Ludric heaved weak and shallow breaths. He laid on the barren, wrecked ground bleeding all over with one leg missing. Gripped in one hand was the archdemon's decapitated head while the other has lost its strength to keep half of his sword. The light of dusk in the sky became red from the layer of blood covering his eyes.

Around him, the rest of the heroes weren't in a better condition. Their eyes were all closed, unknown whether they were merely unconscious or something worse. A chunk of Rock's abdomen was gone, one side of Marissa's arm was charred, Desmund's shield has shattered to pieces, Rosetta's staff was broken, and Ash's body was still smoking from the last attack he received.

Thanks to Adnadan and the heroes, the demons failed to take over the elven kingdom. But the casualty was too heavy to be called a victory. The survivors of the battle couldn't bring themselves to celebrate. Right now, there was nothing but despair in their heart as they witnessed their king on his death bed.

Aerindel, Freanor, and Eshril knelt next to their dying father and master lying on the makeshift bed of moss and flowers. Crow stood to watch the somber scene from the shadows. He was also there when the demonic lightning struck down the elven king since he couldn't find Rye anywhere. Normally, one would instantly die from an attack of that caliber. Though Adnadan managed to preserve his life, even the most skillful healer wouldn't be able to fix him.

"Eshril," Adnadan called with an almost non-existent voice.

"Yes, Your Majesty," Eshril's fists tightened, but he still answered in a level voice.

"What happened to the royal council members?"

"They have passed in the battle, Your Majesty."

"I see…" Adnadan faintly sighed and turned to Aerindel, "my son, take good care of your sister and your people. Remember your nobility and dignity but never forget this debt we owe to the heroes."

"Yes, Father," Aerindel lowered his head to let Adnadan pat his head like what he used to do when he was little.

"Your mother would be very proud of both of you. Thank you for willing to be my children and accept this burdensome role," Adnadan touched both Freanor's and Aerindel's cheeks.

"Father–" Freanor choked and couldn't stop her tears anymore, "Father, please don't leave us."

"Frea…" Aerindel hugged his sister, "don't make it harder for Father to leave."

Adnadan smiled and slowly closed his eyes with a mutter, "You both have grown strong. I believe you will do fine even without me."

When he breathed his last, Freanor buried herself into her brother's arms with a heart-wrenching cry. Eshril shut his eyes overflowing with grief tightly. The elves broke into sobs and bowed down to their king one last time. The fairies lit up their wings as a sign of respect for the deceased king.

At the center of the elven kingdom, Rye turned around to find Adnadan's spirit forming in front of the tree. Adnadan's eyes fluttered open and fell on Rye's saddened face.

"Your Majesty," Rye bowed.

Adnadan chuckled, "Are you here to escort me, Rye?"

Rye shook his head regretfully, "I am here bearing…a grave truth for you."

"It is alright. What is it?"

"Lord Muriel…he is gone. I am afraid you will not be able to meet him," Rye said with a heavy heart, "I just do not wish for you to despair after it is too late."

"…" Adnadan gazed up at the withered tree in gloom, "will I not see him for eternity?"

Rye couldn't voice the answer out of his mouth.

"…Then, may I ask for a favor to Lord Solistus?"

–––

–

­Light dragged the last of the heroes to the lineup. He walked back to Ludric, the first one, and restored him all he could. When he was reaching the last one, he sensed something and looked back.

"Thank you for your help, Light," Rye arrived next to him.

"The Lord's order is our will."

Rye knelt down and touched the last cold body, "…"

"It is his time."

"…I understand,” Rye took out the heart of the Desert Worm from his spatial storage, “but we can still do something about Ludric’s leg.”

The two of them stayed in silence, each with their own thoughts, as Rye regrew Ludric’s leg. Not long after, soft, white particles entered their vision from above. Looking up, they saw the withered Light Tree was washed over with the luminous color of white and silver from root to crown. The particles fallen over them were the light orbs emitted by the tree, mourning the brave souls who were claimed back by the world.

Remembering Adnadan's request, Rye couldn't admire him more. Even in his death, he still dedicated himself to his people and his love for Lord Muriel.

Seeing the Light Tree revived back to life, the elves immediately went to check. In addition to their light returning, they could feel their king's aura inside them just like when he shared his light at the battle earlier. It didn't take long for everyone to agree that their king's body should be buried next to the Light Tree.

With Light and Crow's help, Rye moved Ludric and the others to a proper room to recover. He carried the last one by himself towards the shore of the land nearby the Light Tree. Seeing his arrival, the elves slowly stepped aside to open a path for him.

"Rye," Aerindel noticed Rye's arrival. His face fell seeing the body Rye carried, "he…"

"Please arrange a proper coffin for him," Rye gently put the body down.

Aerindel heavily nodded. He stared at Rye for a while but eventually couldn't stop himself from asking, "Where were you, Rye? From your eyes, I can tell you know what has just transpired here. With your strength, the outcome of this battle could've been different."

"I apologize. I cannot delve regarding that matter."

Freanor couldn't accept that answer, "Why? Why can't you? You said that you would help us–"

"Your Highness," Eshril intervened, "I am aware that we are all not in our greatest state, but even if you are close with Saint Rye, you are being rude to him. We are also in mourning. Please mind your manners."

"Eshril…?" Freanor didn't think Eshril, their father's most loyal subject, would defend Rye instead of siding with them.

"Eshril, Rye is not literally a saint. He only has a ridiculous amount of light energy."

Eshril didn't intend to explain it to anyone and dropped the topic, "Let us not disrespect the spirits by making them wait for their burial."

After everything was finished and everyone returned to their home and family, for those who were fortunate enough to still have them, Rye stayed at the shore. He silently watched the tree in front of him with an unknown mood.

"Lord Rye, you are still here." Eshril came from the side.

Rye nodded politely at him, "If you do not mind, I still wish to stay a little bit longer."

"Please, do not lower yourself to me. His Majesty enjoys your company."

The two of them stood there each with their own thoughts. The delicate white leaves rustled above them as the wind swept past. The droplets of light has finished raining down once the funeral was over. The tranquility of the scene almost seemed fake after the battle that has just happened.

Eshril opened his mouth, "Once, a long time ago, His Majesty also went through a trial."

Rye turned his head to Eshril from his word.

"His Majesty has never engaged in a relationship aside with Lord Muriel," Eshril continued, "Prince Aerindel and Princess Freanor are the children of His Majesty's late aunt. The royal family is in a tense state when His Majesty's late father, the previous king, has just passed and many things happened.

"At that time, the custom was that a crown prince must be wed to inherit the throne. But since his heart and body have already belonged to Lord Muriel, he refused to accept anyone and even rejected the throne, saying that he choose to become a priest instead. More and more people fell to their death the longer the throne was masterless. Yet, he did not relent. Except for me, nobody knows the reason for his stubbornness."

Eshril looked at Rye, "I believe that you have your reason, Lord Rye. Whether it is for love or something else it does not matter. I am certain you are not the kind of person who take choices you will regret. Just like His Majesty."

Rye was stunned in place. He fell silent for a long while before letting out a faint smile, "Thank you, Sir Eshril."

"Please, just call me Eshril," Eshril lowered his head, "I apologize for Prince Aerindel and Princess Freanor's words towards you earlier."

Rye quickly urged Eshril to raise his head back, "No, it is only understandable."

"Although it is not the outcome we planned, you brought back our light and revived the Light Tree. Let me escort you to your reward."