Five days passed in the blink of an eye. The plague on the Ashen Coast was finally under control, but the aftermath was different in every city.
Reedcrest, where the outbreak had first begun, had suffered the least. Its people had been properly resettled and cared for.
Harbortown’s proximity to Reedcrest and Grace’s timely rescue efforts had made it possible to eliminate the mutated plague, albeit at significant cost.
Thornwick and Sommertown had eradicated the plague, but the price they paid was catastrophic. Thousands of civilians had been burned alive and slaughtered, and their bodies were piled high in the streets.
Although Matthias and Nathaniel tried their best to cover it up, claiming it was to prevent the spread of the plague, word had leaked out anyway. Soon, heated debates erupted throughout the government and the public.
Some condemned them for cruelty, while others believed that desperate times called for desperate measures and saw nothing wrong with their actions.
Once the crisis ended, Grace returned to Oakvale with her troops. Soon after, she sent a sealed letter to Valon, detailing everything Tristan, Matthias, and Nathaniel had done.
Inside the palace of Aylka, the rich scent of sandalwood mixed with strong medicine hung thickly in the air of the royal study, forming a dense, almost tangible haze.
Valon, draped in his royal robe, reclined on a soft chaise draped with white fox fur. His slender wrist rested on a gilded pillow, and his fingertips were tinged with a faint bluish hue.
He was in the middle of a coughing fit when Dorian Pemberton entered carrying a letter with a broken wax seal. Blood seeped through the silk handkerchief in Valon’s hand, as red as the exotic flowers gifted by the Ashen Coast years ago.
“Read it.”
Valon’s voice was rough and gravelly.
Every word he spoke sent sharp pains through his chest. The moment Dorian read “8,000 civilians reduced to ash,” Valon suddenly shot upright. His fingers dug into the carved edge of the chaise.
The letter slipped from Dorian’s trembling hands. As it lay creased on the floor, it seemed to hold the reflection of the Ashen Coast’s flames.
“Those bastards!” Valon growled. Blood surged up his throat and splattered across his robe.
“Your Majesty!” Dorian dropped to his knees, pressing down on Valon’s trembling shoulders.
His voice cracked with urgency as he shouted, “Call the royal doctor now!”
By the time the royal doctor rushed in carrying a medical bag, Valon had already slipped into semi-consciousness.
They quickly inserted silver needles into the pressure points at the crown of Valon’s head and lower chest. His eyes finally fluttered open, though they remained unfocused.
After checking his pulse, the royal doctor, Silvanus Greymont, pulled Dorian into a corner of the room and spoke in a low voice.
“His Majesty’s body is failing, and his pulse is weak. I’m afraid…”
“How much time does he have left?” Dorian asked. His grip tightened on Silvanus’ sleeve until his knuckles turned white.
Silvanus swallowed hard, fidgeting with the lock on his medicine chest.
“At least a month, but not more than three. 11
Just then, the study’s antique clock chimed softly. Valon had regained consciousness and was staring at the ornate chandelier overhead.
“Silvanus,” he said slowly. “I know exactly how sick I am. But Dragonmarsh cannot survive without a ruler. Whatever solution you can think of, no matter how outlandish it sounds, I’m willing to try it.”
Silvanus dropped to his knees and bowed his head.
“Your Majesty, I urge you to keep your composure. I… I once read in ancient texts about Elysium Isle in the Eastern Sea, which supposedly had an elixir of immortality.
“Legend says King Aremis once sent an expedition there with his finest cavalry. He never achieved eternal life, but reportedly lived for 300 years.”
“Elysium Isle?”
Hope flickered briefly in Valon’s eyes before fading.
“The ocean crossing is 10,000 miles, filled with sea monsters and deadly storms. Who could possibly make such a journey for me?
Dorian suddenly chimed in, “The three princes are in their prime, and Princess Grace is both brilliant and brave. Perhaps…
“Them?” Valon laughed bitterly, which dissolved into another coughing fit. He went on, “Matthias is reckless, Nathaniel is ruthless, and Tristan is a coward. Though Grace is capable, she’s just a woman-”
Before he could finish, another violent coughing fit seized him. Dorian quickly stepped forward, patting his back to help him breathe.
When Valon finally caught his breath, he sighed wearily.
“Never mind. No matter what, we have to try. This journey to Elysium Isle will be their final test. Send the decree immediately. Matthias, Nathaniel, and Tristan are to prepare ships and set sail for the elixir.
Whoever brings it back will be named heir to the throne.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Dorian responded and turned to leave, but Valon stopped him.
“Hold on… Inform Grace as well. I don’t trust those three incompetents to handle this mission.”
“I understand.” Dorian’s heart raced, though he kept his expression neutral. Whoever retrieved the elixir would become the next ruler. According to Valon’s decree, this wasn’t just a competition between the three princes anymore since Grace would be in the running too.
For all the political factions, this was nothing short of earth-shattering news. It wouldn’t be long before Oakvale was torn apart by the storm that was coming.
