On a gloomy night shrouded by darkness, one where not even the stars and the moon were visible, a shadowy cathedral appeared. It was colored in a dark shade of colors, almost unlike any of the cathedrals of the major religions.
It was surrounded by absolute nothingness; it was like a building made atop an endless and dark void.
The figure breathed slowly and exhaled; the breath was visible in the cold, lifeless place.
The cathedral was more than a hundred meters tall, and the bell at the top rang loudly with a reasonable "gong!"
The figure's eyes darted around it first, looking at the bell atop the twilight cathedral, then its eyes slowly moved down to the entrance.
A dim light was shining through the seams between its doors.
The figure approached it slowly, its eyes fixated on the only source of light in the dark world. His shadowy arms pressed firmly on the doors and exerted enough force for light to completely illuminate him.
Yet the shadow that surrounded him wasn't affected whatsoever.
His eyes adjusted to the light, and his gaze moved to the center of the cathedral.
A pale and sickly person was present there.
It was a male.
His hands were nailed to a cross. His body was hung on the wall farthest from him; his hands were raised as if he were hugging the sun.
Yet his ocean blue eyes were lifeless like the endless void that was outside the cathedral.
His hair was blonde, and his skin pale; he looked to be a Northerner. He wore a tiara made up of thorns that pierced the skin on his skull, coating his face in blood.
Blood freely flowed down from the various cuts and injuries in his body.
Red liquid flowed down from his injuries and down his legs and dripped.
Drip! Drip!
The shadowed figure's eyes traced the blood to the floor, a floor coated in sticky blood that was not coagulating.
He slowly walked through the bloodied floor, his feet sticking to the liquid.
As he got close, he knelt on the floor.
His shadowed hands grasped the pale feet of the hanged man. They were cold and shrunken like a child's. His hands and body trembled.
Blood continued dripping.
With a reverence, his shadowed lips touched the hanged figure's cold and bloodied feet.
...
20th December 1190, Morning.
(A week after the conversation with the soldier.)
Alicent gasped awake.
Cold sweat soaked his back. His breath came in short bursts as if he'd surfaced from drowning. He stood up.
The world around him was still, and the sounds of the sheep and Goats gradually replaced the silence.
For a moment, his world was dark like the endless void outside of the cathedral, then his vision returned to him.
He raised his trembling hand to his lips.
They still felt warm. Unlike the cold and lifeless corpse.
His left eye throbbed as if a needle had pierced it. He clenched his teeth.
"Who was it?" he muttered aloud. "Why would I kiss his feet?"
He stood slowly and poured himself a cup of water as the moonlight shone through the window.
He looked at the water as the ripples died down, and just as he was about to raise it to his mouth, he saw his reflection.
A flicker.
For a heartbeat, he saw something else staring back: a golden crown hovering above his head, his eyes crying tears of blood.
He blinked. It vanished.
His grip loosened, and the glass fell to the floor.
The metal glass tumbled through the floor, soaking the carpet. He stood still, gazing at the floor, one eye emitting an eerie glow.
"The Lord's corpse—!"
His legs gave out, his mind slowed, and his eyes blurred. He fell to the soaked floor.
...
The shadows clung to the corners of the room like ash after a fire, and for a long moment, he didn't move. His breath came ragged, and his skin was clammy with sweat.
He sat up slowly, staring at his hands.
He had stood before the corpse of a god.
It towered over him, impossibly still, marred with cuts and injuries. The body was suspended in a cathedral drowned in blood, its arms outstretched, its feet bare, bleeding.
And he had knelt.
Not in fear. But in faith.
The taste of divine rot and iron lingered still on his lips.
If you gaze long enough into the abyss...
Memories of King Aegis surfaced in his mind; his left eye throbbed lightly; it was not pain, just some pressure.
"The abyss also gazes back at you." He finished the sentence.
That was the abyss... the abyss slew the lord and hung his corpse in the cathedral? Then, who was the figure? Was it me? ...
Or was it Aegis?
The shadow that covered him in the dream, he was sure of it. It was cold, like it possessed no warmth and no life.
Alicent was sure the shadow was the Abyss.
Then that would mean the king had been corrupted by the abyss; He had memories of being killed by the Red Order. It was simply not possible.
Am I even the king?...
Alicent wondered if he was King Aegis or just possessed the Late King's memories. He was sure the memories were his, but saw no connection between himself, the figure in his dreams, and the king.
In his memories, Aegis was a conqueror who united the continent under a single banner of the Red Order. The very same order slew him.
Why was that?
Why would the order have slain the king?
He recalled some information from the "Tyrant" Biography book. He had finished the book several days ago; it held no mention of the supernatural; it only portrayed the Emperor as a dictator and a selfish narcissist.
Although Aegis still remembered the face of his heir, his youngest child. The book had made no mention of it. It simply mentioned *Even after three marriages, the blood of the tyrant held no heirs.
Was his heir's name erased from history to protect him? Alicent could only craft theories.
After the conquest ended, the tyrant was said to have been killed by the rebel faction. He remembered the contents of the book. They contradicted the knowledge he held. He also knew that the "rebel faction" was the name the Current Red Order used to portray its acts against the king in 300 years ago.
There were multiple mentions of the "rebel faction," which was exalted as a great organization that opposed the Tyrant. After Aegis was killed, it mysteriously disappeared.
The church of the lord, which had the symbol of a lone white cross, had also mysteriously been replaced with the church with the red cross and the snake wrapping around it.
A snake symbolized rebirth in the Leosian culture.
The Lord was reborn? And the symbol of the white cross was replaced by the red cross with the twirling snake? That would be a plausible theory...
He kept making theories and assumptions based on the knowledge he had.
The man hanging on the cross was the Lord. The shadowy figure was my visage, corrupted by the abyss, perhaps. The figure kissed the lord's feet, submitting himself before the lord.
After the red order was reformed with the red cross and the twirling snake, the emperor, the tyrant, and I perished...
Or was the red order reformed after I perished?
Perhaps the reformed red order was already acting as the rebel force before and killed the lord, its symbol, a red cross with a twirling snake.
Signifying the shedding of old skin, the old god...
Alicent's body shook, his pupils dilated, and a chilling sensation doused him.
... A new god was born? A new Lord of Light?
It was just an assumption; everything matched up, except for the shadowy figure he saw in his dream.
Who am I?
Am I Emperor Aegis? Am I the Shadowy figure? Or Am I Alicent Gregris?
Am I one consumed by the Abyss? Or the Bringer of Light?
Am I The Tyrant Oppressorr? Or am I The greatest Empreror?