6.The First Decree

Chapter Six: (The First Decree)

"First… the execution."

After those words echoed, silence fell. Mothers and fathers placed their palms gently over their children's eyes. The two soldiers turned toward Osir and gave a slight nod.

Kaweh was the first.

The soldiers pierced him. His blood began to drip—drop by drop—until he collapsed to the ground.

Then, the soldiers slowly advanced, closing the small distance between Kaweh's body and Ilmar, who sat on the floor, hands bound tightly. They raised their spears when—

"No, please! Don't kill me! I'll serve you… I'll be a slave, anything! Just don't kill me—I beg you!"

His words were sliced in half by the twin thrusts of the soldiers' spears—driven straight into his chest without mercy or pause.

Ilmar let out a low groan of pain. His violet eyes fluttered upward—only to see a sight no one wishes to see before death: the looks of pity and disgust in the soldiers' eyes.

Tears began streaming down his cheeks.

And he whispered:

"You people… nothing ever changes. Damn you all… same as always."

"Shut up. Die quietly. The Envoy has returned to bring prosperity. You're nothing but the brat of a fallen king."

"Damn you all… I swear you're all just—"

Before he could finish, a soldier's boot slammed into his face.

"I told you—shut up. Die in silence."

A few seconds later, Ilmar took his final breath.

And that breath… was the end of one age and the beginning of another.

The era of the Sixth Envoy—come to bring blessings and grace.

Yet the people did not know… that these blessings would walk the edge of ruin.

The soldiers dragged the two corpses away.

Then they said, in perfect unison:

"The execution is over… you may uncover the children's eyes now."

"The execution is over… you may uncover the children's eyes now."

The crowd erupted.

As if their long dream had finally come true.

"Silence. Silence! The Envoy's coronation begins now!"

Seconds passed in complete stillness.

Then, like a warm breeze, Lenora tapped Osir's arm quickly and lightly, urging him to look ahead.

There it was: a golden crown adorned with diamonds and radiant gems, shimmering like glass kissed by sunlight.

Osir took a deep breath.

He held the crown close to his chest, closed his ocean-blue eyes...

Then opened them once more, his voice rising loud and clear—commanding the ears and hearts of all:

> "People of Amentet,

I did not come to this throne as kings usually do.

I bear no royal blood. I raised no banners. I sought no power.

I came not out of desire—but was sent.

Guided by fate, not ambition.

> When I was born from the ashes of fear, they called me cursed.

They feared me without knowing me.

Judged me before hearing my voice.

But I endured—not because I was the strongest, but because I never lied.**

> Today, I do not speak to you as a mere 'Envoy from the unknown.'

I speak as a child of this land—born of its soil, forged by its wounds,

and shaped by its tears.**

> I cannot promise a kingdom without pain—

But I promise your pain will have meaning.**

> I shall not raise swords—

I shall raise awareness.

I shall not plant fear in the streets—

But hope in every mind.**

> Yes, I was sent…

But today, I choose.

I choose to be a king, not a ruler.

A servant of truth, not a tyrant crowned."**

> "People of Amentet,

Today begins our covenant—

Not with a curse… but with a sun that never denies the day.

And peace be upon those who believed before they saw,

Who forgave before they understood,

And who fought so we may live."

The crowd stood frozen—breathless before such profound words.

It was the first time their Envoy had spoken to them this way.

And those words stirred something in their hearts…

Love—no, devotion—for the one they now called the Envoy.

Less than half a minute passed before Osir raised the crown high and declared:

"Power belongs to the Envoy—

No… power belongs to the Envoy and the people!"

And he concluded:

> **"Now, my first decree as king:

Democracy above all.

I hereby declare the establishment of a People's Minister—

a new role that will be chosen every six months from the eastern region.

This Minister shall do nothing but listen to the people's needs and document them.

> I vow, personally, to read these records.

To reject their flaws, and bring their truths to life.

To govern by the will of the people, not the comfort of the throne."**

And not even a second later…

The crowd burst into cheers—chanting a single name:

"The Envoy! The Envoy!"