THE RAGNAROK BROTHERS

Lord Aelric listens intently, his expression darkening as the King recounts the tragic tale of the Ragnarok brothers. He gestures to a nearby seat, offering the King a moment to sit before continuing the conversation.

"Your Majesty, the tale you speak of... it is one of great tragedy. But tell me, how did these brothers—born from such a powerful family, loved by the community—turn to such darkness?" Aelric's voice is calm, but there's a flicker of concern in his eyes. "What is it that drives them now to seek the downfall of the monarchy?"

King Darion takes a deep breath, settling into the chair. "It began with something as simple as a grudge—a captain's obsession with their mother. Her name was Elira, the most beautiful woman in the town of Valderin. She had four sons. Their father, Odran, was a wealthy farmer, the major supplier of crops to the town and its nobles. They were well-respected, admired by all. But that respect came crashing down the day the new city guard captain, a man named Jorin, came into their lives."

The King's voice darkens, and he clenches his fists, remembering the injustice. "Jorin, on his first day, set his eyes on Elira. He began courting her, much to the displeasure of Odran, her husband. But she, sensing his intentions, avoided him as best she could. That didn't stop the captain, though. He grew more brazen, coming directly to their house, and eventually, his advances turned violent. It was then that Odran confronted him, and the town saw the brutality of it all. The captain was humiliated, and it only fueled the hatred that would define the course of their lives."

Lord Aelric nods solemnly, urging the King to continue.

"The eldest son, Kaelen, was a man of honor, training to join the Royal Knights. His second eldest, Thorne, quick-witted and fast on his feet, was the one who would become their strategist. The third, Fendrel, was a brilliant mind, helping his father with the business. And the youngest, Elian, a shy boy, was closest to their mother."

The King's eyes darken as he recalls the fateful day when everything changed.

"It was a bright and sunny day when the guards came for Odran. He was taken away, accused of poisoning the crops, though he had done no such thing. The family waited in torment, unsure of their father's fate. A legal notice arrived stating the charges, and they were given five days before a court hearing would determine his sentence. During those five days, Elian, the youngest, helped manage the farm alongside Thorne, but they could do little to stop what was coming."

The King pauses, the memory still fresh. "On the day of the trial, Kaelen and Thorne went to the court, but their father did not arrive with the guards. They waited for hours, but when the news came, it was far worse than they expected. Their father was dead—beaten to death, a victim of cruelty and injustice. The trial had never been fair; the guards had killed him before the trial even began."

Lord Aelric's face tightens as he listens to the tale unfold. The King continues, his voice now thick with anger.

"When Kaelen and Thorne returned, they found their house in disarray. Their mother, Elira, had been killed—her body desecrated in a horrific way. The brothers, already consumed by grief, became driven by a burning desire for vengeance. Kaelen, once a man of honor, became consumed with bloodlust. He and the remaining workers of their farm began to rise against the very system that had torn their family apart."

The King stands, his hand gripping the back of his chair. "They killed the captain, the one who started it all. But they didn't stop there. They took their revenge on the lord, placing his head on a spike for all to see. They sent a message. And that message spread through the Southern Empire like wildfire."

Aelric leans forward, his eyes narrowing. "And now they are moving westward?"

The King nods gravely. "Yes. They have grown bolder, their forces swelling in numbers. They are heading toward the borders of our kingdom. They want to overthrow the monarchy, tear down the very fabric of the Empire. They know no mercy."

Lord Aelric stands, pacing as he absorbs the weight of the story. "These brothers, the Ragnarok brothers... they are not just seeking vengeance, are they? They are building something, something far darker. And with their ability to rally the oppressed behind them, they will be a threat to us all."

The King's voice is heavy with resolve. "We must act swiftly, Aelric. If we do not, their darkness will spread, and the very soul of the Empire will be at risk. We cannot let the legacy of the Ragnarok brothers be one of destruction. We must stop them, before it's too late."