The air was cold, far too cold for a day like today. Winter was still some months away, but with the death of Iliad's monarch, the land reacted in kind. Snow had begun to fall for some time now. It was the kind of day one would be spending indoors, not outside. And yet there were people outside, millions of them at that. The funeral for king Barranagan brought many from far and wide within Iliad. The death day, becoming a pilgrimage for many. A kind of holiness to prove their devotion to the king. To witness the laying to rest of a monarch, a Stygian one at that, was one of the rarest honors one could experience. Even some of the most reclusive of Stygians ventured forth to see his final rites read. That was the power that Barranagan Xerxes commanded. All wished to be within his presence. The beast of Aurum was unrivaled in life and now in death. But for as much as he was beloved by the people and his kin, there were those who were repulsed by his savagery. Such a day often brought all those of house Xerxes together. But today was not that day. The deep scars left by the dead king still ached greatly, and some would never heal.

  When Cirella and her children stepped outside of the castle, they were greeted with a sight they had never once seen before. An outcry of support by the millions of humans who had come from across Iliad to pay their respects. The city itself, Akkad, could barely contain the bustling crowds it normally had but now people were gathered making their way up towards the hill behind the city where the funeral would take place. In that moment Cirella understood the magnitude of the occasion and just what her husband's father meant to the humans of Iliad. She had heard many stories about King Barranagan from her own father. Admittedly, she scarcely believed them even if they were recorded by the Akashics, for she could not believe one mortal, even a Stygian at that, could be that powerful. That one man could be able to change the course of history on his own, such a man would be considered a god. And yet when she met King Barranagan for the first time, she was unimpressed. He bore a very docile appearance, and seemed to barely be alive. Even back then she believed he would die at any moment. But for some reason, seeing the broken man in front of her, she was captivated by his eyes. His eyes told a different story, and for the first time, a part of her believed those stories to be true. And yet in front of her stood millions, many never having laid eyes on the monarch and yet as devout as one can be. She looked upon the crowd, and warmth began to permeate throughout her body. The power of the crown was truly something to desire, and in that moment Cirella felt envy for the first time in her life.

  "Are they all here for grandsire?" asked Loukas, looking up at his mother.

  His question startled Cirella, and admittedly she felt embarrassed. She looked at her son and gave him a smile. His innocent nature was something she was always curious about. Rather the curious nature of all children. Being as young as he was, he did not understand the gravity of the whole situation. His wide-eyed expression was admirable; always darting around and taking in the world. The soft orange, violet and blue that danced around his eyes glowed a soft hue when was fascinated by something, his reaction to the crowd was very much like Cirella's.

  "Yes my dear," Cirella responded motioning them along the path.

  "Will this many people come to my funeral too?" Loukas asked.

  Cirella paused, trying to find an adequate response.

  "Do not... Ask such questions... Loukas now is... not the time," interjected Samara chastising her brother.

  "Sorry," Loukas said lowering his head.

  Cirella laughed slightly and patted her son on his head.

  "Oh it is alright little one, you will be even bigger than your grandfather. Many will come to your funeral, but it will not be for centuries," Cirella added with a smile.

  Loukas was not quite sure what a century was, but he seemed to be satisfied with his mothers answer and returned her smile. Samara gave a look very reminiscent of her mother when she would rather not argue and kept on walking. Their walk to the funeral was some ways away. As large as Akkad looked from a distance, it was even larger. Castle Xerxes towered throughout the land but because of its location and construction, it made it difficult to get anywhere unless one wished to head into the lower city below. King Barranagan wished to have his funeral on a hill to the west of Akkad and the Castle to where the sun sets. The location was nothing special, in fact to Cirella's knowledge, it had no historical value to the royal family. Almost all royal family funerals were held much farther north, in the great city of Uruk, the oldest city in all of Aurum beyond the mountains. It was a difficult location to reach for humans, as the weather and the path through the frost forest were not easy to traverse, but for Stygians it was much easier. She believed perhaps there would be two funerals, a symbolic one here and the true one farther north. No doubt this was one of Antares plans to show the people that he cared about them.

  On their walk to the hill, both sides were adorned with various trees, many of them from far away lands throughout Aurum and even further. Naturally none of them would survive in this climate but because of magic coursing through the soil in this location, they were all in full bloom. The snow covering the flowers and various leaves bounced light off them, giving the flora a magical appearance. One would be forgiven thinking this was the path to a winter wonderland and not one to a funeral. In front of her, her children played with the snow as they walked. She wanted to stop them, lest they get themselves dirty before they arrived. But she did not think it would be too bad to let the children be children for a bit.

  "What a lovely sight, isn't it? Shame it has to be on such a day, right M'lady?"

  Cirella was startled as the man appeared next to her. She could not conceal the surprise on her face, so much so her children turned to her.

  "It is alright children, go on ahead. I will be there soon," she said wearily. She gave a look to the servant and she hurried the children along.

  She recomposed herself and gave a look to her right, matching her stride was a man she utterly despised. A man whose entire existence revolved around feeding off those in power. She had wondered where he was for a time. Thinking that he must have already been at the funeral to have him lurk around here especially near her children made her skin crawl. Try as the man might to conceal himself in the softest of silk and adorned the finest of garments, he could not hide what he was. His greasy hair was pulled back showing his facial features. His skin had a pinkish hue to it and when he smiled his crooked teeth did nothing but make Cirella's stomach turn. He moved close to her and she could feel his breath on her cheek. She shuddered.

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  "Good day my lady," the man said, bowing low.

  "What is it you want, Rodrick?" Cirella scowled.

  "You look lovely, death suits you." Rodrick ignored her question.

  From the day Cirella Xerxes met Rodrick Rokbane, she regretted it. A vulture she would never be able to rid herself of. He circled her and her family and picked at the bones of those who threatened them. Some would say despite her feelings towards Lord Bane, he was her greatest ally and supporter. As the royal family was divided, so were many houses throughout Iliad. House Rokbane was no exception. As the years carried on, factions began to form throughout the many great houses. With Antares' exile, those divisions ran deeper. One such curious division was that of house Bane who for much of recorded history had always supported the unification of Aurum under house Xerxes, but in recent history, specifically with Rodrick Rokbane, such a goal had been shifted. None more shocked than Cirella when she was approached by Rodrick stating he did not share the same values as his brothers Titus and Kenneth Rokbane, who had long been vocal supporters of Antares. Instead he wished to support Daimion. His reasoning being he believed Daimion would put Iliad before any such ludicrous notions of uniting the entirety of Aurum. She was hesitant, she had heard the rumors of the kind of man Rodrick was. But despite all the insults, the depraved things he made people do for money, or the people he surrounded himself with, at the end of every discussion Cirella had with anyone who knew Rodrick, they said he was the smartest man they knew.

  His influence in the courts could not be understated nor was his influence in helping Daimion reach where he was. And yet Cirella felt sickened at what lengths she had to go to conspire with him, a man she would rather never speak to again. Rodrick's goals were simple, he quickly stated them to her when they first met. He had no intention of trying to be perceived as nothing else but what he was after, but she knew if he ever achieved his goal, it would quicken the fall of house Xerxes.

  "Do not make me repeat myself," Cirella demanded, with weight behind her words.

  Rodrick chuckled.

  "I only wish to walk with you my lady, is that so much to ask?" he asked with a grin.

  "Your presence is not welcomed here, we grieve the loss of our king," Cirella responded.

  Rodrick feigned grief.

  "Ah... yes that, truly a loss for Iliad. Whatever shall we do?"

  "Show some respect. Lord Rokbane."

  "I have done so. I was there you know, when it was first announced he was dying. And I am going to go pay respects now. Surely that allows me some reprieve to talk freely?"

  "Do not forget your place," Cirella said scolding him. "Now speak why you are truly here."

  A moment passed, as they walked in silence and allowed the soft rumblings of the crowd to fill the air. Cirella had quickened her pace, they were nearing the end of their journey and she had hoped to reach the hill as soon as possible. Being seen with Lord Rodrick always spread rumors and gossip throughout the courts. Now was not the time for such tales.

  "Your husband's lord brother is a curious one, do you not agree?" Rodrick asked.

  Cirella noticed the slight on her husband, "My husband is a lord too. Do not forget that." She gave him a wicked look, "Why do you mention him?" Cirella asked sharply.

  "Having gone through the things he has gone through, and yet still return?" Rodrick wondered. "Publicly humiliated and rightfully exiled for his crimes. And yet welcomed back. I certainly had no idea, I am sure you did of course."

  "What is it, are you implying?"

  "Nothing of course, it would be foolish of me to imply anything. I was just wondering... It all seems convenient that is all," concluded Rodrick.

  "What is?" Cirella asked.

  "Everything about the prince's exile and his return. I feel as though someone should perhaps look into it." Rodrick rubbed his chin.

  "And why is it you are bringing this to me and not to my husband?" Cirella demanded.

  "You mean the previous heir? And well that is obvious, he is not one to appreciate the finer details. Such as yourself, perhaps you can open his eyes to these inconsistencies," he finished.

  Although she would never admit it, there was some truth to what he had said. Everything that has happened seemed wrong to Cirella. The crimes in which Antares committed along with his exile. He had shown no remorse or guilt over his actions since, and yet he was permitted to return. It would have been understandable had it been simply to attend the funeral as the king's oldest living son. But to revoke the exile and announce him his heir once more? To Cirella that was a step too far even for the great King. There was no way this was going to be accepted by the majority and none more than the very elders who had come to make Daimion king. She felt like she was dancing to the whims of a mad king like everyone else and it bothered her. Everything about Antares bothered her, what exactly would be his goal. To rule people who hate you? Who would accept such a position? Her thoughts began to race and concern came across her and from the corner of her eye she could see Rodrick staring at her intensely. She tried her best to steal her emotions. She would not allow him to see her rattled. Off in the distance, she could see her children beckoning her. She stopped looking straight ahead.

  "Look into this matter further, and tell me what you find," Cirella said.

  Rodrick bowed.

  "As you command my queen," said Rodrick.

  My queen, she thought to herself as she left him there. Hearing him say it made her angry, the tone in which he said it implied many things, and none of them were pleasant. She had been aware of Rodrick's obsession with her, but she purposely ignored it. Better to use him than discard him, she thought. She and Daimion did not have many allies, and with that comes unwanted challenges from different sides. She would continue to use Rodrick as long as he was useful, but the moment that stopped being a reality she would gladly dispose of him. As she walked up the path grabbing the hands of both her children, they walked up towards the large hill, at the top they would hold the funeral and perhaps Cirella thought, this day may finally end once and for all.