"Will I?" Aric responded. "What do you mean? Will I what?"

This was all said, of course, in the midst of a confusing situation Aric found himself in. Just minutes ago, Aric could have sworn he was alone in the forests of the Astral Peaks, but now he found himself talking to a burning bush.

As the light from the white flame enticed Aric closer, he couldn't help but think that this wasn't even the maddest thing he had seen since arriving in Celestia.

Once again, the bush asked in such an irresistible voice, "Will you, Aric?"

As Aric looked into the flame, the light reflecting off his glossy dark hazel eyes, he started to see visions of his past. Visions that showed him the things that had hurt him. He saw the girl he loved captivated by Cassius, Agape talking about him behind his back, and what haunted him the most—the screams of his father and mother before their unjust fate.

This sudden overload of emotions took Aric in a fiery whirlwind, emotionally and physically. Aric, unable to bear it, shouted out, "Why are you doing this to me?" As Aric yelled, slowly, the whirlwind spinning around him created a path within the storm that opened for him. Aric had no need for instruction; he felt almost as if he was being called.

Slowly, Aric left the screams of his past as he walked through. The moment Aric stepped through, everything around him became the darkest black one can imagine. Aric was not afraid, however, but rather intoxicated by the energy that reached out to him. Aric stood there for a moment before the voice called back out to him, saying, "Aric, these things I show you, they hurt you, no? Of course, why would they not! Why do you do this to me!"

"This is your past, and these people you call family, they are the cause of your pain. How many times has that peasant girl broken your heart? She has no care for you. That pitiful king. You heard his story. He told you from his own lips, he's a murderer."

"That's not true!" Aric snapped back. At the finishing of his statement, in the black void, a flashback of Agape yelling out he isn't a leader in the midst of broken wine bottles replayed over and over again. The voice called out, "You see, from his own lips, he admits he isn't a leader. These people are not your friends."

"Think about that peasant girl forgetting you for the company of who? A spy?"

"But I am nothing but a peasant either," Aric replied.

"This is where you are wrong, Aric." Now, the void shifted. In a flash, Aric was brought to another place. This time he was at a palace. It was a beautiful day, and as Aric looked over the ornate balcony he was on, he saw someone on the ground. It was him, but dressed in royal garments and surrounded by lavish ornaments that decorated a beautiful garden. He heard a servant talk to the other him about how much the people loved him.

"The king of Celestia has certainly done an incredible job here, Aric," the voice said.

"You see, you are not a peasant; you never have been. I've been watching you. I know how you have always desired to have meaning, a purpose for your life. This is it! You are a Prince, no, a king." As the voice talked, Aric became more and more enticed, mumbling phrases like "yes" and "a king."

However, in a rush, similar to the flash that brought him there, he was back at the void. "What? Why are we back here? Take me back." The voice then explained, "You can't go back. That is your future. At least, it could be. What do you mean? Well, if you continue to trust the people you call friends, your life may play out differently." Again, they were off, and this time, the voice took Aric to a dark, grim place. Grim being the perfect description as Aric recognized where he was. He was in Grimhaven, his old home. But it was different. He looked around, and the tapestry of flowers that led to Seraph's house had turned into an ugly muddy road being walked on by slaves. The people he saw were miserable, skin and bones. He ran into his home, terrified of what he saw. Yet, what he saw was not the house he left, but a different sight. In the gray light, the walls were filled with images.

Almost inscriptions or an ancient language he did not know. As he looked at the work of what must be a madman, he saw something scurry across the floor. Frightened, but curious, he walked closer to the doorway that led to a room. Carefully, he walked up, and turned the corner expecting to be attacked. Instead, what he saw scarred him much more—it was a mirror. It was him.

In the reflection, he saw a pale, scared, malnourished man. He looked at how his long brown hair had receded into thin grey strands. His dark hazel eyes had sunk into a depressed, wrinkled face. As he observed his face, a lady walked out behind him. It was Seraph. He quickly turned away as she addressed him. "What are you doing?"

In an old, shaky voice, he replied, "Nothing. What happened here, to me?" A booming cackle came out from the mouth of Seraph. "Have you begun to lose your memory as well, farmer? You amuse me, really."

"You have nothing to worry about with my presence. I am simply making sure you understand that your quota is coming up and if you don't meet it, His Imperial Majesty might just take the clothes off your back. You won't be needing them if you fail to meet the requirements anyway. I'm sure you understand. You were always a clever boy, too slow to realize that you were being led into a trap, however." Just then, the voice brought him back to the void.

"That is the course that is set for your life. Now, again I ask will you. Will you go down the path of riches, the path that you were born for, or will you follow a backstabbing woman and murdering king into despair?"

"How do you know? How do you know that will be my future? The only one who knows that is God Himself."

"Do not speak of that name in my presence. You joke with me surely. What would God do for you? He, along with everyone you love, have abandoned you. Join me. You want to be a king, no? Of course, but—"

"But what, boy? You dare test my patience!" the voice boomed out.

This yell echoed throughout the mountains, eventually reaching the ears of Agape, who was sitting pondering what he would do once this war was over. Immediately, the entire camp was distracted from the job they were doing, moving throughout the mountains as fast as they could. Luscious looked at his lord, saying, "

"And what might that have been?" Luscious replied, his tone heavy with foreboding. "Nothing good. Let's go, Luscious, bring a band of men. I have a bad feeling about this." Seraph, her normal self, was curious about the situation and even asked Agape if she might go as well. However, as the king equipped himself with armor, he refused. "There might be danger."

Soon, a small band of soldiers led by Luscious and Agape ran through the woods to find the source of the noise.

Back at Aric, the voice became more urgent, as if it knew time was running out. "Boy, this is your future, what your father meant to keep from you. Your inheritance, it is owed to you. Claim it. Claim it now!"

"I can't. I am sure you would understand, but I have no basis on which I can judge if anything you have even told me is true." As Aric refused, the voice magically created a crown from thin air. Its energy radiated from it, pulling Aric closer and closer.

Frantically, Agape ran through the trees, as if he knew what he was looking for. The others still followed behind him. They ran until Agape noticed a clearing and a burnt-up bush. There was nothing left. This concerned the king greatly as he spoke to the exhausted group still catching up. "Luscious, it's here. What, my lord? The darkness. We must leave at once. Our time of arrival in Meadowshore has just been shortened. We get there within the week."

As the group began running back to camp, Agape noticed something out of the corner of his eye. Looking closer, he wondered how he had missed it. It was a great whirlwind of white fire. He called out to the group, starting to run again. The men were reluctant until they saw what he was running towards; then, they were given a new sense of urgency.

As the whirlwind spun in a great mass, Agape, gaining ground, noticed someone inside of it. He yelled out, but there was no response. It was as if the person didn't know they were in there. One of the men called out, "It looks like a woman." "Nonsense, that is Aric!" Luscious yelled out in panic. The man was slowly walking towards a great fire, one that would surely engulf him.

In the surreal chaos of the void, Aric remained blissfully unaware of the impending danger, convinced that he was striding purposefully towards a regal destiny. The closer he drew to the ethereal crown, the more a surge of power coursed through him, intoxicating his senses with a heady mixture of anticipation and strength. In his mind, the allure of kingship overshadowed the ominous reality unfolding around him.

As Aric reached out to claim the imagined crown, the illusory grandeur shattered abruptly. The void collapsed with a violent force, and he found himself ensnared within a maelstrom of searing flames. His hand, once outstretched for glory, now bore the marks of an intense burn inflicted by the ferocious fire that encircled him. Panic gripped him as he screamed for help, the desperation in his voice echoing through the tumultuous winds of the inferno.

Outside the fiery vortex, a band of men observed the unfolding tragedy, their faces etched with concern and urgency. Aric's cries for salvation reached their ears, carrying a palpable sense of impending doom. Without a moment's hesitation, Agape, the stalwart leader, sprinted towards the encroaching flames, heedless of the attempts by Luscious to restrain him. The intensity of the situation electrified the air, and time seemed to slow as Agape lunged into the heart of the fire.

The flames surged towards Aric with voracious hunger, threatening to consume him whole. Yet, Agape reached the young man just in the nick of time, his decisive action a desperate bid to shield Aric from the fiery onslaught. The two figures collided and tumbled to the ground, a chaotic dance of survival amidst the searing blaze.

Abruptly, as if the cosmic tempest had tired of its own spectacle, the whirlwind dissipated. The transition from chaos to stillness left an eerie void in its wake, and the men surrounding the spectacle were left in stunned silence. As the smoke cleared, they cautiously approached the duo sprawled on the ground, unsure of what they would find.

Aric lay there, disoriented and shaken, the burn on his hand a painful reminder of the surreal ordeal. The intensity of the moment lingered in the air, leaving everyone on edge.

Aric's heart pounded in his chest, and his voice trembled as he addressed the silent forest, desperately seeking a response from the one person who had become a beacon in the chaos of Celestia. "I know, I know. I almost got everyone killed. Don't lecture me again, Agape." The words hung heavy in the air, but there was no reassuring reply, no comforting presence. "Agape? Don't you start ignoring me. Agape?" Aric's voice wavered, revealing the rising panic within him. As he turned toward the man who had saved him, he pleaded once more, "Agape?"

An eerie quiet settled over the entire forest, a hush that even the birds seemed to respect. The world around Aric seemed to hold its breath, and the smallest raindrops fell gently upon his hand, as if mourning the loss of a great soul. Agape was dead.

Luscious, with a heavy heart, walked over to pick up the fallen leader. Aric felt a lump in his throat, a weight on his shoulders, as he tried to find words to express the overwhelming guilt and sorrow that flooded his being. "I'm sorry," he stammered, but the words felt inadequate, hollow in the face of the immense loss. No one else could find the right words either. Their faces spoke volumes, etched with grief and disbelief, mirroring the somber quiet that enveloped them.

In the midst of the mourning, the men gathered enough small trees, creating a makeshift platform reminiscent of the Ark described in the ancient scriptures. On this solemn vessel, they carefully placed the lifeless body of their king. The burden of revealing Agape's fate to an entire camp weighed heavily on their shoulders, a task that seemed insurmountable. Aric, overwhelmed with the gravity of the situation, questioned his very existence. He should be dead, he thought, his mind a whirlwind of guilt, grief, and the haunting image of Agape sacrificing himself to save him.