Everyone was shocked to see Lyssian arrive, especially at the exact moment Lorian was going to accept the Ruby Crown. Lyssian looked around with a look of great surprise, as if he couldn't fathom why his arrival had shocked everyone in the room.
"Why? Why are you looking at me as if you've seen a ghost?" there was clear confusion in his voice. "Don't you remember me? I am Lyssian. Lyssian Throne!"
An awkward, heavy silence fell over the hall. The Council members glanced at one another, in confusion and unease.
"Well," Gravil finally spoke in his weary voice which was laced with a suppressed tone of annoyance, "We were in the midst of requesting the Prince to take the Obsidian Throne, which was left empty by Lord Elmsworth- may his soul bask in the eternal glory of Sol."
"Oh, I am extremely sorry," Lyssian apologized quickly, sounding genuinely mortified, "I was wondering why the guards were so reluctant to let me enter. Now I know why they tried to stop me!" He looked around the room, and noticed eyes that were burning with annoyance, mistrust, and cold anger.
He took a deep breath. A faint, sad smile played on his lips. Then, in a move that stunned everyone in the room, he dropped to one knee. He bowed his head low and raised his hands above him, as if he was offering up an invisible crown.
"Oh, wise Prince of the Great House of Throne," Lyssian spoke, his voice ringing through the chamber, "I, Lyssian Throne, your humble aide, beg of you- Please, accept the Ruby Crown. For the sake of us all, for our safety and our stability, take your rightful place!"
The tension in the room shattered with this unexpected stunt of Lyssian. Many had suspected Lyssian had come to challenge the succession and claim Veridia for himself, but this sudden act of fealty was beyond anyone's imagination. A collective sigh of relief swept through the hall like a gentle soothing breeze. The Council, which was momentarily stupefied, found their voices again. Realizing their duty, they joined Lyssian in kneeling, and their voices united in the final plea.
"For the survival of the walls, for the blood of the people, oh Great Prince, we humbly beg you- take the Ruby Crown."
Lorian finally accepted the third request. Every Veridian present knelt in gratitude to the Prince who had 'generously' accepted the enormous 'burden' of leadership. With a great cheer, the black shroud was ripped from the Obsidian Throne. Across the City-State, the ashen-violet banners of mourning were torn down, replaced by the gold and crimson of the House of Throne. Fireworks covered the sky above the spire. Everyone knew,- Veridia had a new ruler.
Lady Seraphina watched with a heart full of pride, though a pang of regret pierced her; Elmsworth should have been the one to witness this. But the lady did not let her sorrow mar the joy of the moment, keeping her grief to herself. At Gravil's request, she stepped forward and handed the Ancestral Sword to her son. Lorian bowed gracefully, accepting the blade with great respect.
As was tradition, Void Mirrors had been placed at every major junction of Veridia. For those who could not be physically present in the Auric Spire, the crystals broadcasted the ceremony live. All eyes in the City-State were glued to the images shimmering in the air. When Lorian raised the Ancestral Sword high, a roar of excitement shook the city foundations. But the clamor died as quickly as it rose; it was time for the first speech of the New Lord.
"Veridians," Lorian began. His voice was projected through the crystals, reaching every ear in the territory.
"Nine days ago, we were a city in shock. We were a city with a gaping, ugly hole in its heart. I have heard the whispers in the streets. I have felt the fear that kept you from sleeping. You wondered if the walls would hold. You wondered if the Heptagon Accord would shatter like glass. You wondered if the greatness of Veridia died with my father.
Today, I, Lorian Throne, am here to tell you- Look at ME.
The period of mourning is over. Today, we haven't just buried a King; we are burying the idea that Veridia can ever be threatened, again. To every father in this city who was worried for his children, and to every merchant who was feared for his ships- sleep easy from tonight. Your safety isn't just another policy of the state; it is my personal debt to you. I am your shield, and I do not break.
To our friends across the Accord- Do not listen to rumors of our weakness. Veridia is not retreating. We are rising. And as we rise, we are going to pull every one of your cities into the light with us. Our walls are your walls. Our gold is your gold. Together, we are the only force on this continent that answers to no master.
There are those beyond our borders who think our time has passed. They think the 'Golden Age' belongs to someone else, somewhere far to the North. Let them think it. While they dream of the past, we are building the future. We don't need to beg for a seat at the table of any empire. We are going to build a table so grand, so powerful, that the rest of the world will have no choice but to come to us.
We aren't just a City-State anymore. We are the heartbeat of this continent.
Go home. Celebrate. Drink to the future. Because tomorrow, we stop mourning. Tomorrow, we start winning.
For Veridia! For the Accord! For the glory that is ours by right!"
The people erupted. The roar was a physical force, a venting of all the suppressed rage and passion of the last nine days. Lorian had given them an excuse to be fierce again, and they took it with a furor that bordered on madness.
As the broadcast ended, the Void Mirrors across the city shattered into fragments, as they always did after such a feat of magic. In years past, the poor would have scrambled to gather the shards to sell at high price. But today, no one cared for the glass. A wild rage had engulfed the city.
By stoking that fire, Lorian had effectively mounted a tiger. He knew that if he slowed down now, or tried to descend, the beast he had created would turn and devour him only.