The Last Silver

The battlefield disappeared.

Dinraal opened his eyes.

He stood in the ancient chamber again.

No one spoke.

His heart hammered.

"No."

The word escaped him before he could stop it.

Gilgamesh looked at him.

Dinraal shook his head.

"No."

The memory returned.

Aurelius stared at Bahamut.

For several seconds, he did not move.

Then—

"No."

Bahamut smiled faintly.

"I expected that."

"You are asking me to murder you."

"No."

Aurelius's eyes flashed.

"Do not play games with words."

"I am asking you to defeat me."

"Bahamut."

"Publicly."

Aurelius went silent.

Bahamut continued.

"The Empire needs to see it."

Aurelius stared at him.

Dinraal felt Isolde's hand tighten around his.

Bahamut turned toward the battlefield.

"If I die in my bed, the Empire fractures."

Aurelius said nothing.

"If I name Dinraal my heir, the Empire fractures."

Still nothing.

"If I name anyone else, the Empire fractures."

Aurelius's jaw tightened.

Bahamut looked back at him.

"But if I fall to you—"

"No."

"Listen."

"I am listening."

"No, you're angry."

"I am angry."

"Good."

Bahamut stepped closer.

"Then be angry enough to do what I can't."

Aurelius looked at him as though he had become a stranger.

"You want me to take the throne."

Bahamut nodded.

"You have the army."

"You have the blood."

"I have a dying body."

"You could name a successor."

"And start a war between every faction that believes it deserves the Empire."

Aurelius looked away.

Bahamut's voice lowered.

"Someone has to take the blame."

Dinraal froze.

Aurelius understood.

"No."

Bahamut smiled sadly.

"Yes."

"You want history to hate me."

"I want history to believe you killed me."

Aurelius stared at him.

"Why?"

Bahamut looked down.

"For Dinraal."

The wind stopped.

Aurelius's expression changed.

Dinraal's heart hurt.

Bahamut continued.

"If I die to illness, everyone asks who gets the crown."

Aurelius remained silent.

"If you kill me, the question changes."

Bahamut's eyes hardened.

"Can Aurelius hold the Empire together?"

Dinraal understood.

The succession crisis would disappear beneath a greater conflict.

The Empire would unite—

or at least temporarily—

behind survival.

Aurelius spoke quietly.

"And Dinraal?"

Bahamut looked at him.

"You take him."

Dinraal stopped breathing.

Aurelius stared.

"What?"

"You heard me."

"You're asking me to raise your son?"

"I am asking you to keep him alive."

Aurelius's face changed.

"What about Tiamat?"

Bahamut closed his eyes.

"She will protect him if she can."

"And if she can't?"

Bahamut opened his eyes.

"Then you will."

Aurelius laughed bitterly.

"You have a remarkable amount of faith in me."

Bahamut smiled.

Aurelius stared.

Bahamut's smile widened.

Dinraal almost laughed.

Almost.

Then Bahamut's expression became serious.

"You have a daughter."

Aurelius froze.

"Isolde."

His voice was quieter now.

"Yes."

Bahamut looked toward the sky.

"I have watched you with her."

Aurelius said nothing.

"You love her."

Aurelius's jaw tightened.

"Yes."

Bahamut looked at him again.

"Then you understand."

The silence that followed was heavier than the battlefield.

Aurelius looked away.

Finally—

"What exactly are you asking?"

Bahamut answered immediately.

"Claim him."

Dinraal's breath caught.

Aurelius frowned.

"What?"

"When I'm gone, Dinraal cannot be Bahamut's son."

Bahamut's voice hardened.

"Not publicly."

Aurelius stared at him.

"That's impossible."

"No."

"Half the Empire knows what he looks like."

"Then change what they see."

Dinraal touched his black hair.

The memory continued.

Aurelius slowly looked toward Bahamut.

"His hair."

Bahamut nodded.

"Silver will make him a target."

Dinraal went still.

Aurelius's expression darkened.

"You want me to hide him."

"I want you to give him a different life."

Bahamut looked toward the horizon.

"He cannot grow up as the heir to a dead Emperor."

Aurelius stared.

"So you want me to tell everyone he's mine."

"Yes."

Aurelius laughed once.

A bitter sound.

"Do you have any idea what that will do?"

"Yes."

"Isolde will know."

"Yes."

"She will hate me if I lie to her."

Bahamut's expression softened.

"Then don't lie to her."

Aurelius stared.

"What?"

"Tell her enough."

"Enough?"

"Tell her Dinraal is her brother."

Dinraal froze.

Bahamut continued.

"Not by blood."

Aurelius looked horrified.

"Do you know how difficult that explanation would be?"

Bahamut actually smiled.

"You're Chancellor."

"That does not make me a magician."

"Could have fooled me."

Aurelius stepped closer.

His anger returned.

"You are dying."

"Yes."

"And you are standing here making jokes."

Bahamut's smile disappeared.

"I have to."

Aurelius stopped.

For the first time—

Dinraal saw it.

Fear.

Not Bahamut's.

Aurelius's.

The Chancellor looked at the dying Emperor.

And Dinraal realized something he had never considered.

Aurelius had cared about Bahamut.

Not as a servant.

Not as a rival.

Not simply as an ally.

As a friend.

A complicated one.

Perhaps.

But a friend.

Aurelius's voice became quiet.

"I don't want to kill you."

Bahamut looked at him.

"I know."

"I don't want your throne."

"I know."

"I don't want your son."

Bahamut smiled faintly.

"That is unfortunate."

Aurelius's face twisted.

"Damn you."

Bahamut nodded.

"Frequently."

Then he stepped closer.

"Promise me."

Aurelius said nothing.

"Promise me that when I'm gone, Dinraal will not be a weapon."

The wind moved between them.

"Promise me you won't raise him to avenge me."

Aurelius's expression changed.

Dinraal felt his throat tighten.

Bahamut continued.

"Promise me you will let him hate you if he needs to."

Aurelius stared at him.

"But keep him alive."

Silence.

Then—

Aurelius spoke.

"I swear it."

Bahamut closed his eyes.

For a moment—

he looked relieved.

"Good."

Aurelius looked toward him.

"And his hair?"

Bahamut opened his eyes.

"What about it?"

"You said we change what they see."

Bahamut nodded.

"The silver must disappear. The horns must be hidden."

Aurelius frowned.

"Can you do that?"

Bahamut smiled.

"No."

The memory shifted.

Eve appeared.

Silver-haired.

Ancient.

Terrible.

Dinraal stared.

She looked at Bahamut.

Then at Aurelius.

"You finally told him."

Aurelius turned.

"You knew?"

Eve smiled faintly.

"Of course."

Aurelius looked toward Bahamut.

"Does everyone know everything except me?"

Gilgamesh's voice came from somewhere beyond the memory.

"Yes."

Aurelius looked toward the empty air.

"I hate all of you."

Bahamut laughed.

Then coughed.

Blood touched the ground.

No one laughed after that.

Eve stepped toward Dinraal's father.

"Sit."

Bahamut looked offended.

"I am Emperor."

"You are bleeding on the grass."

Bahamut sat.

Aurelius stared at Eve.

"Can you change his hair?"

Eve looked at him.

"Why?"

Aurelius looked toward Bahamut.

Then at Dinraal.

"Because the boy cannot survive as Bahamut's son."

Eve became quiet.

Then she looked toward Bahamut.

"He doesn't have to."

Dinraal frowned.

Eve approached the dying Emperor.

Then placed her hand against his chest.

"His silver is the inheritance."

Aurelius nodded.

"I understand."

"No."

Eve looked toward him.

"You don't."

Silver light appeared.

Dinraal felt it move through the memory.

Through time.

Into him.

Eve spoke.

"The color is not his blood."

Dinraal stopped.

"It is what he carries."

Aurelius frowned.

"Then remove it."

Eve's expression hardened.

"I will not remove any part of him."

Bahamut looked toward her.

"Eve."

She ignored him.

Aurelius's voice became sharp.

"Then he will die."

Eve stopped.

Silence.

Dinraal felt something strange.

The memory was changing.

He was inside again.

Warm.

Dark.

But older.

A child.

Sleeping.

Silver surrounded him.

Then—

Eve's voice.

Little one.

Dinraal moved.

You cannot carry every part of yourself openly.

The silver tightened.

Not yet.

Something touched him.

Not painfully.

Gently.

A choice.

You will not lose it.

The silver began to disappear.

You will simply hide it.

Darkness moved across the silver.

Black.

His hair changed. His horns shrunk and vanished.

Not because the silver had been taken.

But because it had been protected.

Eve's voice whispered—

When the time comes, you may choose what to reveal.

The memory ended.

Dinraal opened his eyes.

His hand was still in his hair.

Black.

But beneath his fingers—

he could feel silver.

Waiting.

Isolde stared at him.

"So you were never not silver."

Dinraal looked at her.

"No."

Gilgamesh nodded.

"The black hair was a shield."

Dinraal laughed bitterly.

"Apparently everyone in my life has been hiding something about me."

Isolde's expression softened.

"Din."

Before he could answer—

the memory pulled him back.

The Field of Veyr

Years had passed.

Dinraal knew immediately.

Bahamut looked worse.

Far worse.

His armor concealed it.

But Dinraal could see it now.

The trembling.

The shallow breaths.

The way his father favored one side.

Aurelius stood across from him.

Armies surrounded them.

Thousands upon thousands.

Dragons.

Humans.

Soldiers.

The future of the Draec Empire watched.

Dinraal's heart began pounding.

This was it.

The story.

The lie.

Or perhaps—

the truth everyone had misunderstood.

Bahamut raised his sword.

Aurelius did the same.

Neither spoke at first.

The wind moved through the banners.

Then Aurelius said—

"Last chance."

Bahamut smiled.

"You've been saying that for months."

"Because you're stubborn."

"So are you."

Aurelius looked at him.

"If I win, they will call me a traitor."

"If you lose, there will be a civil war."

Aurelius's jaw tightened.

Bahamut's expression softened.

"Then don't lose."

The battle began.

Dinraal watched.

And understood immediately.

It was real.

Aurelius was not pretending.

Bahamut wasn't allowing himself to be killed.

They fought.

Truly fought.

Steel struck steel.

Magic tore the earth.

The battlefield burned.

Because the Empire needed to believe.

A staged death would not have been enough.

They needed witnesses.

They needed certainty.

They needed Bahamut defeated.

But beneath every strike—

there was trust.

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