Rogg stood before Xaverius, his gaze calm and authoritative. There was not a hint of intimidation, even though the atmosphere between the two was charged with silent tension and emotional undercurrents.
"Just call me Xaverius," said Prince Xaverius.
"Very well, Xaverius," Rogg replied, sitting across from him.
"Tell me, Rogg, how does it feel to be a part of Guava Valley?" Xaverius asked.
With steady composure and quiet dignity, Rogg answered, "Nothing special... other than family."
"Then welcome home, Brother," said Xaverius warmly.
Rogg gave a slight nod.
"It's good to finally meet you," Xaverius added with a wide smile. "Looking at you feels like seeing our father again. Your bearing, your presence—it reminds me so much of our grandfather, the one who placed us in these very positions."
"What position are you referring to? I'm just sitting here as a free man, and you're sitting as a prince, aren't you?" Rogg said plainly.
"Whether prince or not, I want what you have—to be a free man," said Xaverius. "But the position I meant is this: that we are brothers."
"Tell me then, what is it you want from me?" Rogg asked.
"A power. The strength to become an emperor. To save lives. To become what you've always dreamed of—for the sake of humanity," Xaverius said earnestly.
"Can you be more specific?" asked Rogg.
"Shall we talk while walking in the garden?" Xaverius suggested.
"But you're in a wheelchair. How would you walk?" Rogg questioned.
"Isn't that why you're here?" Xaverius replied with a smirk.
And so, the two began moving through the corridor of the castle, descending the spiral ramp designed specifically for Xaverius.
"Born with weak legs, yet made crown prince of the Empire... sometimes that feels like a curse, Robb," said Xaverius.
"Why would you say that? Doesn't that bring a sense of balance?" Rogg asked softly, carefully guiding the wheelchair down the curved balcony toward the castle's grand corridor.
"Balance—maybe—when we follow the traditions of the Empire. But with my condition, I'm no longer seen as a prince. By all rights, I should've been made Prime Minister. That's the disgrace I carry. A prince by birth, yet stuck in a wheelchair. I hold no real power, and I'm given no real chance," Xaverius admitted.
"I don't fully understand what you're trying to say, Xaverius," said Rogg.
They were now deep within the inner halls of the castle.
"This castle, Rogg, is the very first residence ever built for a Whiteheaven emperor—aside from the Grand Throne Hall in the Imperial Palace. This one was built second, meant for living quarters, while the original serves for the throne and state matters. Do you know what makes this castle special, Rogg?" asked Xaverius.
"I don't. Honestly, I don't understand it at all," Rogg replied.
"If the Emperor's Palace is the symbol of the greatness of Whiteheaven as a whole, then this castle is the symbol of the greatness of the emperors and their Grand Viziers. On the right side are monuments to every emperor, from Robelix the First to the most recent, our grandfather, Emperor Rogius Robelix, the fourteenth. There's even a space left blank—reserved for the fifteenth emperor.
On the left side stand monuments to the Grand Viziers, the emperors' second-in-command. Starting from Seraphis Nocturna, the first Grand Vizier and sister of Robelix the First, continuing down to the empty spots—marking eras where emperors had no siblings—until the last one: my father, Brovon Robelix," Xaverius explained.
"But why was your father listed as Grand Vizier? Wasn't he the fifteenth emperor of Whiteheaven?" asked Rogg.
Xaverius chuckled gently. "I didn't expect you to know that. But even up until his departure to Mount Lakhsa, he never once referred to himself as emperor. He always called himself the Grand Vizier."
"What made Uncle say that?" Rogg pressed, though he seemed to already have an idea—wanting instead to hear Xaverius's version.
"You already know the truth, don't you?" Xaverius said with a knowing laugh, though there was a serious clarity in his tone."Rogg, when our grandfather had two sons—your father, my uncle Brovos, and my father Brovon—it followed our family's tradition. The elder sibling would become Grand Vizier; the younger, emperor. The elder held absolute legal power. The younger, the supreme throne. This has been the philosophy of our clan for centuries—balance between siblings when it comes to power. But that's not what matters most now. What matters is our people."
"Your people, not mine," said Rogg firmly.
"I don't feel entitled to rule over anyone," he added.
"The essence of a prince is to define his stance. When something must be protected, it's protected. And when something must be sacrificed to protect something greater, it doesn't mean we blindly abandon it," Xaverius said calmly.
"You're right. As Magnoli once said—what may sound indifferent on the surface might, deep down, be the voice of justice.As a prince, I've chosen to protect the integrity of our family as the Empire's rightful leaders. I sacrificed my own life in the palace. I raised the name of our clan, Robelix, and our tribe, the Illeum. And now, as the eldest of our generation, I share with you a responsibility—and a legal authority, Rogg."
"What do you mean by that?" asked Rogg.
"This is the 13th year since my father handed over the Empire to the six Great Ministers. In that time, as you've seen yourself—slavery, corruption, tyranny—they've spread like rot. The empire our grandfather built, the Robelix legacy, is crumbling from within."
"So much has happened—so many voices, so much noise. Now, it is time for us to reclaim what is rightfully ours, what is both our duty and our inheritance," said Xaverius.
"I don't have any right to a position of power, Xaverius. But I do have a duty to stand for humanity—as a fellow human being," Rogg replied calmly.
"That's precisely why your duty must be accompanied by a rightful claim. Our existence as rulers is like that of a great tree—sheltering all creatures who lean on and hide beneath its branches. The more beings that fall within your shade, the more predators will come for you, trying to tear you down.
Not only that—the stronger the winds will howl, the harsher the rain will fall, and the crueler the droughts will feel. That's why you need strength—the strength of roots, of leaves, and of your trunk. Rogg, like a tree, we come from the same root, we are the same tree now. I need you to share that strength, so we can protect the people together," said Xaverius, his voice low, but resolute.
"I'm not interested in any imperial position, no matter what it is you're offering. But I am interested in humanity. So say what you need to say," Rogg answered firmly.
"I have no right to offer you any title, Rogg. But I am reminding you of the blood that runs in your veins—the same as mine. A prince's blood. I'm asking you to protect Damerius. According to my father's decree, he is to be the next emperor," said Xaverius.
Rogg let out a short laugh. "Have you already forgotten your own words?"
"There is no claim to power in what I said—not even from your own father," Rogg continued, as if he knew something greater than anyone had yet dared to speak aloud.
"What are you implying, Rogg? By the decree my father left behind, Damerius is the one chosen to be the next emperor. And I am to be the Grand Vizier, just as the decree states," Xaverius replied, his tone hardening.
"There is a criminal in this empire—someone who has ruined the lives of many, including those you've sworn to protect. And he is laughing from within these palace walls. You won't be able to stop him—not with a million carefully calculated plans drawn from that chair of yours," said Rogg, his voice like a cold blade.
Prince Xaverius's eyes reddened with fury. Even after all these years, even with all his insight, there was a truth that had slipped through his grasp. And now, Rogg—who had once lived in the shadows—knew more than he did.
"Just tell me—what is it?" Xaverius demanded.
"There's a truth you won't be able to accept," Rogg replied.
"Then so be it. I'll find out myself. Come, walk with me to the garden," said Xaverius.
And so the two of them now stood in the emperor's garden, gazing out at the vastness of the empire—so great it loomed like a mountain, one whose peak they could not even see from where they stood.
After a storm of debate and a clash of rising emotions, now was the time for silence—time to let themselves breathe again, side by side.