"Felling a Serpent"

And a cannon was fired.
Distinct, and distant. It's sudden boom echoing off of the peaks of the Magna Glacies that surrounded the palace. Yet a war had not been waged, nor a signal of surrender. Any half-experienced soldier could know why the lonely sounding weapon had been set off, and it would not be it's last time to be set alight. The large door of the royal chambers slowly creaked, only to create a silent pause, as it's locked slowly clicked back into place with a steady hand. Akadios stood at the now-closed entrance of the large bedroom, its surroundings lit by so few candles, one single window open to let the gentle air inside. Not a word was spoken from her as she stood still, like that of a stone. Her half-lidded eyes scanned the room, until they rested upon a stationary, hunched figure at the corner of the wide bed. Her brow furrowed, as she let out a small breath, taking careful steps over to the bed which the distinctive figure sat upon.

Emperor Varis, as reverent and as stoic as the soldiers that served him could describe, was found bent over and still, facing a blank wall, a small coffee table dragged across the room next to his secluded body, his hair cascading down his face as he silently rested. Akadios placed herself a small distance away from him, studying his disposition.
He was broken, this she knew well. She had felt the same emotion so many times, that she could feel his own pain for him. She could barely examine his face through the strands of his pale hair, the sleeves of his ceremonial uniform rolled just under his forearms, not as neatly as she would expect. 

She eyed the small table next to him, dwarfed by his size. Its top lined with bottles and small glasses, the ice melted down to a clear water, which only made her face strain even more. She stared out the empty window, watching the clouds of the day slowly cross over the sky. It was calming, yet did nothing to ease her emotions, much less his own. She didn't want to face him again. To see the man she served for nearly 20 years be as defeated as a newly recruited private. It hurt her to even imagine it, despite the display she stood right next to. The lump in her throat attempted to stop her from breaking the silence. 

"My lord..." 

Her silent, saddened voice cut the air of the lonely room, yet she dared not to peer over to the emperor, for fear of drawing his ire. He didn't respond.
She swallowed, taking a deep inhale, followed by a shaky exhale. Tears dotted the corners of her eyes, yet she dare not weep for another countless time that day. 

"He...he was a good man-"

"Dont." 

His voice rumbled off the walls, low, and near inaudible in his speech. She nearly jumped at his reply.
"Don't repeat what I've been hearing all day..." he spoke, bringing a shaky hand up to his face to sip the last of the amber liquid from his whiskey glass, setting it on the table next to him in a huff. 

Her eyes darted towards him, regrettably so, as she saw his face for the first time since the service. What was constantly an unchanging, stern expression was turned to that of anguish and pain, his brows upturned, his lowered eyes staring at the carpet just under him. The eyes she was terrified to stare into, she saw as that of dulled gold, losing their luster just as much as her own. 

A second cannon blast fired off in the distance, and he shut his eyes. 

She hesitated to speak again, yet she felt compelled to do so. The weight of their loss nearly crushed her own heart. She wanted to take that blame, more than anything. 

"Gods-" She spoke with a sigh, bringing her hand to her face.
"It's my fault."
Varis's head moved quickly to examine her, his face became far more intense as he heard her words, watching as her expression became more saddened as she thought upon her own words.
"It's all my fault..."
"Akadios-"
"I-it..."
Her voice became broken and shaky, as she brought hands up to her face, covering her eyes as she wept, her sharp breaths and sniffs filled the room. Varis quickly rose from his seat, walking over to her and placing a firm hand on her shoulder.
"I-I should've protected him, I..."
"Akadios, please-"
"It's my fault he's dead! It's all my fault! He's gone forever and he won't come back! I killed him-"
"Akadios!" 

His raised, angered voice was enough to stop her, her hands removed from her face to reveal the tear-ridden cheeks of her visage, hurt and anguished. He took his hand from her shoulders, turning his body away from her as he exhaled deeply.

"That's enough..." 

She tried to stifle her tears and her sniffles, staring down at the floor to hide her face from him in shame. He turned his body to the window, taking a few steps forward as he stared blankly into the open space. She brought a hand to her face to wipe away at her cheeks, bringing a closed fist to her mouth as she felt her guilt overwhelm her.
"I'm sorry..." she hesitantly replied, placing her hands behind her back as she remained where was, a small sniffle escaping her. 

Varis returned to his dented seat on the bed, evident of the amount of time he had wallowed there for the day. He hadn't moved since she opened the door to his room. Quiet and dismal and as blank as ever. A small huff of air floated off his breath, as he sank into himself once more, listening to nothing save for the wind on his curtains. Akadios hesitated before speaking again, but once more rose her voice.

"Have you been sitting here all this time, My Lord...?" She asked nervously, her eyes surveying his solemn disposition. He was quiet, before he lifted his upper body to peer down her gaze.
"There is naught else for me to do, Akadios." She thought upon his response. It was true, there was nothing else. The service had ended, and the final goodbyes had been sent. Naught else was prepared save for generous regards and solemn music. And the cannons. 

A third and final firing, one that shut his eyes in regret and dismissal. A pained expression that she caught acutely. 

"I shall leave you to mourn, My Lord." She spoke with a small bow, advancing to the door, before his voice stopped her in her tracks.
"I do not mourn, Akadios. I accept."
"Accept...?"
She turned her body back to him, taking a few steps to where she once was, arms folded neatly in front of her. "I... I am not certain I understand, My Lord."

Varis let out a scoff, before standing up from his seat once more, his towering frame walking past her in a slow amble, stopping just in front of the open window. It was silent once more, a strange wave of calm flushed the room as she stared at him, his face unchanging, his hair billowing softly in the slow winds from the mountain ranges. He moved not an inch, and the reverb of his voice became grim and sorrowful in its tone.
"...When I was a boy. Nary five summers, I watched my father be laid to rest." 

Akadios's face perked up as he spoke, listening to him with the utmost attention. She had little knowledge of Varis' father, the previous crown prince who died from an illness at an age even younger than her. She knew just as well the way his son was raised by his own father, and all the cruelty that came with it. 

"At that funeral, I watched his casket lower. I cried and I sobbed into the clothes I was forced to wear until they stained. Emperor Solus stood in front of me and told me that if I wept for every dead man of the empire, I would drown." Akadios's brows furrowed at the late emperor's words. Solus was always a man of contempt. Knowing his truths to be absolute. She revered him despite this, yet it always stung her. 

"I cannot waste my life mourning every soldier who dies for the cause. Not even my dearest friend..." 

Akadios let his words weigh heavy on her mind. To never mourn for decades? In an empire like this? She could never see herself doing it. It reminded her so clearly of the first person she killed, and how she did not recover for months. Even now, she continued to weep even after the funeral service. She blamed herself again and again for his death, but Varis? He sat, silent and alone ever since it ended.
"You deserve to mourn, My Lord..." she spoke softly, looking aimlessly out the window he peered through. She heard a deep sigh escape him, his body lifting and lowering with the weight of his exasperated sigh. 

"I am not sure I even know how, Akadios..." 

His words seemed cracked, nearly broken in his lowered speech, a tone she caught in an instant. His demeanor had changed, and he had never even noticed. Her eyes darted around the room, recalling how she wept and tried to reminisce on better days, if there were any better days to remember. Akadios peered her head upwards to stare at his sullen features, as his golden eyes peered towards her from the side, examining her lost face. A face full of despair, only clinging to what little energy she had left to her from the day. 

"You cry, My Lord." 

Varis' eyes widened slightly at her suggestion. He hadn't cried all day, he hadn't for decades. Not since his father, when he was but a child. Solus taught him much. To stand up straight, to become an example for his family line, to never weep for the fallen... He had never gone against those lessons, not once.

He took his eyes off of her, staring back out the window. She watched as his face stayed stoic, trying to remain that way, but she saw it change. A slight movement of his brow, a twitch on his lips. She saw him change, yet only little by little. The features of his face curving ever so carefully. 

"My Lord?" She asked gently, questioning his change.

He let out a few small huffs, his face straining as he slowly lowered to the ground, kneeling on the carpet as his hand grabbed onto the windowsill, steadying his body as his head buried into the tops of his knees. 

She watched him weep. Silently, yet it was apparent. His short breaths and shaky demeanor struck her heart like a pain she had never known. She quickly rushed to his side, kneeling next to his crumbling frame, hesitant hands placed on his shoulders. 

He hadn't spoken, hadn't said a word since he buckled to his knees. She didn't need him to. All she wanted was to comfort him, even if she wasn't sure how. 

She stayed with him for as long as the sun needed to set that night, for without her, he would've surely drowned.