GILGAMESH
COUNCIL WAS ALREADY IN SESSION WHEN THE FIRST PRINCE AND CROWN PRINCESS ENTERED TOGETHER, their footsteps echoing in the vast hall.
"What did you find in the north?" Their father questioned.
Arthur spoke first. "A celestial being, Father."
Whispers broke out among the advisors.
"A Celestial?""Here—?""Impossible, what about the decree?""Are we not safe—"
The king's hand rose, demanding silence. Beside him, Arthuria's concerned eyes flickered between her eldest children.
"Are you hurt?" she inquired.
"No," Artizea replied, hesitating. "But his power far exceeds anything I have ever seen. His strength is of a high rank, but blended in like a sniper. He was ruthless in his pursuit yet let us go without harm, all while refusing to give his name."
The King's expression darkened. Was that disappointment, she thought, they shifted to her once more. "What was his appearance?" Gilgamesh commanded.
She faltered, unsure how to proceed, briefly looking down to gather her story, before she could say, a shadow of broad shoulders stepped in front of her, "Arthur?" she mumbled.
"It was too dark to tell." He said firmly. "We were knocked unconscious. I failed to protect the Crown Princess; that is the truth. Grant me whatever punishment is fit."
The king rolled his eyes, completely ignoring his son's speech. "He was following the rules. You see now why the celestial realm cannot be trusted." He then turned sharply to the gathered representatives of the realm and said, "We must act quickly; by now, they may have guessed our next step and try to prevent its outcome," Gilgamesh said.
The council bowed their head.
"The council is to bear witness at the retraction of heaven's request to spectate the Rite of Challenge… as well as their permanent banishment from all human affairs, this decree will be in full effect starting n—."
Just then, the golden glow of the setting sun flooded in. The knights reached for their weapons, startled by the sudden brightness, until the light grew impossible to look at, their instincts overtaken, causing their eyes to close. The Royal Family, however, were not affected as much, if at all. Their hands were already drifting toward their respective weapons. On the throne, the king sat unbothered; he did not blink once. A figure formed from the light, wings spreading wide, until their true color of darkness showed, for who stood before them was none other than the Queen of Heaven, herself, radiant and terrifying. The goddess wore robes whiter than a virgin bride, and with every step, her dark hair flowed as if caught in an eternal wind. Her molten amber eyes scanned the room with a mixture of amusement and pity.
"Gil~" she purred, "It has been far too long. I simply had to drop in, though I hope I was not interrupting something important…"
Artizea and Arthur moved protectively in front of her younger siblings. Elaine stayed, clutching Eugene's, while he began muttering a beginner defensive spell on standby.
The king leaned back on his throne with thinly veiled irritation. "Ishtar…" he said coldly. "What a displeasure it is to see you again."
The goddess's smile widened, though it did not reach her eyes. "You wound me, Gil, truly. I hope you are not still bitter about rejecting my hand all those years ago. I am afraid it is too late for second thoughts," she chuckled, looking at his brood.
Gilgamesh leaned back, "I can see why bitterness and rejection would be in your vocabulary… after all—" he added dryly, "For it is your life's story."
That earned him a glare from the goddess.
Arthuria's brows furrowed; she looked between the two, then rolled her eyes, her instincts warning her that something was coming. "What is it that you want, Ishtar?" she demanded, her voice steadying the tension in the room.
The goddess's gaze shifted to Arthuria, her smile sharpening. She chuckled softly, the sound echoing unnaturally in the vast chamber. "Very well. It is we queens who carry the heavy lifting anyway—We are the backbone of our kingdom's success, you and I."
"Here is what is going to happen," Arthuria smiled sweetly, "I am going to count to ten in my head, and if your presence has no purpose, you will see the true need for a backbone." She threatened, causing the room to fall silent.
The king stuck his tongue out at the now silent goddess.
Ishtar scoffed, "Very well, your spawns have been poking around in my temple ruins. I did not quite appreciate it~" she purred
Arthur gave her a grim look.
"Have you forgotten the degree?" Arthuria said. "They are no longer yours to claim."
"How could I? We had such a spectacle of it. Fun times." Ishtar smiled in remembrance.
Arthuria stepped forward. "Enough games. Why are you here?"
Ishtar's expression shifted ever so slightly, still smiling, but now laced with something darker. "I have come on behalf of the celestial council, for the Rite of Challenge, your quaint little tradition, and we propose a change—"
A dark chuckle cut her off, "Your timing is impeccable," Gilgamesh said, still laughing, "It just so happens I too, have made a change of my own. The only thing you will be spectating is the final seal closing the crack in the sky," her said with authority.
"I wouldn't be so sure," Ishtar mused. "You can try to seal it… But you know as well as I that it will not stay shut for long. It never does." She stepped forward, voice dripping with mockery. "Have you forgotten the purpose of your birth? Buried it under that polished new name of yours?" She tilted her head, the smile turning venomous. "Do you even remember who you were, where you are from, what you represent?" She spat, dragging her gaze from his eldest to youngest, then settling on him. "Do your kin?"
Artizea side-glanced at her Father with mild confusion as the words made his expression darken.
"You dare bring your meddling into my realm, once more?"
Ishtar raised a hand, "I am all about tradition—" feigning innocence. "And tradition dedicates any worthy soul to challenge the crown. My son is worthy as one comes." Her tone turned cold.
"If you shat him out, maybe—" Gilgamesh added.
That earned a sudden wheezing laugh from Arthur before Artizea quickly clapped a hand over his mouth, still trying, and failing, to stifle him.
Ishtar rolled her eyes, clearly unimpressed. "How about this…If he 'loses', the decree remains, and you may 'seal' your sky. But if he wins… then the decree is lifted, and our realms can finally unite against far greater threats than each other."
The room went deathly silent.
Gilgamesh's grip tightened on his throne. "And where is this son of yours? How unlike you not to bring your bargaining pawns with you."
"ThePrince—" she hissed, "will arrive when the time is right. This is merely a formal introduction."
Arthuria stepped forward, her jaw clenched. "And you think I will accept this?"
"This has nothing to do with what you shant accept, your majesty…" she said smoothly. "It is about what your dear husband will allow," she turned to the king, "And I suspect…he knows better than to refuse."
Gilgamesh rose from his throne, "Enough," he commanded, "Leave my court and my realm. If your son wishes to walk to his death, you shall return as a witness to his fate, the same fate as every other fool who's challenged the crown before you."
Ishtar did not falter. "It seems I have overstayed my welcome," she sighed with a pout. "To think after all these years, that ego of yours still stands strong, I still dream of a day when it finally succumbs to reality. A day when the great monarch of humanity is on his knees, along with his precious dynasty falling with him. Wouldn't that be a sight…"
With a mockingly respectful incline of her head, while her laughter echoed upon her ascent back to light, leaving the court standing in silence.
Arthuria immediately turned to her husband. "You cannot seriously be considering this," she hissed.
Gilgamesh sighed, sitting back down on his throne. "The Rite is a tradition older than this kingdom's rules upon the fountain—"
"I care little for such trivialities—Change. it!" She gritted out.
His eyes soften in their argument. They had yet to have one in many years.
"You are asking her to fight a celestial!" she added.
From across the room, Artizea stepped forward. Her expression was composed, but her stance spoke of resolve forged in fire. "If he enters the Rite, I will face him." Her mother's head snapped toward her with anguish, "I cannot back down from this fight."
Gilgamesh leaned forward, "If you are not strong enough to face this, then no one is. Do not make me lair."
Artizea held his gaze, though unease stirred within her. But she gave a single, firm nod, "I won't."
Arthuria's lips went into a thin line, then she stormed out of the throne room, the murmurs awakening in her absence. A chill curled around Artizea's chest. Whoever this Prince was, he would be unlike any opponent she had ever faced before,but she would be ready. She had to be. She will be.
ARTHUR
The stench of stale ale and unwashed bodies thickened in the air through the tavern. Eric, already well into his cups, leaned back in his chair, a cocky grin plastered across his face while entertaining a group of half-interested onlookers.
"Ah, the Crown Princess," Eric slurred, raising his mug high. "She acts all high and mighty now, but let me tell you something—" He paused for dramatic effect, swaying slightly when he leaned in closer. "She was trembling with pleasure when I had her in my arms…"
The men around him exchanged uneasy glances. While Eric might have thought himself charming, his words carried a venomous weight. A few slipped away from the table, unwilling to be caught in his orbit when the inevitable came crashing down.
Eric laughed, obliviously, "They can all talk about honor and legacy all they like, but the Crown Princess is nothing but a—"
The sound of a heavy door slamming echoed through the training yard. The metallic clang of swords and Arthur's voice, barking orders of drill corrections, filled the area until a knight rushed in, his face pale and his breath ragged.
"My Prince—," Sir James said breathlessly, bowing quickly.
Arthur was mid-parry, froze, and turned to face the man, lowering his blade. "What is it?" he huffed out.
"it is Eric, My Prince…"
The mention of that name made Arthur's demeanor change. "What of him?"
"He's at the tavern… speaking of the Crown Princess in a manner unbecoming of… He claims to have… sullied her honor…" Sir James hesitated before adding, "He called her… a good lay," he whispered hesitantly.
Arthur's jaw clicked, his face pale with disgust, then his ocean eyes turned into a darkened storm. He said nothing while handing his practice sword to a nearby knight and removing the sweat-stained tunic clinging to his frame. "Where is my sister now?"
"Her royal highness left for her chamber shortly after court," Sir James answered, looking away slightly.
"And the traitor?" Arthur demanded, his fury barely contained.
"The tavern, My Prince—," Sir James replied
Arthur nodded to himself, then retrieved a fresh shirt brought to him by a blushing maid, his movements precise while retrieving his blade. He spoke without looking back, his voice ice cold, "Tell no one where I am going. I will handle this myself."
ARTIZEA
Artizea was on her way to bed, but she remembered she owed someone an apology. So she sought out Eugene in his chambers.
A quiet knock made Eugene look up from his desk. "Come in." He said.
"You were right," Artizea said without preamble, her voice quieter than usual.
Eugene looked up from his books, raising an eyebrow, but did not respond, waiting for her to continue. "I should not have dismissed you," she admitted, still her gaze fixed on the floor. "Your insights saved us, as usual… I am sorry, Eugene. I have been a terrible big sister."
Eugene sighed, "You have been a busy sister," setting his book aside. "I know you carry more than your share of the burden, Tizea. But you don't have to be a bitch about it."
Artizea looked at him, her eyes softening. "I will try to do better. To listen and to trust you," Eugene folded his arms and leaned back slightly, waiting. She rolled her eyes and sighed dramatically, "And, I will grant you one request that I cannot refuse." Placing her hand to her heart, "I swear upon mother's roses."
Eugene smiled faintly, the calm that so often cloaked him settling back over his features. He extended a hand.
She took it with a quiet smile, then took a breath and blurted out, "I saw something else, in the north, well, a lot of things…"
Eugene's eyes narrowed slightly. "What did you see?"
"Abnormalities." Her voice grew lower. "There was this creature… we eliminated it, but it was not normal. I remember you mentioned a smell in the air. I wondered if you might have more insight."
"I would need a full report," Eugene replied, his tone shifting into something more clinical. "As soon as you can draft one."
Artizea nodded. She turned, putting her hand on the doorknob, and paused to glance back. "And also—Thank you, Brother, for all you do, even if the realm does not see, I see it"
Eugene looked up at her, one of his brows rising. "You are being overly affectionate. Stop it."
She chuckled, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. He smiled in return, the corner of his mouth lifting just slightly.
"You did not tell Father," Eugene said after a beat. "Why?"
Artizea exhaled. "I— do not know. Everything happened so fast today. The Rite, Celestia… and Mother was furious. I have never seen her like that before."
Eugene gave a quiet sigh. "One can only pray we will still have a father by the morrow."
GILGAMESH & ARTHURIA
Arthuria sat by the window, staring out at the kingdom and the stars above, her expression unknown to Gilgamesh, who stood by the door, his gaze set on the flickering candlelight that cast long shadows across their chambers, anything to keep from looking at her. For the only thing he feared more than his wife… was the haunting weight of déjà vu. It had been a long day, and a growing uneasy feeling clawed at their chest, the kind of nagging feeling that refused to leave. One could only call it what it was.
Fear.
The silence between them stretched long and heavy until Artizea finally spoke. "Gil," she began, her voice steady but tinged with pain, "I beg you not to let her fight. She's not ready for this; no one can be." She added with barely restrained anger. "This is not just another rite, it is divine war masquerading as a duel!"
He crossed his arms in frustration. "And what would you have me do, Arthuria? Tell her no? Lock her in her room? She's no longer a child—she's the Crown Princess," he sighed, "We both knew this day would come, and she's made her choice."
"No! You made that choice!" She shouted, "You know she would go to the ends of the earth to find that damned immortal snake if you asked her to." She pointed out the window, her gaze not leaving his, "Have you forgotten that day— the day when we almost lost our daughter? What if this fight is the final catalyst? She was barely more than a girl then!"
Gilgamesh's fists clenched, "She's lived in fear far enough," he paused, "And so have we."
"I will not have her thrown into yet another spectacle for your pride." She snapped, spinning on her heel to face him.
"Do you truly think I wanted that? That I wish for this? Do you think I do not worry about her every waking moment?" he took a step toward her, "Because I do. This is not about me; it is about preparing her for the battles she will face when we are gone. What they will all face."
Arthuria shook her head. "And what if she does not make it out of this one?" She shot back, "What if this rite takes her from us before she even has a chance to live? Her voice cracking
He reached for her and pulled her into his chest while she sobbed quietly. His voice softens slightly. "Every crowned heir must face it, whether they are prepared or not. You know that."
Arthuria stilled, "Do I not get a say in what happens to her?"
Gilgamesh closed his eyes, then took a deep breath. When he opened them back, they narrowly locked onto hers. "You have had your say, Arthuria, but this is not your decision to make. Artizea's fate is tied to the throne, and that is myresponsibility. She is my heir."
Arthuria's expression hardened, taking a step back from him. "Your heir? Your responsibility? You think I do not carry that same weight? You would not even have an heir if it were not for me! I am the backbone of this kingdom, and you know!" Her fury had reached its peak. "To think I would ever find myself agreeing with that wretched goddess… and yet, here we are," she chuckled bitterly.
Gilgamesh scoffed, turning away from her while running a hand through his hair. "I have already taken your name. What more is it that you want from me?" The minute those words left his mouth, he instantly regretted them. He turned back to see his wife's eyes widen in disbelief, along with dulling in color in slow motion, her hands dropped to her sides as the weight of it all finally settled over her. Her voice, when it came, was almost inaudible, but he heard every word.
"What more do I want from you?" Arthuria repeated, her voice trembling with hurt, "Nothing, Gil. I want nothing from you…"
Without warning, she grabbed a vase from a nearby table and hurled it at him. The porcelain shattered against the wall, fragments scattering like pieces of her broken heart. He stared at it for a moment, then shifted his gaze back to her. "How dare you!" she screamed, her voice breaking once more, "These are my children. I carried them, I bore them, I brought them into this world! While all you did was fill me up and wait!"
"Arthuria—" He began, slowly stepping toward her in caution
"Do not Arthuria Me!" she growled, throwing another object, "How dare you stand there and act like your sacrifices are greater than mine! I asked for one thing: to keep our family safe. To keep her safe."
Gilgamesh attempted to respond, but she lunged at him, her strength fueled by a storm of anger and grief, yet it barely pushed him a step backward. Her hands gripped his tunic in frustration, but instead of fighting back, he caught her wrists gently, holding her hands firmly in his own. For a moment, they struggled, her fury meeting his unyielding resistance to keep her close.
"My love," he said softly,
Arthuria still struggled for a moment longer, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps, when he slowly pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her in a quiet embrace. His touch had always been a silent apology for the words he could never find. She trembled against him, her anger giving way to the tears she had tried to hold back.
"I have lost too much to war, Gil," she whispered, "I cannot bear any more of it."
"You won't," he murmured, "I promised you, you won't."
For a while, they stayed like that, but as the silence stretched, Arthuria pulled back, sniffling.
"You did promise…" she finally said. "Knowing full well you could not keep it."
His jaw tightened, closing his eyes once more.
"You do not see it, do you?" She whispered.
His eyes snapped back open, locked onto hers.
"You do not see how much she's like you. How much she adores you, how far she would go to make you proud. How much she needs you," she murmured, the bitterness of the situation sinking into her soul. "You are pushing her too hard, Gil."
For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The only sound in the room was the faint crackle of the fire. Gilgamesh watched her in silence, in fear that whatever he said next would ruin things further.
Arthuria's heart ached from the widening rift between them, and she tried to steady the storm inside of her. She had always known her husband's pride was as vast as their kingdom, but this time, it felt as though it had incinerated the bond they had fought so hard to build. "She's our daughter," she whispered, the words breaking the moment they left her lips. "Not just yours. Ours."
He reached out, his hand gently cupping her cheek, "I will. Always. Worry." declared firmly.
Their forehead met, and for a brief moment, she allowed herself to lean into his touch, feeling the warmth of his hands, but it did not erase the now hollow feeling of coldness in her heart. She let out a sharp breath, her hands clenched into fists.
"it is not good enough," she said, slowly backing away, turning toward the door.
"Arthuria—" Gilgamesh's hands refusing to let her go, "Be as furious with me as you wish, but I refuse to sleep in a bed you are not in," he pledged.
"Is this the wish of my husband or the king?"
"Does it matter?!"
"Yes." She turned to face him, her chest tightening at the sight of him. "Because I very much need to be away from my husband tonight,"
Gilgamesh stilled, "We vowed to be together every night," he growled out.
"You do not get to play the vow card after breaking several," she shot back.
His jaw flexed. She was not just talking about the present. "That is not fair," he said, his voice softening slightly. Though his voice remained steady. "You wish to sleep apart from me, because of some fleeting disagreement?"
Arthuria 's brow furrowed, frustration bubbling back up. "It has nothing to do with that."
"Then tell me the truth."
She hesitated, torn between her duties as wife and queen, along with her fear for their daughter, and the quiet sorrow that had built up inside her. Her tears threatened to start anew.
Gilgamesh stood there as the silence between grew, his hands hovering. He narrowed his eyes in thought. "Is this about him?"
Arthuria's eyes snap open to him in fury and confusion, "Who?" His silence said more than enough. The pieces started to connect the instant she matched his gaze, "Surely you are not suggesting what I think you are…"
"I am not suggestinganything." He snapped, "I am asking my wife a question, and my wife will answer me."
Arthuria stared at him, "We have four children," she snapped, her voice sharp with disbelief. "You are my husband and King!"
"And it is clearly not enough for you." He growled, stepping aside from her frozen figure, beginning to pace their room, "You never even wanted to be queen, you never wished for any of this—" his boots striking the marble with restless frustration. "If you could go back in time, you would stay in your cottage, away from it all, away from…me." His hands raked through his hair once more, as if trying to pull sense from the chaos, then chuckled darkly.As if he would allow that in any universe.
"You are deflecting the situation," she barked, "most of all being ridiculous!"
"Am I?' His gaze snapped back to her.
"Yes! This is our home."
"Then why, in the six realms, if you are so happy in our home, the home we built together,do you wish to leave it. To sleep in a cottage, far away from our family, far away from the man you married, even when he is screaming for you, to stay!" He rasped, "Answer me that, Arthuria!"
She froze at the call of her name. He had said it a thousand times, in a thousand different ways, but the way he said it now hurt more than the fact that they were even having this conversation."That is a very good question," she said softly. "Maybe you should ask him when you find him again!"
"I am right here! I am always here—" he roared, his voice cracking. "Tell me…"
This was Suffocating. He was suffocating.
"Because I do not wish to bear the burden of being your wife tonight!" she admitted
Gilgamesh stood still. Breathless. Wounded, the weight of her words did more damage than any blade could hope to dream.
With a lingering glance at her husband, "Nor tomorrow," she added.
His heart shattered just a little more, then completely broke while watching her reach for her hand, slowly pulling off her wedding ring. The simple gold band gleamed in the light, now placed on the table between them, with a soft clink. His eyes widened, the realization of what she was doing hitting him in the gut; the only thing left in him was an automatic cautionary response.
"No," he rasped.
"You are the one who asked me to marry you," her tone was hollow. "Even after I said no, thrice."
"No…" he repeated, at least he thought he did.
"You said it yourself, I never wanted any of this, but I chose it. I chose you because, for the first time in my life, someone asked me what I wished for, and for the first time in my life, I wanted something. I wanted you—For better or for worse, For richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, Till death do us part, I wished for you!" It was as if they were there again, hand in hand at the altar. Just then, a tire fell from her face, "But you are killing me right now, Gil." She whispered.
Gilgamesh realized the truth behind his hesitation to speak; it was because she was right; he was a fool back then, and an even greater one now. The only difference was that he was older, which was worse, becausehe should have been wiser.Instead, he had not learn a damn thing in twenty-four years of marriage, and that was a gods be damned shame. Especially when the woman right in front of him, the same woman he so proudly called the love of his life, And Yet…
"… you stand there and question my love…for you, as if it were a fleeting thing of no consequence." She concluded.
Fuck, she was his soulmate, alright, he thought, "I did not mean—," he finally managed.
"But you did mean it," Arthuria snapped, "you always mean it, Because The Great King Gilgamesh, Monarch of humanity, is always right." Her voice broke at the last word. She had shaken the feeling that something was breaking between them through the years, but she never knew how to bridge the distance, essentially putting it on the back burner. Now, upon staring at the aftermath of a growing chasm between herself and the man she had loved unconditionally for so long, she still had not the slightest idea of what to do. And she was so tired, she was not sure she wished to try.
Gilgamesh stepped closer in defiance of the invisible wall she had placed, but when Arthuria took a step back, taking a little piece of his soul with her, along with the light in his eyes as they instantly dimmed in saturation. He found himself mute, struggling to find the right words, hell, maybe even a vowel. Before he knew it, their door slammed shut in his face. His hand flew to his chest, as if searching for a heartbeat, but it was gone.
His lioness… was gone.
ERIC
The dimly lit bar was alive with drunken laughter, the scent of spilled ale, and that of cigar.
Eric sat at a corner table, a deck of cards spread out in front of him, his grin as smug as ever. He had been riding the high of his imminent departure, believing himself untouchable. "Ha!" he slapped his hand on the table, drawing a card from the deck. It revealed an armored knight, triumphant and resolute. He sneered, flashing the card to the man sitting across from him. "My knight beats your king. Pay up—" The word caught in his throat as a subtle, unnatural whisper of steel swept through the air. The knight card seemed to split in two, and a clean cut, considering the sharp line.
Time seemed to freeze for the briefest of moments as the patrons around the table recoiled in horror, drunken fools turned instantly sober when Eric's head slid cleanly from his neck, hitting the floor with a watery thud, his lifeless eyes still wide with shock. A sword still gleaming with blood hovered above it. The room erupted into chaos as men scrambled for the exits, tripping over tables and each other in their desperate bid to escape.
The barkeeper trembled while clutching a rag to his chest, muttering a prayer under his breath. He dared a glance over the counter, just in time to see the assassin push back his hood, revealing his identity.
Arthur's face was calm from his side profile, but even if he could not see both the first prince's eyes, he could tell they held unrelenting fury. The sword sang its final lullaby of death when he raised it.
The barkeeper ducked, pressing himself flat behind the counter once more. He heard the hiss of a blade sheathing, the clink of a bag hitting wood, and the steady thud of boots walking away. A door creaked open, then silence. Heart still hammering, the barkeeper rose. A heavy purse of coins sat on the table beside a lifeless body slumped over, its head gone. Finally, his gaze narrowed at a grotesque irony staring back at him. The head of the knight card, now stained in red, floated beside Eric's headless body.