Chapter 54
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A mere finger’s width separated their statures when viewed nearby.
Styles of their locks matched closely, though shades diverged faintly.
Everette pondered how his own strands gleamed true ebony beneath the sun’s glare.
Across from him, the strands carried a subtle azure gleam amid the darkness.
Those irises held an amber tone, shy of solar blaze or untainted aureate.
Startlingly, the likeness to Everette gripped tight enough to muddle perceptions briefly.
The pair, doppelgangers in form, locked stares across open ground, poised like rivals.
Summer’s cloying gusts, laden with moisture, grazed soft against flushed skin.
An odd discomfort stirred within, unbidden and sharp.
Fresh from his encounter with Rina, the authentic Everette pinned his rise to knighthood—despite serf roots and lowly rank—squarely on appearance.
No famed allure fueled his ascent.
Instead, echoes of a legendary authority shaped his path.
Emperor Edwin embodied that force.
The mimicry forged his shadow knight mantle and flung open doors to glory.
Everette grasped his own limits well, fueling grueling efforts through chains of unlikely breaks.
The extended mission stirred no doubts; he prepped his gear without pause.
Absolute loyalty to Edwin prompted ready consent to loan his name temporarily, even sight unseen.
Everette weighed the timeline, figuring Bellot’s escort duty would wrap as leaves turned.
The guide role for Bellot’s envoys sparked visions of a rare hometown detour.
Half a decade had slipped away since fleeing those fields.
The same span since destiny first crossed him with the Emperor.
That pivotal encounter lingered vivid, as if it claimed every ounce of fortune allotted.
Generations prior, imperial might flourished under the old ruler’s watch.
Yet over ten years, rot spread deep.
Borders shrank amid savage clashes with foes nearby.
Eastern and northern blood soaked earth endlessly; lands eroded away.
Doom loomed for the realm entire.
Fate intervened through divine grace.
Fueled by kin’s slaughter, Edwin slew his uncle—the prior sovereign—at tender fifteen.
Youth crowned him, then purges claimed the debauched court that peddled excess.
Nobles quailed before his blade; common hearts kindled with rekindled fire.
Throngs rallied, deeming him salvation over the tyrant past.
Coronation stark and swift, he surged to warfronts.
Chaos lingered post-usurper’s fall, dragging fronts deeper into peril.
Callow in years, Edwin wielded commander’s genius and knight’s fury.
Morale climbed; reversals pierced dispatch gloom.
By seventeenth winter, Sword Master forged, momentum swung decisively.
War-weary souls, crushed by prior cruelties, hailed him as savior.
Victory’s outline sharpened, faint but firm.
Existence ground harsh, yet promise bloomed.
One snag marred the horizon.
Triumphs hinged on Edwin alone—strategist peerless, blade unmatched.
Thus, the crown dueled death’s edge routinely.
Kingdoms’ pact unleashed hell till then.
Fronts sprawled vast; no man spanned all.
Fatigue etched his campaigns.
Coalition struck voids he vacated.
Absent apex tactician and prime warrior, ranks crumbled fast.
Shuttles intensified against thrusts.
Realm affairs starved; whispers bred traps on transit lulls.
Enemy ploys mostly shattered, though slivers pierced.
Everette’s pinnacle dawned that brutal frost when foes drew imperial ichor, even Edwin’s.
Pre-ambush grind had drained Edwin alongside Blue Hawks relentlessly.
Harsh ground compounded the snare.
Assailants vaporized under emperor and elite fury, yet losses stung.
Refuge beckoned in adjacent holdings for mending and scant repose.
Shurak lands cradled Everette’s roots.
Twenty-five then, he patrolled as watchman.
Duty pinned him to crude barriers that fateful shift as the imperial band rolled in.
Retrospect unveiled heaven’s graze upon him.
Elites beyond peasant dreams encircled.
Captain’s dread edict—gaze meant guillotine—quaked him still.
Duty masked stolen peeks at Edwin, Blue Hawks.
Remote specks, thumb-scale, radiated regal poise.
Craving sharper focus burned.
Everette imagined regaling heirs with the tale.
Retreat of the column eased his guard.
Eyes strained bold.
Contact snapped with Kyle amid orders to the baron, post vanguard dispatch.
Paralysis seized, serpentine trance unblinking.
Ruin seemed sealed.
Kyle’s stare ballooned wide instead.
Curiosity’s toll loomed mortal; lids clamped, pleas whispered final.
Voice boomed instead.
“You there, sentry. Approach.”
Duty mates fled afar post-glance; isolation pinned blame true.
Everette shuffled forth, condemned march.
Noble etiquette foreign, he groveled lord-deep.
Judging sweep raked crown to sole.
Kyle murmured low, pondering.
“Sorry? Words escaped me.”
Everette berated lapsed ears amid terror’s vise.
Irate spark absent from Kyle.
Pivoting aside, he hailed the baron.
“Shurak master, grant speech with this fellow.”
Metropolis count dwarfed the hamlet chief.
Bends cascaded consent.
“Your command, Count Seymour.”
Everette’s voice vanished from equation.
Gesture snapped before assent closed.
Mind blanked in panic’s void.
Terror numbed cogitation.
Mercy gleamed: no instant blade for insolence.
Steps trailed blindly.
Into the baron’s chambers.
“Sire, your servant reports. Entering now.”
Knock echoed courteous.
Edwin claimed the space.
Thus poised Everette at throne’s threshold.
Lungs drew stealthy reserve.
Clearance murmured soon.
Inner signal beckoned.
Everette crossed as bidden prior.
Edwin spoke, eyes on the trailblazer shadowing Kyle.
