they can find the issue.”
“Your generosity is appreciated, Leon, but we know the cause: it’s age. Age, and lingering damage from the training accident in our youth that left him comatose for more than a decade. As I did back then, I paid a healer to come from the Sacred Golden Empire and take a look at him. He said that my father’s connection to his soul realm has ‘frayed’. I don’t quite know what that means myself, but our own healers have described it to me like this: due to the damage the connection between his physical and magic body sustained, his magic body has trouble recognizing his physical brain for what it is, and ‘attacks’ it. We do what we can, but… my father is still… you’ve just seen him. We lose more of him every day.”
“When did this start?” Leon asked. “Cristina was just in Artorion a few years ago…”
“This became apparent to us a little over two years ago,” August answered, his voice trembling slightly as if simply admitting this aloud was a herculean feat. Leon could understand that, at least, as voicing it aloud made it real, preventing one from ignoring or downplaying the problem further.
Continuing, August explained, “We didn’t… what we couldn’t know is that this has been going on for a while. My father told us that his mind had been cloudy for years before that. He will continue to… to degrade. We can keep him alive for a while, but at this point… my father has one year, perhaps two. And then our Ancestors will welcome him into their arms.”
August paused in his pacing, and Leon walked over and laid a hand on his shoulder. He said nothing, but August closed his eyes for a long moment before opening them and nodding. Leon removed his hand and asked, “Are you ready for that?”
“… As much as a man can be.”
Frowning, Leon sighed and stared out of the nearest window, though he didn’t register a single thing he could see.
“This… is a surprise. I would have thought that the ambrosia that I sent back here with Cristina would have helped with something like this. Has that been ineffective?”
August grinned sadly, his seventh-tier aura churning slightly as if embarrassed. “You have been generous with your blessings, Leon, as has Cristina. But my father always refused her offers to share. He always claimed that he was old enough. I… I believe I’m starting to see what he meant.”
Leon scrutinized him closely, the man’s wrinkles seeming to deepen into trench-like furrows and his silver hair almost thinning before his eyes. August wasn’t that much older than he was, and he should’ve had more years ahead of him, but he looked like he’d already reached old age. Trajan was both older at the time of his death than August was now, and he looked younger, to boot—and he was only sixth-tier.
“Most of my friends have died,” August said frankly. “There are only a few left that I care for. My wife is with her Ancestors. My son-in-law was killed in a training accident. My daughter and grandson are it. They are the future of House Taurus, and like my father, I have passed on Cristina’s offer to share her ambrosia with me. I don’t expect to reach my father’s age, not when I’m already this gray at this age. I don’t expect to reach the eighth-tier. In fact, I don’t want to. My daughter can use that ambrosia better than I can, as can Trajan.”
Leon blinked in confusion until it clicked in his head: August was referring to his grandson, who had been named after Trajan, not to his uncle.
“I plan on making my reign short,” August admitted. “A couple of decades, perhaps half a century. Then I’ll abdicate to Aelia. She’s been the perfect daughter, and I know that she’ll reach the eighth-tier soon. The Bull Kingdom will be safe in her hands, and in Trajan’s after her.”
Leon remained quiet, his heart sinking with every word. Julius’ imminent death was one thing—he was old enough that hearing the call of his Ancestors wasn’t surprising—but August should’ve had many years left, as many as two or three hundred if he were lucky.
Luck, however, didn’t seem to favor him.
‘At least he recognizes that,’ Leon thought, though the thought brought him no comfort. So many people that he’d known had already died that he’d been happy to find a good number in the Bull Kingdom still around. And now he was going to lose a few more. Soon, none would be left, and when that was the case… what would bring him back to Aeterna? His father’s grave, to be sure, but beyond that, he’d eventually have nothing but that part of his Kingdom that remained on Kataigida, and even they might leave someday once more planes were brought into his Kingdom.
The sinking feeling grew worse the more he thought about it.
“Are you content with that?” Leon asked, his tone leading.
August smiled almost patronizingly. “Yes, I am. I don’t want to live forever. My time will come, and then I’ll be gone. Between that and sticking around for thousands upon thousands of years… I’d rather feast with my Ancestors than stay past my time.”
“Would your answer change if you were offered a way out of it?”
Without missing a beat, August definitively answered, “No.”
Leon frowned slightly, but he accepted the answer. He let the silence continue for a few seconds, but just as it started getting awkward, he asked, “What happened to Minerva? How did she go?”
“She passed some decades ago,” August stated, elaborating on what Leon truly wanted to know. “She’d retired a few decades before that. She never had children, so her estate was inherited by a distant relation of some sort. Some great-nephew, as I recall. Her end was peaceful, though. And painless. She went in her sleep.”
Leon’s eyes traced the ripples in the marble floor as he couldn’t bear to look at August at the moment. He could feel the pressure building just behind his face as his eyes burned, but the urge to cry passed quickly, and after blinking a few times, he was completely back to normal.
“She is with Trajan, now. Hopefully, they have less of a mind for duty in the land of the dead than they had in the living.”
August smirked. “Duty is a hard thing to release for people like them. But… I’m sure they’re happy with each other.”
Leon nodded, and once again, he allowed a few seconds to pass. “So… your grandson is named Trajan?”
The smirk on August’s face widened into a big, toothy grin. “My daughter wanted her son to have a strong name. My father suggested his brother’s name, and my son-in-law loved the idea. Given he was only a knight and never a higher noble, I’m not surprised he was so eager to please my father. No matter—I’m happy with how things turned out.”
“Trajan would be proud, too, even if he didn’t outwardly show it. He wasn’t one for grand displays of his power and prestige.”
August nodded in agreement. “He’ll make a fine King one day. And Aelia will be a great Queen before him.”
Leon cocked his head, a quiet question coming to him. “Out of curiosity… where are your siblings?”
August’s face fell, and it took more seconds for him to answer. When he did find his voice, he could only intone a single word, and it sent chills racing down Leon’s spine.
“Dead.”
Such a tone of finality ensured no further questions were answered, and after a few more minutes of silence, Leon took his leave. He’d envisioned this trip back to the Bull Kingdom differently; less filled with death and more upbeat. He didn’t labor under the delusion that everyone would have still been around, but so many being lost was… unpleasant.
In the end, he left August with a heavy heart. And given what lay ahead, he doubted that weight would lessen anytime soon.
---
“I’d just kill him myself,” Serana boldly said as she stared out into the Gulf. She was leaning on her hands flung behind her, her legs dangling off the wall that she and Leon were on. “He’s too far gone. Better to give him a quick and painless end than to prolong it. That is cruel.”
“They know their father better than we do. I’m sure he doesn’t want to die, and he certainly wouldn’t want his own children to entertain the thought of ending his life, no matter how fucked things got.
“This ‘King’ of theirs is weak, both in mind and body—in that, he’s changed from when I last saw him. Back when Artorias served him, he was far more energetic and dynamic, but now… He didn’t even notice me, let alone recognize me, even though I stood right next to you! What if he tried to summon his power? He’d only severely harm himself and possibly those around him. No, it would be better for him to find a peaceful way across the Aesii.”
“I’m surprised to hear a dragon speak like that.” Leon carefully regarded his mother, not wanting to get too antagonistic but also not wanting the topic to die just yet. “Isn’t kinship all the rage amongst the Great Dragon Clans?”
“It would be the kin’s responsibility to end your suffering,” Serana said definitively. “I’ll tell you now that if I were to find myself in such a mentally compromised position and you had no way to heal me, then I would prefer the knife than be made to wander aimlessly, not knowing who I am or who my kin are.”
“If one is killed, then that’s it, isn’t it? There’s no coming back—except in rare circumstances, as I was told. Those exceptions aside, death is permanent. Life… life is more chaotic and bursting with possibilities. If you’re killed, then you’re giving up entirely, even though there might be other ways to cure whatever ails you. Despite what you just said, I would never end you before I was certain that there could be no other way.”
Serana scoffed. “I’ll have to speak with those with steadier hands, then.” She then took Leon’s head as she sat up. “But… I thank you, my boy. I wouldn’t want you to give up on me or anyone else in our family."
Leon smiled, acknowledging her words, but he said no more. He stared across the water of the Gulf to distant shores, shores he’d once flown over in the shape of a Thunderbird to rescue Asiya after the woman had been kidnapped. It wasn’t those events that filled his mind, though; instead, he wondered if he would prefer death to forgetting everything. Certainly, death would be preferable, but on the other hand, he would never have achieved Apotheosis and reached the eleventh-tier if he hadn’t wanted immortality on some level…
He decided not to answer that particular unspoken question just yet. Instead, he silently vowed to make the most of the time he had, for even as an ageless immortal, death would come for him in time, too…
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