Why Lay This Burden at My Feet
“Why… why are you trying to pin all of this on me?”__
The king’s voice, already frayed, erupted like a beast’s furious howl. Owen of the Arrowwood Tribe stood unmoving, his thin smile untouched.__
“In such moments, one would ordinarily demand proof, not just accusations. Your Majesty seems to have lost the very virtue Solinar holds most sacred—tranquility.”__
The king froze. His face drained of color, then flushed crimson. A heavy silence pressed down on the audience hall. He drew a slow breath, steadied himself, and readjusted the crown that had slipped askew. Yet the tremor he could no longer conceal had already burned itself into every eye—__
…and the prince’s as well.__
Owen had not slept well that night. He pushed the arrogant elder aside and drove the king and prince with relentless, calculated strikes.__
“Your Majesty, why not simply ask the forest spirit to retrieve your memories? If you truly have nothing to fear, do so.”__
“How dare you doubt and scorn us so relentlessly?”__
The king’s protest carried no strength. His hand shook as he pressed two fingers to his temple.__
“This is madness. The forest spirits loathe being dragged into human affairs. They always demand a price. Can Owen truly answer for his own words?”__
Arkin’s breathing had grown ragged. The elders of the Arrowwood Tribe and their allies were clearly enjoying themselves, wolves circling prey. How much longer could he endure their endless provocations? Even if they claimed they wanted this path, he should at least verify it properly.__
Yet what truly unsettled him was the unfamiliar, cold indifference of his own father. Why? Why? A thread of suspicion he refused to acknowledge began to rise.__
“Hm. If verifying the oracle will prove difficult for a time, then let us wait and discuss other matters.”__
Owen let out a mocking laugh and turned.__
“Bring him.”__
At the gesture, armed soldiers dragged a struggling figure into the hall. The king’s breath caught.__
“Where exactly did you intend to drag these people?”__
“Kneel!”__
The captive was forced to his knees. The moment Arkin recognized the powerless man on the floor, ice crawled up his spine. Their true aim had never been to question the oracle at all. This was the real ambush.__
“Word has it that the prince burns Necromansia every night to sleep because of nightmares. Quite a long time now, wouldn’t you say?”__
“That’s absurd!”__
“He’s rumored to be the only one smuggling the herb into the palace—our sole supply line from beyond the borders. We should expel him at once and burn every herb he possesses.”__
Enough. Arkin could endure no more humiliation. Fury churned inside his chest. Why now? Why this exact method? He could see how meticulously they had prepared. They had zeroed in on his weakness.__
Necromansia. Without it, Arkin could not sleep peacefully even a single day. When nightmares struck, he thrashed until dawn, screaming awake. It was the only remedy. But he would never let them discover it.__
“Owen.”__
Arkin rose, shoving his seat aside. The air in the hall tightened instantly. Every gaze locked onto him. His eyes blazed as he stared down the Arrowwood elder.__
“Though I held my tongue while my father sat at the throne, from now on I will speak directly to you.”__
He stepped until he stood inches from the elder’s face, eyes locked on the old hatred burning in those orbs. He forced himself to swallow the urge to slap that smug expression away and spoke.__
“As you know, the World Union Training Tournament will soon begin on Credo Island. When six months of training are complete, I will receive my second oracle. I will stake my throne on it. Every doubt you have raised will be proven false.”__
“How do you intend to stake your oracle?”__
“As soon as the sun rises, I will swear before the shrine of Solinar. If even a single word of the oracle I received was false, I will relinquish the throne without hesitation.”__
Arkin swept a cold glance across Owen and the other elders. One elder gripped his staff tighter, chin lifted in defiance, but he offered no further protest.__ LT__/p>
The elders of the other eight houses fell silent, trapped in their own mouths. Arkin calmly studied their blank, startled faces, feeling the weight of his father’s gaze boring into the back of his neck.__
“Very well. You wanted to bet on the throne. As a prince of Solinar, I have always given my best and lived without a single shred of shame. I admit your eight sons are talented, but none of them is truly ready to surpass me. Am I wrong?”__
Hahaha, ahahaha!__
Owen burst into a nervous, hysterical laugh, then clamped his teeth together after a sharp hiss.__
“Excellent. What a noble resolve, Your Majesty. Truly magnificent.”__
Owen’s eyes flicked between the king and Arkin with barely contained excitement.__
“Tomorrow will be most entertaining. When the sun rises, let us proceed to the shrine. We shall bear witness to the prince’s oath and become the sacred witnesses of this holy pact.”__
Leading the charge, the elders filed out of the hall. The moment the doors closed, Arkin exhaled a long, exhausted breath. At least this much was settled. Things would grow quiet for a while.__
“Father, I am sorry for troubling you….”__
He turned toward the king but froze. The monarch stared at him with bloodshot eyes brimming with tears. His trembling hand removed the crown and dropped it to his lap.__
“Why would you do something so foolish?”__
“But Your Majesty, if it is not true, there is no issue….”__
A hollow weight settled in Arkin’s chest. His father’s face was deathly pale, sweat beading despite the chill. The king’s voice cracked like shattering ice.__
“Without a single word to me, you intend to swear at the shrine as you please? Do you not know that oaths sworn in the shrine are meaningless? The power of an oath is absolute, Arkin. The gods remember everything!”__
The gods remember everything…__
Arkin’s face hardened. He closed his eyes against the painful sight of his father and the terrifying silence that surrounded them.__
“I remember, Arkin. I have remembered clearly.”__
The king whispered as though still dreaming.__
“‘A precious child born in the quiet forest shall become the master of the ice forest.’ That was the oracle you received at birth.”__
“I know, Father.”__
“Do you? You should know it. Their babble is not worth your attention. These people have always coveted the throne. They would stop at nothing to drive out the Birch family—filthy, contemptible creatures!”__
He had not touched a drop of wine, yet the king spoke as if drunk. The hem of his royal robes twisted in his fist as he swayed, ready to collapse. Arkin caught him and guided him to his chambers. In the dark corridor, the king spoke again.__
“My son, believe me. The oracle you received is flawless.”__
“I know, Father.”__
“The nightmares too. They are nothing more than the weight of duty pressing down on you. I felt the same in my youth.”__
“…Yes.”__
“The herb as well. Forget about Necromansia. There are other ways. All that talk of forbidden herbs is nonsense. They themselves use it in secret.”__
Arkin lowered his gaze. That was a difficult truth, yet he had no other choice.__
He spent the night staring at the ceiling until dawn, then rose and headed for the shrine.