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Sol climbed the last of the steps and found himself on the top floor of the lighthouse, just beneath the beacon. The floor lacked walls, affording whoever was stationed at the top an unobstructed, 360-degree view. The beacon above was supported by four legs attached to the outer wall of the lighthouse, accessible by a single ladder. There was a smattering of pirates on the top floor, all of whom had turned to look at Sol, whose gaze was locked on a single man, in particular.

He was shorter than Sol, quite a bit older, and thin, as if he hadn’t had regular meals in ages. A white beard, thick and unkempt, reached down his torso, stopping just short of his stomach. Other than his beard, the only hair he had was around the sides of his balding head, equally disheveled.  As he turned, Sol saw that the old man’s eyes were gray and, while they looked tired, Sol could see that a defiant fire still burned in them. What truly drew his gaze, however, was the armor the old man wore. It was worn, rusted and had its fair share of dents and cracks, but despite that and the crudely-drawn scales drawn on the breastplate, Sol recognized not only the armor, but the tarnished medal pinned to the tattered crimson cloak around the old man’s shoulders: a bronze sun pinned to the cloak by a purple ribbon. [color=#A020F0][i]That explains the scales I keep seeing everywhere,[/i][/color] he thought.

The man squinted his eyes, which then widened in shock. “I don’t believe it…” he muttered in disbelief. He looked around as his men readied their weapons and quickly said, “Stand down, men! And leave us. You know not who this man is.”

“Oh, we know very well, captain,” one of the pirates growled. “He’s a Navy bastard who’s here to bring us all in! Sorry, cap, but there’s no way we’re gonna just roll over and let him bring us in!”

Before the old man could stop them, his men charged at a suspiciously relaxed Sol, who slowly walked toward them. With flashing steel, the battle was over faster than it began. To his assailants, it hardly looked like Sol moved, yet in a blink, they were on the ground, wounded and unconscious, but alive. Unbothered, Sol continued walking until he and the old man were standing within ten feet of each other. The Navy captain looked down at the old man and said, [color=#A020F0]”I never would have imagined I would find a Praetor of all people throwing in with pirates.”[/color]

Narrowing his eyes, he added, [color=#A020F0]”Especially one with your straight-as-an-arrow reputation, Praetor Servius.”[/color]

During the height of Nychthemeron rule, praetors would sometimes oversee cohorts of Legion soldiers, acting as interim prefects in times when said prefect was otherwise unable to perform their duties. Most of the time, however, prefects were civil servants, usually presiding over courtroom proceedings as a judge. It was a rank given to older Legion officers who still wished to serve the Empire rather than retire.

“I’m honored that you remember me, after so much time has passed. To explain, desperate circumstances make for strange bedfellows…Your Highness,” Servius replied, meeting Sol’s inscrutable gaze, despite breaking out in a cold sweat. “For instance, while I am overjoyed that our prince still lives, I never would have thought you’d join the very people that brought our Empire to ruin. I had thought Astrum’s son would have more pride than–”

Sol’s eyes briefly flashed orange, but it was enough for Servius to bite his tongue. [color=#A020F0]”Desperate circumstances,”[/color] Sol echoed.

The praetor cleared his throat and said, “A-anyway, Your Highness…Truly, I’m beyond relieved you still live and that you still have your health. In fact, you’ve come at a perfect time!” Servius grinned and stepped toward Sol as he continued, “We could use your help, Your Excellence. You see, everyone here has been wronged by the World Government in some way, shape, or form. We’ve gathered together to exact revenge and Green Isle is just the start! We won’t let anyone stop us until we’ve received justice! And if you joined us, the Empire could even be reborn! We’ve even joined forces with someone who would lend us his forces for when we finally march on Marie Geoise! I have to pay him monthly to retain his crew, but with his power, a new Nychthemeron is just on the horizon!”

Sol was quiet for a moment. In theory, Sol should be overjoyed that he had found someone else that had survived that night, that he should be eager to help rebuild his old home. He took a deep breath…then replied, [color=#A020F0]”No.”[/color]

“Y-Your Highness…?”

[color=#A020F0]”I’ve never had any intention of rebuilding the Empire,”[/color] he quietly said, steadily meeting Servius’ shocked gaze. [color=#A020F0]”The Government targeted us because we had grown too powerful and we weren’t under their control. If the Empire should be rebuilt, we would be crushed before we could even get the palace restored. Thoroughly. A newborn Empire would never be safe until the Government is gone.”[/color]


He walked past the shocked praetor and looked out to the sea. [color=#A020F0]”The only thing I desire is revenge, so your offer is admittedly appealing. But not against the Marines or even the World Government as a whole. Even I, one who has just as much, if not more, reason to hate them as you, understand that there are good people in both groups, people I would rather not have to fight and kill if I can help it.”[/color]

His lieutenant’s face flashed in his mind before he continued, [color=#A020F0]”Instead, I have eyes only for the heads of this hydra: the Five Elder Stars, themselves. And I have no intention of involving anyone else. Unlike you.”[/color] He turned to face Servius and asked, [color=#A020F0]”From the sound of it, you intend on killing all who stand in your way. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that would include those who would undoubtedly rise against you in defense of their homes.”[/color]

Servius was silent for a long time. Long enough for Sol to know he had hit the nail on the head. He sighed and turned to face his former countryman. [color=#A020F0]”Surrender quietly, Praetor Servius,”[/color] he quietly suggested. [color=#A020F0]”It pains me to have to do this, especially since my father would often tell me about how well you served the Empire, but I can’t afford to risk anyone asking questions. If you come quietly, and with the dignity of a Legion officer, I can promise you lenient treatment.”[/color]

Servius looked to the ceiling and sighed, long and deep. ”I appreciate this kindness, Your Highness,” he quietly said, his voice tight with emotion. He then met Sol’s eyes once more and continued, ”But I can’t do that. I was once a high-ranking government official of a dead empire, one who would love nothing more than to see Marie Geoise burn. Should they find that out, your commanders would never risk the chance of me building a resistance from behind bars.” He gestured to his unconscious men and added, ”I was able to gather these men just by sailing from island to island. Could you imagine what I could do with an entire prison, full of people just like these?”

With a chuckle, he added, “Besides. I am an old man. I have no intention of spending my last, precious few years in a prison.” He slowly drew his sword and held it at the ready, facing Sol. “I spent my youth on the battlefield. Despite how I look now, I was once a proud legionnaire. ‘Come quietly’ and ‘surrender’ are not in my vocabulary.” He slowly exhaled and steadied his shaking grip. “I admit…In my desire for vengeance, I had lost sight of myself. I was willing to sacrifice innocent lives, so long as I could achieve my goals…Not only that, but I joined forces with a pirate far more ruthless than I, one that would not let me simply run away while I owed him money.”

He met Sol’s gaze, his own unwavering. “I have faith in your plan. If anyone can bring our home justice, with the least amount of bloodshed, it is you. So, please…do me this kindness, Sol Luminos, Crown Prince of the Nychthemeron Empire, last of his line…and let this old soldier end his story in service of the empire he loves from the bottom of his heart, just as his father and grandfather did before him.”

Sol felt a lump form in his throat. He was more than willing to let the old man escape, but he could tell from the look in the praetor’s eyes that he would truly rather die than spend the last of his days in hiding, that there was no way Sol could convince him otherwise. [color=#A020F0]”Very well,”[/color] Sol said after clearing his throat. He lowered his stance, the tip of his sword aimed at the old man’s chest. [color=#A020F0]”In honor of your loyal service to the Nychthemeron Empire, Praetor Servius, I will grant your wish with the power of our homeland.”[/color]

Servius smiled, tears brimming in his eyes. “Thank you, my prince,” he quietly replied. He breathed deeply to center himself, then charged.

The old praetor moved with speed uncommon for a man his age. His form was perfect, his eyes clear and focused, just like the soldier he claimed to be. However, while he may have been a force to be reckoned with back in his prime, he could not fight the ravages of age. He watched as Sol moved, so much faster than Servius could even when he was young. The young prince sidestepped the old soldier’s vertical strike and drove his sword through the praetor’s chest, the old armor doing nothing to protect him. [color=#A020F0][b]”Way of Lumen: Somber Twilight.”[/b][/color]

Servius let out a quiet sigh. Even throughout his long years, he had rarely ever seen this technique employed and never thought he would be on the receiving end. Just as the rumors he remembered had said, he felt no pain, just an encroaching sense of tiredness. Servius dropped his sword and pulled Sol close, embracing him. “Thank you…Your Highness…” he wheezed as Sol returned the embrace with his free arm. Several moments passed before he said, “B…B-Bacchus…Island…”

The prince’s brow furrowed. He remembered how much his father loved the wine from there, but that was all he could recall about the island. [color=#A020F0]”What about it?”[/color] he asked.

It took Servius several moments to reply as his breathing slowed and it became harder to speak. “That…pirate I mentioned…He’s there…You…h-have to…stop…him…Help those…peo…ple…” As his vision faded, he couldn’t help but smile. Standing before him were not only the family he had lost to time and the Navy’s invasion, but two others stood amongst them: A tall man with short, blonde hair, amber-colored eyes, and an easy smile stood next to a shorter woman, her black hair cascading down her back and over her shoulders, her deep blue eyes glittering as she smiled welcomingly at Servius. “E…Emperor…Aurum…Lady Dawn…Your son…grew up…well…..”

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Twenty minutes later, Lieutenant Nelson rushed to the top floor, breathing heavily. “Of course…You’re up here…Couldn’t have been…the ground floor…Oh, nooo…” she panted, doubled over as Marines began to rush onto the floor. She looked up at Sol to find him staring out at the sea, missing his officer’s coat. She looked around and found it on the ground, stained in blood and covering someone’s body. “Who’s–”

[color=#A020F0]”Tell the men we’re leaving as soon as reinforcements come,”[/color] Sol interrupted. He turned toward his Lieutenant and added, [color=#A020F0]”Call ahead to the ship and have them make preparations. We’re sailing to Bacchus Island.”[/color]