Rise of Tyrus

Tyrus stayed there, suspended in disbelief as pillars of light surrounded his every direction. His body felt as if it were falling, yet the culprit of his capture feet remained planted on the ground, or what was a platform of solidified light. He blinked, and when he opened his eyes, he was greeted with solid ground.

The floor was carpeted, and the room smelled of lavender. A floor as glossy as pearls sparkled even under the dreary light permeating through the windows in what appeared to be a long hallway. Unlit candle holders with three prongs were hung on the walls, yet they contained no candles at all, only balls of floating suns that emitted a soothing, warm glow.

"Where am I?" Tyrus blurted.

He felt his body turn as Othelia spun around, facing a door that matched the floor. Her grip relaxed somewhat, and she repositioned Tyrus to where she looped her arm around his stomach, holding him as if she were carrying a sack under her arms.

Water dripped from his soaked garments and onto the pristine carpet, leaving behind small stains. He felt his shoulders beginning to tremble from the cold. It wasn't a cold that would give him a fever, but rather the feeling of wet clothes sticking to one's skin was rather uncomfortable.

While she gave the door three soft taps—which Tyrus found odd since she had been bursting through every door so far—he looked out at one of the windows, and his heart skipped a beat. Far below and in the distance was a multitude of homes and shops, and he immediately recognized a tower he climbed atop a while ago near the city outskirts. For him to be looking down at these buildings meant he was somewhere high up, and only one place came to mind when he first laid eyes upon the city.

"You may enter," said a voice on the other side of the door. Othelia pushed the door open, and they entered the room. Tyrus' eyes grew wide and his breath hitched when he saw the spectacle before him.

A massive throne room resided. The ceiling was at least seven men tall, and the floor was the same glossy, marble surface as the halls—Tyrus could even see his reflection staring back at him. The carpet beneath his boots was of a deep ocean blue, stretching from the door to across the room. At the end of the carpet were steps leading toward an elevated platform; a throne of white gold and blue silk cushions that seemed to sparkle with diamonds. And on the throne was a man who looked to be in his late forties.

His face was handsome and rugged, yet it carried an aura of wisdom, one that could only come from experience. This man's light hair was brushed back, free from any constraints. Eyes that matched his hair color shined brilliantly; His chin was adorned with a well-groomed mustache and goatee, and his skin seemed smooth. He wore similar attire as the royal knights, but on top of everything was a blue robe that reached the floor.

The man's expression was stern and serious as he gazed down upon them, his elbows resting against the arms of his throne and his hands folded together. Beneath the steps of the throne were a few others, much older, carrying books and parchments. They too looked at him with serious expressions.

Othelia dropped to one knee and bowed her head. "I greet His Majesty. I have returned from my mission."

Tyrus, who was still in her clutches and his nose nearly touching the floor, gasped. He was in the presence of the emperor of Lethos! That meant he truly was in the Imperial Palace itself and was thrust straight into dangerous territory. His heart beat violently as the fear began to sink in.

"You may rise," Emperor Johan ordered.

Othelia immediately rose to her feet, and Tyrus was still hanging by the scruff of his shirt. He was beginning to feel lightheaded and was sure the blood was rushing to his face.

"Your Majesty," Othelia said, dropping Tyrus into a splattering mess. "After you sent me to investigate the intrusion underneath the city, I have found this Demi-human alongside others wandering the catacombs. Upon closer inspection, I quickly found out that he is none other than a black tiger."

Gasps from the older men rang through the throne room. Some whispered among themselves while others were shaking their heads.

"A black tiger..." one murmured, his face etched with deep lines. "How did one of these vermin infiltrate the illustrious capital?"

"He must be executed!" another screamed, this time with spectacles with rims as round as a moon. "The Beastfolk are our enemies, Your Majesty. Allowing one to sully our land is akin to an insult, and an insult cannot go unpunished."

Tyrus gritted his teeth and narrowed his eyes. He was tired of hearing such hateful words. Why was everyone so against him when he has done no wrong? Everywhere he went, be it a tavern or just taking a stroll, there are those who look at him with skepticism or hate in their eyes. Some regard him as trash, someone less than human. Not everyone thought that way, but he hated the fact that there was a person, even one, that carried a sense of loathing against him.

Emperor Johan studied him intently, and Tyrus could sense that he was assessing him. He held a hand up to silence the lively old men, and the throne room immediately fell quiet.

"A black tiger you say," the emperor finally spoke, breaking the silence. "This is indeed an interesting turn of events. The shape of his ears and tail match those of the Tiger Tribe. I can also tell that the Demi-human has awakened. For someone so young, he possesses a sizable mana pool, as expected of the Tiger Tribe. But to confirm this, we have to identify his primary affinity."

The room grew silent as everyone focused their attention on Tyrus. He looked around the room, confused about what they were trying to get at. Only until he felt something sharp poking him on his back did he look back to see a spear aimed right between his shoulder blades. It finally dawned on him what Emperor Johan was trying to get at.

If I refuse to show him my lightning, then he might order her to drive that spear into me. Better to do what he asks and not do anything stupid.

Tyrus rose to his feet, flinching from the sudden burst of cold nipping at his skin. The pressure from the spear on his back disappeared as he straightened his back, looking at the emperor directly in his eyes. Tyrus raised his hand, summoning forth lightning as it crackled along his palm. Emperor Johan's eyes turned to slits.

The one with the spectacles spoke. "Your Majesty, this child should not have been allowed into the capital, let alone the palace. Royal Knight Othelia, what is the meaning of bringing the enemy right to our doorstep? Have you no shame!"

Othelia glared at the man and said, "I concluded this was an issue that needed to be addressed immediately by His Majesty."

"Then why not have one of the guards take him in for questioning at one of the jails? Why bring him here yourself and disturb our audience with His Majesty?"

All she did was remain quiet, and that was enough to infuriate the older man. His cheeks turned bright red. It looked like he was about to shout again, but the emperor's voice interrupted him.

"Explain yourself, Royal Knight Othelia, so that we may all understand."

"Yes, Your Majesty," she said, bowing. Quickly, she repeated what Grant and Fiona had told her while they were underground, even mentioning how Tyrus was part of the Explorer Guild and was accepted by not only Selena, but Royal Knight Geroth as well. As the emperor listened intently to her report, Tyrus noticed him glancing at the explorer tag around his neck.

The corners of his lips curled the longer he listened, and Tyrus was getting a really bad feeling about this whole situation. The emperor stroked his beard, leaning back in his seat, his gaze focused solely on the boy. As soon as Othelia mentioned that Igneal Lockhart was part of their group, Emperor Johan's eyes lit up, and he let out a hearty laugh that had the others in the room looking at him, confused.

"Pardon me. I did not mean to lose control of myself. I just find this whole situation quite amusing. You say two Lockharts and a royal knight had no qualms with allowing a black tiger walk around Lethos scot-free? Knowing our position, they've accepted this Demi-human here without so much as batting an eye? I find it hard to believe Selena allowed him to enter the Explorer Guild with the assassination attempts running rampant amongst the Great Lineages."

Emperor Johan, with a smile still plastered on his face, rose from his seat and began descending the steps, one step at a time. His footsteps were soft and elegant, yet they reverberated throughout the chamber. The sound made him seem more imposing and intimidating.

The massive windows behind him offered a clear view of the sea that laid near Lethos, waves lapping smoothly along the shore as lightning flashes amongst the shadowy clouds. Hung on the walls of the room were paintings of men, women, and children. All of them carried the same hair and eye color, which meant they must've been a family.

Emperor Johan stopped in front of the soaked Tyrus, standing tall. The man was shorter than Grant, but not by that much. Though he looked old, the emperor appeared to be very well-trained and built, that Tyrus could tell through his lavish attire. Tyrus hadn't noticed it before, but a sheath rested through his belt, a white hilt with blue jewels sticking out.

The emperor locked eyes with Tyrus, who met his gaze by tilting his head back. However, this proved to be a regrettable decision as someone abruptly kicked the back of Tyrus's knee, causing him to stumble and drop to one knee. Glancing over his shoulder, he discovered Othelia standing there, her expression impassive. Recalling her earlier advice on showing respect, he let out a low growl and reluctantly bowed.

Emperor Johan chuckled and remarked, "This one certainly has guts. There's a fire in his eyes that remains unextinguished, even when confronted by his superiors. Black tiger, let me ask you, do you have any idea where you are and who you're in the presence of?"

"You're the emperor, Johan, the ruler of Lethos," Tyrus said.

"Hmph, close enough. I am Johan Lethos, emperor of the Lethos Empire. Some refer to me as Bright One, the Fifth Emperor, or just Johan if they're feeling rebellious. What is your name, Demi-human?"

Tyrus squinted at the man. What kind of game was he playing at? The emperor was acting nonchalant, as if nothing was wrong. If anything, he seemed happy, or rather excited, to meet him, which was very unusual considering the other people's reaction to him.

What was even more odd was how little mana Emperor Johan exuded. For an emperor, shouldn't he be the strongest in Lethos? At the moment, Johan had a pitiful amount, lesser than his own. Even then, there was something off about him. Though his mana pool was small, it was still powerful. It was kind of creeping him out.

"Tyrus," he finally said. "My name is Tyrus."

"No surname?" the emperor remarked.

"I don't have one. Only my given name, but even I don't know who gave it to me. I've been alone for as long as I can remember."

Emperor Johan arched an eyebrow as he questioned, "Alone, you say? Tell me, young lad, what is your age? And how long have you been wandering the empire?"

"It says ten on my tag," Tyrus said. "And four years I've been living in Lethos."

"I see," the man muttered, stroking his beard. Suddenly, he reached forward and grabbed Tyrus's arm, squeezing it. Johan's grip was firm, and it felt like he could snap the bones in his arm.

"You've got a sturdy build for someone your age. It must be because of your black tiger blood. Your palms are rough too, not smooth like most kids your age."

"Your Majesty, you mustn't get so close to him!" said the one with spectacles. "He must be an assassin sent from the Beastfolk Kingdom!"

Johan scoffed. "I find it insulting you assume a ten-year-old child can best me, Solomnus. Even if he were an assassin and I asleep, the boy would still fail to take my life.

Solomnus adjusted his spectacles nervously and said, "I apologise for my insolence, Your Majesty, but the risk is simply too great. Even the Beastfolk are cunning creatures that will do anything for their survival, including using the body of a child as a disguise. There may be poison lacing his nails, or a dagger hidden under his cloak. Who knows what other tricks they might have up their sleeve? I am purely troubled by your safety."

"I'm touched by your concern," Johan chuckled. "However, if the Beastfolk are truly that resourceful, then they would have no need to use a ten-year-old boy as an assassin; I don't think they even resort to such cowardly tricks. And besides, a royal knight and Selena have already accepted him. Are you implying their judgement is clouded?"

"N-no, Your Majesty. I would never doubt Royal Knight Geroth's authenticity. In these cases, it is best to be cautious. That is all I am trying to convey."

Without a word, Johan let go of Tyrus wet arm and backed away slowly. He strode over to Othelia, stopping shoulder-to-shoulder.

"Othelia, do you think this Demi-human was sent by the Beastfolk to take my life?"

"No, Your Majesty," Othelia replied, her head held high. "If he was one, then he is the worst assassin in Lethos' history. No assassin would act so boldly and join the Explorer Guild without masking their ears and tail."

"Hmmm," the emperor hummed. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "You are right. It would make no sense if the Beastfolk wanted him to be discovered, and that is assuming they are that foolish."

Emperor Johan peeked over his shoulder and inspected Tyrus for a few seconds before turning. "I will postpone our audience for a later date, Solumnus, Varste. It seems like more pressing matters have waltzed into my doorstep. You may leave."

"As you wish, Your Majesty," they said, one after another.

The two elderly men gathered their documents and left, the sounds of their shuffling feet echoing through the empty chamber. Solumnus gave Tyrus a piercing glare as he walked past, while Varste ignored him and kept his head down.

As soon as they vacated the throne room, Emperor Johan clapped his hands together. Not even half a minute has passed before the doors burst open, and in came a group of men and women of various ages. They gathered around the front door in a single line, their upper torsos bent forward and their fists placed over their hearts.

"We greet His Majesty," they said in unison.

"You may rise," he stated.

Without delay, all individuals in the room immediately stood upright. Among the group of ten, half were men and the other half were women. The women gracefully adorned themselves in long, flowing dresses, perfectly coordinated with the colors of the empire. Some elegantly tied up their hair, while others chose to leave their locks cascading freely. On the other hand, the men sported suits paired with crisp white collared shirts and matching trousers. Interestingly, two of the newcomers stood out from the rest, proudly displaying Lethos' insignia pinned to their chests.

"Watch over this young boy named Tyrus. I want him to be cleaned and fed. Then, he will be brought before me and we shall begin the interrogation tomorrow with the others present. Make sure that this task is carried out swiftly and that he is taken care of."

"Understood, Your Majesty," the group chorused, bowing once more.

Emperor Johan looked over to Othelia and said, "Thank you for bringing this to my immediate attention, Othelia."

"It is an honor to serve you, Your Majesty," she replied.

He nodded. "You all are dismissed until further notice. In the meantime, I will be in my office, conducting the preparations. Wes, Yuvial, report to me if anything happens."

"Yes, Your Majesty," the two answered.

Emperor Johan turned his back to the group, his robes flowing gently behind him as he sauntered out of the room alongside Othelia. Tyrus stood there, completely dumbfounded as the two named Wes and Yuvial approached him calmly.