The City of Jupiter was the only Platinum Class Settlement on the Muspelheim Continent.

That fact was, unfortunately, quite significant.

The Prince knew it well, for when one compared this to the seven Platinum Class Settlements in Midgard, and the five still active in Alfheim, it was clear they were several steps behind.

Nevermind then the thirteen cities that made up the superpower known as Abel in Asgard or the Immortal Clan’s remaining Nine Branches he'd learned were lurking in Svartalfheim's darkest depths.

Those two existences were rule breakers in that, through their own methods, both had whole kingdoms of Platinum Class beings dwelling under their care.

Cain's Art of Manifestation that pulled in Ash until one's vessel was full, and the Immortal's very nature by definition of what the word meant resulted in neither of those powers even put the others in their eyes.

The Centurion Kingdom was therefore by and large considered the weakest of the world's superpowers and the fastest in decline.

Nonetheless, Jupiter, its capital, was still a welcome sight for Erus as he crossed the outer moat and walked beyond the outermost checkpoints to step into the vast farmland that made up the Bronze District of the capital he called home.

Said district was best described as a massive town that surrounded the city’s towering outer walls.

They owned the farmland all around, and they were defended by the moats and patrols.

Beasts were more troublesome here than bandits, of course, and there wasn't really much trade to speak of so the latter didn't have much cause to bother.

He soon stepped beyond those great white walls and walked into the Silver District.

Here, the buildings were more uniform, the spaces mere tightly packed.

One could get lost easily if they tried to navigate the residential quarters all around, but he did not need to do so.

His destination was standing at the very back of this district.

He marched with his men upon the elevated stone steps into a high towering platform built upon a titanic hilltop.

That then was the Gold District, there the nobles built their mansions and grew fat on the taxes levied on the poorer men below.

Everyone here lived comfortable lives, in truth, a bit too much so.

The Prince then set his sights upon the even higher peak, where a Palace stood high above all.

That place then was both the city’s Platinum District as well as the crown of the Centurion Kingdom; the Sovereign and his family were chief among the denizens there.

They called it the Platinum Palace for this distinguished reason.

The Prince breathed, he took in the air of the home he had not seen for many moons.

The men behind him were silent, for they knew what was on his mind.

Those who were most in the know were those who had children, which was near enough all of them.

Erus was older than some of them by a number of years, yet he had never had a child before.

This was not due to the mortality of lives in this tragic world but purely because of the man’s busy and somewhat tragic life.

He met his wife at the relatively speaking 'late' age of twenty two, which was a good four years ago by now.

He had been blessed with many suitors, of course, but had soundly rejected the lot of them for one reason or another.

Perhaps if they had known of the curse that ails his bloodline, then they would know the reason for his hesitation.

Alas few men, if any, were privy to that most deadly secret, the blight of the royal bloodline.

The Silver and Gold Districts had been passed so quickly that Erus did not even notice the people kneeling, nor did he care to register the sight of his men embracing their wives as they returned to their homes.

Hence it was that by now he walked almost alone up the stairway into the palace so few could treat.

He made his way into the royal halls.

_________________________________________

For two full centuries this palace had stood tall, and now it welcomed a new generation once again.

Erus sought his child, the heir to the throne who would lead the kingdom after him.

He passed the kneeling servants and standing soldiers, until he came upon a thin, long hallway.

Glass, a rare commodity, lined the left side wall, hence granting a glimpse at what lay beyond.

Erus stopped and looked in silence as his palm came to rest upon that window.

The room on the other side was nearly bare.

His wife, Sibyl of Neptune, was laying in a bed and their newly born child, Regis, was laying in the small cot at her side.

The Prince’s heart was heavy, his mind lost in thought as he peered upon the slumbering child.

Right now he didn’t care what Mourn’s, Cain’s or even Nidhogg’s next move would be, his whole world was swallowed up by that small baby sleeping peacefully at his wife's bedside.

Nobody could say for sure how long he stood in that spot staring at that scene, not even himself.

He took his palm away from the glass in silence.

This was his family, not the family started by his mother and father, but his own, his family, started by him.

His emotions absorbed him completely, and then the sound of heavy footsteps woke him from his trance.

His gaze turned to behold a wizened figure clad in golden shroud and crimson robes, his grandfather, the Sovereign, Julius of Jupiter.

The Prince stood in silence, eyes facing that wizened figure.

The old Sovereign walked forward, he came to stand beside his grandson and then he too looked into the room beyond the glass walls.

All things fell silent for a time, as the usually bitter monarch embraced an uncharacteristically solemn mood.

“A healthy new prince is born,” Julius said with an air of tiredness and age.

Erus kept his council and observed the wizened elder.

The Sovereign did not seem to be faking his mood, even if it was oddly out of his regular character.

“Regis, was it?...I see you share your father’s naming sense,” The Sovereign griped, and then he heaved a tired sigh, a lament for his long dead son's tragically short life.

Erus was baffled, for within his memories his grandfather had always been a cold and cruel man, to the point of even being irrational in point of fact.

There was no denying after that it was Julius’ undue actions throughout the last twenty years or so that had garnered the contempt and rage of their many subordinate cities.

Each Gold Class City especially represented its own state of sorts, and Julius had few friends among them, if any at all, still alive at this point in time.

One could very much argue that their current situation was almost exclusively the fault of this man, yet more shocking than even this was the fact that the Sovereign had not spoken of his son, of Erus’ father, Drakus, for so many, many more years that the act of him doing so outright startled his grandchild.

The prince was left at a loss, and then he found himself asking, without even thinking,

“Was he that bad?” Erus immediately felt doubtful of himself.

Since when had he been able to talk like this with this man? Why did those words come out so naturally?

“He was indeed that bad,” The Sovereign said as he opened his eyes, “He named you Erus and your twin sister Era because those names mean “lord” and “lady” respectively...very imaginative, no?”

Erus had no idea what to even say.

This was the first time in a long time he’d heard his twin’s name spoken aloud.

Never since all records of her existence had been burnt and all witnesses had been silenced through one method or another had anybody, even he himself spoken her name at all; it had been a very, very long time.

There was no way that Julius chose to broach the matter purely out of coincidence either.

The Prince’s heart hardened anew as the sovereign’s expression remained solemn.

“His wife said it was part of his charm really. “I’ve found cleverer men digging through sacks of hammers but I have never found better men” she used to say...she was a fine woman, sensible and strict, the exact opposite of that child.”

The Sovereign faced his newly born great-grandson and then for the first time in so many years, he smiled just slightly with a sense of genuine contentment.

“Erus,” He said, and then, as if to explain his suddenly whimsical behaviour, he confessed, “My lifespan...is at an end.”

The Prince frowned, then glanced towards his Sovereign.

He wasn’t sure how it had been done, all he knew was that his grandfather had lived this long thanks to some unknown, perhaps unscrupulous, means.

Platinum Class beings like them should not live past forty very often, after all, and yet Erus knew that his grandfather was near enough twice that age.

This was equivalent to a normal human being living for one hundred sixty years or more, it was simply impossible to do by any normal means.

However all things, whether good and bad, apparently still come to an end in time.

Erus felt the atmosphere grow colder as his grandfather stared quietly into the room.

He could not help but ponder over what might be coming next.

Indeed, Erus was right to fret about it, because just as he feared the fact that Julius had brought up Era’s name was no mere coincidence.

“Aden has been asking about your twin sister in spite of my warnings to shut up...and it’s happening now with more and more frequency...I suspect the obsession might be maddening him,” Said the Sovereign.

Erus felt a tinge of pain in his chest.

The only person who flat out refused to fall silent about Era’s existence was her husband yet he had not been punished.

Erus refused to do anything beyond warning the man time and time again, despite the fact that Julius kept threatening to execute him if things carried on this way.

Looking back on it, Aden’s survival until today was more than a little bit due to Erus’ sense of guilt, their past friendship and also his feelings of obligation.

“Should I go and talk to him?” The Prince asked, but Julius merely shook his aged head in turn.

“Nidhogg shall be invading soon, you have more pressing concerns than him.”

Erus could not refute that, he was well aware that the argument made sense.

Cain had destroyed Venus and left the nation vulnerable to invasion.

Those insurgents might not work for the Empire overseas, but they definitely opened the door for them.

Even so, he was reluctant to leave this place where his wife and son did lay so quickly as he came.

“My child’s just been born and I’m already being sent away?” He scowled towards his liege, his grandfather.

“The life of a Prince is one of duty, don’t worry your family will still be here when you get back,” Said the Sovereign, “You have my word.”

Erus fell silent. He took one last look at his wife and new born child before he resigned himself and turned to leave the way he came.

‘Your word has been proven of little value before,’ He mused to himself in silence.

Indeed The Prince did not believe his grandfather’s promises even a little bit, and no man who was familiar with Julius would think otherwise on that matter.

Yet he had to go, he had to fight, this wasn’t something that the heir of the nation could avoid.

____________________________________________

The Prince marched on through the waiting halls.

Memories of paintings stripped bare from the walls wrought an image in his mind.

He closed his eyes and remembered her.

His sister, Princess Era of Jupiter.

That fateful day he opened his eyes, awoke from what should’ve been fatal wounds to find her staring back at him from his bedside.

Her smile seemed so familiar and yet also very, very alien.

‘It wasn’t her,’ He understood that something wasn’t right from the moment he looked into her eyes.

Every instinct in his being started screaming at him.

‘That...thing...wasn’t her.’

There was a reason the Sovereign had worked so hard to bury everything to do with Era, indeed he knew it to be a very good reason too.

The girl had touched upon a forbidden truth, a truth that had consumed countless men and women of Jupiter's line long before their generation had even come to be, a truth that may well continue to consume countless more lives for generations yet to come.

Even to this very day Erus still didn’t know the full truth of it, he only understood the truth was something only a Sovereign was fit to know.

His gaze turned skyward, he lifted up his sleeve to look upon the silver markings that now adorned his wrist.

Just like Lucretia’s, these were markings made from the sap of the sacred trees growing in the garden behind the palace walls, they were the source of Jupiter’s power.

Bearing these brands let them conquer the continent two hundred years ago, but like all things that power came with a price.

From his sister’s fate he had seen that price play out, for she bore these marks that night.

They weren’t the impure black or “pure” but empty silver, but rather a radiant gold.

He had never been brave enough to bear these markings himself until now, until he was forced to retreat from Mourn in Mercury City, until he had a child of his own, he never had sufficient cause.

He closed his eyes and pondered the war that was to come.

He had no confidence to say for certain that he could defeat Sigurd, who had bested even his father.

Perhaps he too would have to do what Era did and risk it all by invoking the power of that forbidden truth he knew nothing about?

Perhaps he too would share the fate of his forebears to protect his country and, more importantly, his wife and child.

He looked upon the murals held high upon the walls and pondered over the choice that had haunted him, and all generations before him, from the day they learned the truth till now.

All power has a price, and there is no corner of this world not touched by the Gods in some way, shape or form.

Not even Jupiter, the capital of the world's most humble superpower.