“Brother, do you believe my crops survived?”

—Survived?

Survival alone would be considered a miraculous event. Ah, not that he doesn’t wish they were alive, but... well. Can’t he see how low that possibility is right now?

“Do you really believe they would still be… alive?” Even though he wants to tell him to "stop being stupid," he lets him explain his thought process first before scolding him.

A pause. Then, with two cheeks scrunched up in a pout, his younger brother whispers out. “It doesn’t look too bad outside... Maybe the Snow Willows would survive? Or even the Ground Snowdew?"

Mouth wide open, he couldn’t help but be at a loss for words. Yes, they can still be alive. Ah…maybe? No, no, stop letting him get into your head. It was foolish to think those fragile plants would survive after this; the sun hadn’t been out to provide nutrients, and recalling the books he had read about plant survival and how crucial sunlight was for their growth, it was a very slim chance if anything was blooming at all—to say the least. And that’s if they haven’t sung their last breath already.

“The Pinegramil rose would certainly have a higher chance, uh…brother?” Emmett called out.

To further his thought process, the rainwater that had submerged the plants was added to his list of reasons why they wouldn’t survive. While water was essential for their hydration and nutrient absorption, too much could be detrimental; it could lead to root rot or suffocate the delicate roots altogether. So, with all these conditions being crossed off and the everlasting darkness these days, it would be a miracle if they hadn’t died already. He felt as if he were washing rice, but with each wash, it still came out muddled in a haze. Then there was his brother, who kept on throwing stones in. He could never understand how he could stay so steadfast in everything he was hyper focused on, but unfortunately, it was looking grim on his side. He knew that his brother’s choice of hardy plants meant they were more resilient than most, and since winter storms plague them every year, this much hardship was nothing new to them… but even their resilience should have its limits. And it wasn’t as though they were constructed of sponge to absorb the overflow of rainwater or stone to prevent them from toppling over from the strong winds.

No—Even if it were stone, it would crumble and fall, and the sponge would be overflowing, spilling by its seams, heavy with wet by the rate it was going.

 As each day went by, the storms became more severe and daunting; they would’ve put the lovely plants’ capacity for endurance to the max. Their sturdy defenses were in jeopardy of being penetrated with each and every violent gust of wind that came their way. 

Just how many days has it been already?

They surely wouldn’t have been able to survive this long.

“Brother, are you even listening to me?” Emmett turned his back from the window and stalked towards him.

So yes, he would be lying if he claimed they would even survive under these conditions.

He sighed as he continued to block out his brother. He wouldn’t even want to know what his counter argument would be, so it would be best to just keep it to himself, if anything, it would only make his brother sad, and that’s another pain in itself. Yes, yes. It would be best not to answer him with such a harsh reality.

Making up his mind, he nodded to himself and pulled another book from his small library and opened it to a random page. He felt a small plop to his side as his brother sat beside him, but that didn’t stop him as he began reading the text on the page.

Stare—

He concentrated even more on the page, but he was unable to stop the pages from melting out of his ears as his brother kept staring at him. Even though he gave the small portions of the text his whole attention, he ultimately found himself skimming the majority of the paragraphs. 

Stare—

He could feel his brother's watery eyes piercing the side of his face like a pesky mold that won’t go away. He remains strong through it all, and with a straight expression, he quickly scans the page again, looking back and forth to locate the previous passage he had read. This didn’t last for long though, as he could slowly feel his resolve slipping as he kept staring at one sentence, reading it over and over until finally he felt a poke on his right cheek and he sighed again, “Don’t fret about it if you cannot prevent its fate; it is only natural that this might have happened. We have ample time to plant new ones," he concluded, glancing at the fireplace before directing all his attention to his younger brother. "Should these fail to endure the harvest, and by the time this is over, I will personally tend to your garden again; therefore, cease your whining." 

Despite the blunt tone, his brother ought to have grown accustomed to it by this point. It was not new to him, and he should know that his heart bled for him. However, it was inevitable, and while the anguish he would endure would not be on par with the sorrow of his brothers, it would nonetheless be shared. 

He was aware of Emmett's deep appreciation for his plants; he just felt guilty for allowing them to develop such a close bond. It is incomprehensible how something so uninteresting could bring such a smile to his face. Yes, the plants were lovely, but wouldn’t Emmett prefer a dog to something so… mundane? He couldn’t find any fault, though; he guessed that naturally, right now, his sensitive brother would feel sorry for the crops he had been looking after for over a year. He would also like to divert his attention from what is now happening. While they are going through the deadliest storm on record, it would be strange if he was not worried about a few plants.

The storm had been raging for more than a month, and it had completely darkened the sky and quickly spread across the nations, erasing even the moon's light.

The brothers, who were never fond of the dark, could only endure as they fell asleep in darkness every night and awoke in it. Days spent in the dark seemed never-ending, but at least they had an abundance of candles to brightly light the landscape in replacement for the moon. 

However not even two weeks later, before the last candles could be lit, a tiny light emerged in the sky.

“The sky, brother! The heavens are at last illuminated! It is a blessing to think that we will see the sun once more.” Through the hallways, Emmett excitedly tugged at Elwood's sleeves. 

He couldn’t help but feel a sense of optimism as they ran towards the large doors leading to the front courtyard. The glow got bigger and brighter, as though it were an ember of light shining through the darkness that had consumed their existence for the last couple of weeks. It would have been nice to see some sunshine after being in the dark for so long, but as he stepped outside their home and glanced up, he discovered why the storm was still raging.

“Emmett, go back inside.” Elwood sternly commanded and held his brother back from stepping into the rain.

“But, Brother—” Emmett refused to be held back, and broke through the arms holding him back.

“Emmett, God damnit listen to me!” 

Sharply he snatched the back of his shirt and tugged him back into their home away from the blood red rain.

It was an eclipse—it had painted the sky a gory hue of crimson and served as a warning to all mortals that a conflict had broken out in the skies between the gods and heaven’s celestials. It was a dark omen, and every nation recognized the significance of the event. Despite the fact that it was a rare occurrence, elders, children, and everyone in between realized what it symbolized.

And, as the two brothers peered at the sky, they both felt wonder and terror crush into their bodies. It was their first time seeing something so monumental and great—truly a once in a thousand years kind of event—yet it was horrifying to see the sky's deep red hues deposit on the earth below.

Elwood could only push his brother back into their castle as his mind captured the brilliance of the bloodied sky. ‘It was bleeding; the moon was bleeding onto the earth.’ His mind supplied as he walked into his now red-covered halls, pulling Emmett behind him, ‘It looked as if one of the Gods took a knife to the moon’s heart, causing its body to send blood dripping throughout the sky.’ His mind cursed him with that image. ‘The clouds, furthermore, looked like gauses trying to keep the bleeding to a minimum, only to be soaked through.’

Elwood watched as people flooded his gates the next day. He saw as millions became frightened as the eclipse lingered for days, weeks, and then a month. Whispers began to spread through the streets like wildfire among the people. Legends and tales of ancient prophecies echoed through the crowds, each person interpreting the eclipse in their own way.

“The gods are finally going to smite us all down, and once they finish their holy reckoning, we will be their next target!" One woman screamed out, her voice cracking in the end.

“A purge within the heavens will finally leave us with one true god!" Another voice radiated throughout the crowd. “We must pray to the gods who survive so we may be blessed!”

Yet, amidst the chaos of conflicting beliefs and interpretations, a lone voice rose above the rest. An elderly man in rags strode up from the dirty alleyway, his eyes filled with wisdom, as he addressed the crowd. Despite the rising panic that swept over the people, his voice exuded a sense of calm that filled the air in waves.

“Friends,” he began, his words resonating through the anxious silence. “We must not let fear cloud our judgment or drive us towards darkness. The eclipse is a natural phenomenon, a celestial dance that has occurred since the beginning of time. The immortals are playing their symphony for us down below, and we must wait for them to finish. Can’t you hear their voices through the rain?” He opens his arms to embrace the rain pouring down on him and, with wide eyes, continues, “This eclipse will send us back to The Blithe Life Grove, right to where all life began; we must prepare to sacrifice ourselves to our holy saviors. We must become one with the earth once again!" He ended with a yell, and because of the rain, no one knew whether he was crying or if rainwater was simply falling down his face.

It was silent for a brief moment; it was a eery pause before... ‘thunk’ a stone was tossed from the crowd, hitting him right across the face, then another hitting his chest, then another, then another. The next second, pebbles began raining down on him, coming in as waves as a result of his speech. 

It wasn’t long before he was forced to retreat back into his alley after being the target of a mass stoning.

Elwood couldn’t blame them; it was a way to pass the time as the days looked bleaker for the ordinary people as dwindling food supplies ran out and chaos surrounded them.

He could hear the people screaming and begging outside the gates for assistance, food, shelter, or anything else that might improve things. The screams carried throughout the night, and brawls were fought outside his gates.

With heavy steps, Elwood made his way to the stockpile, where provisions were rapidly running out as he made daily shipments to each town. He knew that distributing food alone would not be enough to quell the growing unrest, so he called his knights and ordered them to help the towns however they could, determined to give more than just food.

"We must address the underlying causes of their anguish. We cannot remain here while they face this crisis alone. I, as King of this nation, will not permit it," he declared, his voice full of righteous conviction. 

His knights nodded in agreement as they, too, saw the chaos as they roamed the streets. The following day, they were ready to embark on a mission beyond mere charity.

The knights ventured into the crowds, offering a helping hand and a compassionate ear. Amid the chaos, they gave sanctuary to individuals who lost their homes, treated wounds from the brawls that broke out, and offered words of comfort most days. Elwood thought that by being there, some order would be established, and people’s confidence in their leadership would be rekindled.

However, it became evident that these measures were not enough, and even his knights were not safe from the people’s constant demand for more from them. And, as a result, his knights suffered numerous casualties while the people slaughtered them and took entire food supplies for themselves. Food bandits awaited his carriages every day, and each time, they got ransacked.

"Damn it. This has gone too far; if it continues, we will not be able to take rations to the village down the mountain, let alone the borderlands!" Elwood exclaimed in exasperation before kicking his chair to the side.

Wahei, his dependable advisor, kept his composure in the face of the outburst and replied, "Young master... Why don’t we summon the knights back? I believe they have provided enough for the populace, and because of the increase in bandits, the knights are also experiencing catastrophic casualties. I worry that if we do not retreat now, many knights will perish.”

Elwood sighed and rubbed his face in an effort to remove the dark circles that had developed below his eyes ever since the eclipse. “Fine,” Walking to stand his chair back up, he sat back at his desk and said, “I’ll figure out what to do with the supplies.”

It didn’t take long before he found the solution to his dilemma. Although the strategy was uncomplicated, any obstacles that might arise would render him entirely incapacitated. Nonetheless, it remains to be seen whether it will escalate to that degree.

It wasn’t long before he began meticulously crafting protective talismans in accordance with his plan. Each one is intricately designed, etched with ancient symbols, and infused with powerful enchantments. These talismans would act as a shield, warding off any evildoers that dared to approach the carriages. 

Late into the night, he worked tirelessly, ensuring that every single carriage would be safeguarded. As he attached the talismans discreetly beneath each carriage, a sense of satisfaction washed over him. It was as if he could already envision the success of his endeavor.

But he knew that mere talismans might not be enough to guarantee their safety. To further fortify his plan, he delved into the depths of his magical knowledge and devised a spell of concealment. This spell would shroud each carriage in an illusionary disguise, making them appear ordinary and inconspicuous to anyone who laid eyes upon them. 

He was finished before long, and he hastily loaded them into each vehicle that was about to leave his residence that night. 

“Aha! Try and do something about that!” He raised his head and smiled towards the last of the carriages still remaining inside his residence, sweat still dripping from his forehead and breathing heavily. “Ugh...” He momentarily stumbled before clutching his head in his hands. 

He tried to shake off the strange sensation, attributing it to exhaustion and the stress of working through the night. But as the carriages disappeared into the distance, a nagging worry crept into his mind, and with a heavy heart, he turned back towards the castle, feeling an overwhelming sense of emptiness engulf him. The once vibrant halls now seemed hauntingly silent and devoid of life.

As the carriages finally reached the edge of his castle, he finally felt an abrupt withdrawal of strength from his body. He hastily made his way through the deserted corridors; each step felt heavier than before. Every time he moved, his legs trembled as if they were carrying an invisible weight. His breath grew shallow, and beads of new sweat formed on his forehead despite the coolness in the air.

Panic began to rise within him as he realized that his physical condition was deteriorating and rapidly. Every passing moment felt like an eternity as weakness consumed him from within.

“You don’t look so good.” His brother whispered beside him. “You told me you would look after yourself. Should I call the doctor for you? Or–”

“Do not worry, I am fine.” He straightened his back as if a string had been pulled and continued walking.

“But, brother—!”

“Enough!” Elwood snapped, banging his fist onto the side of the wall beside his brother, and stabbed his finger in his chest. “I don’t want another meaningless examination; if we are going to call a doctor in, it will be about you looking even paler than before.”

Emmett huffed. “You can’t always turn things around on me whenever you want to! I can be concerned about you, too; why won’t you allow me to help you as you do to me?!"

“Because I don’t need any help!!!”

Even though it was more of a screech than a scream, it had the same impact, and he could only watch in horror as his brother, as he had done countless times before, drew inward, closing himself off from the world. 

His chest grew tight with the guilt that had prickled his heart. 

In his heart, he knew Emmett was right, but now was not the moment, not with nearly ninety-nine percent of his people facing even more dire circumstances.

Elwood breathed slowly and exhaled through his nose, “I’m sorry, Emmett. You’re right. I’ll go to the doctor tomorrow.” To ease his mind, he reached out and ruffled his brother's hair twice with the palm of his hand and then grinned wearily. His brother was only taking care of him, and he could not really blame him for that.

Seeing that his brother had finally caved, Emmett reached out and squeezed his hand. 

"Thank you." 

He exclaimed with an almost ecstatic tone, as if he had just been overwhelmed with the most wonderful news ever.

However, you must realize that it was not his fault that he was ultimately unable to go; a riot broke out in front of the castle the very next day, and in order to prevent the situation in his homeland from escalating further, he was forced to immediately close the borders of Belladonia and implement an emergency lockdown. 

There is no doubt that the emergency lockdown would have had a negative impact and caused inconvenience for many Belladonia residents. Still, this was a necessary step to prevent the country's chaos from getting worse. He understood that shutting the borders would worsen the civil unrest. Still, things were getting even more dicey as more and more outsiders showed up, all in search of land and resources. Additionally, he hoped that by enforcing the emergency lockdown, he would stop the influx of outsiders and allow his people to heal and rebuild without hindrance from others. The choice was tough, but he felt it was essential for Belladonia's protection. He saw firsthand the anarchy in neighboring countries and knew they had to be on high alert, and while many people experienced hardship and inconvenience as a result of the emergency lockdown, in the end, it was a small price to pay for their country's stability and security.

The wildlife's utmost suffering was likely the most distressing he was a witness to, as hunters viciously slaughtered everything in an effort to provide for families and villages. The streets in towns had either been destroyed or flooded, leaving few or no people wandering them, and those who did venture out did so with fear etched on their faces. The once vibrant and bustling markets now stood empty, devoid of life and commerce. The awful silence that permeated the atmosphere only served to evoke an unsettling reminder of the chaos that had engulfed Belladonia.

As days passed, desperation gripped the people’s hearts even more, and food shortages became rampant, hunger gnawing at their stomachs. Hunters who were relentless and driven by desperation stripped the once-thriving agricultural fields that surrounded urban areas of their inhabitants, turning them into desolate wastelands. Farmers’ livestock were raided, and people hunted desperately for the next victim to claim.

A sense of hopelessness settled upon the people like a heavy fog in this bleak landscape, and many people lost their desire to live, succumbing to despair and committing suicide rather than confronting the horrors surrounding them. 

Many people turned to violence as murder became all too common, driven by madness and fear.

The upcoming months were plagued with millions showing their true colors in the face of peril, and Elwood was forced to cast a barrier surrounding his castle to keep the people out and protect those within.

The public denounced him after the barrier was constructed. He was accused of being a tyrant for his greedy behavior in keeping supplies, food, and shelter while the rest of the population struggled to survive on the streets. Not that he cared; he was fully aware of its appearance and would probably consider himself one as well if he was inclined to.

The barrier, on the other hand, could be held up against the common folk easily; however, that didn’t mean that they didn’t do anything or everything to try and damage it.

Every day, every damn day, as they saw the wall separating them from his castle, their rage was exacerbated by its vast separation between the haves and have-nots, and pitchforks, scythes, and shovels were flung with frustration. Many of them embed themselves into the magical shield, however, untouched by the castle. It wasn’t long before expert archers, who were also attempting to breach the barrier, launched arrows from above. Their aim was precise, but Elwood’s best knight stood vigilant, deflecting each arrow with his shield before even reaching the barrier.

When the chaos began, there were still broken windows and the remains of the front lawn, but that was only from the people. As the storm persisted, the remaining intact windows were pummeled with hailstones, and snow accumulated to obstruct their view of the exterior and seeped into the castle. The wind howled through every crack and crevice, as if taunting them from beyond their barricaded doors. However, they resisted giving in to its torment.

Hunger gnawed at their guts within the castle as their meager supplies ran out far faster than they had imagined. But this did not stop them from sharing the limited food that was left, making sure that everyone had a little more than nothing. 

Fearful of returning outside in that red glaze of land and realizing they had no faith in the viability of the crops in their garden, they subsisted on expired fruit, preserved fish, and various broths, in addition to potatoes and stale bread for food.

Six months had passed, and judging by how the downpour was getting louder and heavier, it appeared to be nearing its final stanza.

“What if it never ends, brother?”

Emmett exhaled a chilly breath while clenching his knees as they listened to the lightning crackle and burst along the tree line. They sat on the plush couch side by side; the only additional lighting they had in the room was in the form of a few candles and the fireplace, which had little wood in it, most of it coming from a table they demolished.

Emmett and his brother found alleviation in each other’s presence in the dim, cold room that used to be a warm study for them. The crackling of the lightning outside mirrored the flickering flames of the fireplace, casting dancing shadows on their faces. The mood in the room was thick, as if they were expecting something severe to happen.

Emmett’s mind wandered as he stared into the mesmerizing glow of the fireplace, still eyeing his brother from time to time. Elwood, on the other hand, felt bittersweet as he basked in the slight warmth his brother provided. He couldn’t help but feel nostalgic for earlier times when life looked less complicated. His brother, perceiving his restlessness, placed a gentle hand on his knee, which served to jolt him back to reality. It helped him recognize how much they were going to have to undergo in the future because of this storm. They’d both taken safety in this snug retreat to avoid the mayhem outside, but for how long would it last? As king of the Belladonia nation, Elwood knew how grim things looked for him when this godly war ended. People have already been lining his castle, making promises of death for both him and his brother. It wasn’t even their fault, as the gods were the ones who placed them in this red abyss they call earth now, but no. No one would ever dare curse the gods. He just hoped that after all this, the gods would help with the damages they caused.

Elwood put down his book, still avoiding his little brother’s eyes, which were pleadingly staring at the side of his face, hoping for an answer he couldn’t provide.

"Now, if that is the case, I will simply have to kick the arse of every deity, won't I?” He exclaims quite stoutheartedly, finally glancing up at his brother, “If they want war, they’ll get it.”

Putting his hand on his brother’s head, he proudly exclaimed, “Those dumb gods won’t be the end of us; I won’t let them steal our future from us. Now, push all these worries from your mind and retire to bed.”

“You always say the most bizarre things, brother.” When the next lightning strikes, Emmett giggles, and Elwood can only imagine his mother’s face from the way he grins and his eyes sparkle gold in the rays of light.

Elwood pulled his eyes away and swallowed hard. “Shouldn’t you be in bed by now? Off you go. Be cautious when walking in the dark, and take a candle with you.”

“But–”

“Brother, please leave me be.”

Elwood returns to his book and does not make a sound until he hears the door thunk from across the room, signaling that his brother has finally left.

When the door closes, he sags and rests his palm on his throbbing head. “Things will get better." Elwood rubs his temples as he tells himself a fallacy. “It had better, or else I might have to start taking more drastic measures." He longed for a brighter future, one where they wouldn’t have to live in constant fear and uncertainty. But he understood deep down that optimism alone wouldn’t be enough to transform their situation.

With a heavy sigh, Elwood closed his book and stood up from the worn-out armchair. With the swipe of his hand, all the lights in the room went out, and he trudged to his room.

 

 

 

The sky was clear the following morning, and the sun broke through the clouds to usher in a brand-new day after that awful month-long downpour.

Emmett jerked awake as he felt the sun prickling his skin through the window. It seemed so foreign at this point, but he welcomed its warmth like a hungry man, running to his window and fully opening the curtain to see the courtyard below. He rubbed his cheek against the window to prolong his enjoyment of the warmth of the sun before his skin became cold from the outside temperature.

Even though the sun was shining down, it was definitely not warm outside.

“Too cold, too cold.” He shook and rubbed his hands together before stripping out of his pajamas and skipping to his closet, walking into the huge compartment and emerging a short while later wearing a black slack outfit with a white collared blouse and a blue cardigan, to which he fastened his garden apron before leaving his room.

“Good morning!” He smiled at every servant as he hurried along the corridors; many appeared more relieved than in the previous month, which eased his soul a bit, but he also noticed a bit of anxiety among the staff. Given that his sole objective was to retreat to his personal refuge, he wished to appear unfazed by this. Therefore, he proceeded to do what he did best: feign ignorance and disregard the tension among the employees. He wouldn’t have anyone ruin this amazing day!

He had debated when changing his attire if he wanted to head to his brother’s office and greet him on such a great morning, but since he could already hear him giving orders around the castle, he would rather not deal with that mess right now. It was nothing new, and he knew he could just pretend not to hear his brother’s loud snaps to the guards or advisors when they did something stupid.

If they were lucky, Hazel would be there to take his brother’s sharp tongue for them since he has been his big brother’s own personal punching bag for a while now.

Finally reaching his personal garden, he opened the entrance to his small yard and noticed that all of his plant buddies… Had all died.

His throat felt dry, and he kneeled down to stroke a floral vine in his palm and watched it as it crumbled into dust in front of him.

“No.” He whispered out.

The leaves appeared scorched and ash dry despite the heavy rain the previous day.

He took all his plants into his heart as he mourned and began pulling them out of the flowerbeds. A teardrop stained the right side of his cheek. He knew he could start over, but it felt so unattainable that he didn’t want to think of starting a new garden so soon.

This was the first batch of plants he had ever wished to grow. He cared for them, chatting with them as if they were his friends, which may sound sad, but he genuinely wanted to see them prosper.

He’d never been able to be so close to anything that grew as a result of him, never being permitted to have pets or even fish. He’d begged a long time ago, but his uncle had a black heart, and when his brother came to power, it wasn’t like he could ask much of him since he already had to bear the weight of thousands of people. His brother had so much burden on his shoulders that he didn’t want to add anything even more, even if it was a pet for which he would be responsible.

But these plants were different. He had never felt such a sense of fulfillment and delight until they entered his life. It shouldn’t have sounded sad when he said it out loud, but it was true, and he couldn’t do anything to make it sound any happier. Each morning, he would carefully tend to their needs, watering them with precision and ensuring they received just the right amount of sunlight. And, as the days turned into weeks, he watched them in awe as tiny sprouts emerged from the soil, bouncing out from the ground. Each and every single one of them stood proudly, and Emmett took so much pride in watching them sunbathe in the damp soil.

“My friends, you’ve grown so prettily. I’ll grow you again, and even more beautiful, okay?” He spoke tearfully.

He’d talk to his plants, sharing his dreams and aspirations with them, confiding in them about his struggles and fears of loneliness, and finding solace in their silent presence. They provided a sympathetic ear without passing judgment or criticizing him in an effort to put him down.

In his small garden haven, he found comfort from the burdens that weighed heavily upon his shoulders; it felt that even if the outside world may have been filled with misery and hardship, within this plot of land, he could create a sanctuary of life.

He sniffled and wiped his tears away while trying to keep his composure. Even though he was aware that it was merely a fact of life, it nevertheless hurt terribly, and despite his most significant efforts, he was unable to protect them from dying.

“Death…” His daze turned horror-stricken.

His brother had faith in him to grow something from his own willpower, but he failed.

“I didn’t kill them, did I?” Once more, he reached out. The hand that was holding his weight slipped on the slippery, miry brick below and sliced through his skin. He watched as blood seeped into the flowerbed, and he shakily held his hand up to his chest once he fell out of his trance.

When it came to the last batch, which included the strawberries, he didn’t want to look at them, much less even deal with them, but knew he had to. He picked out the roots and threw them in a mound he was piling up.

He had taken extra care of these strawberries because they were his brother’s favorite, and he would wait for the day to have a ripe one to surprise him with; however, that day never came, and a new kind of agony grew in his heart.

He took a handful of the plant as he observed the strawberries, which looked withered in a raisin-like jumble, as the vines twirled around one another.

However, suddenly, he saw a patch of red—bright red—unlike the other crimson, dark, raised patches that were scattered surrounding it: a single strawberry was lying below the withered vines. He had a brief miracle within the reach of his hands. A slight red glow glimmered in his eyes, showcasing the hope that sparkled in them.

One strawberry managed to survive the downpour because so many others protected it with their vines and bodies. He held it gently, wiped away the dirt, and smiled.

“There have been rumors of illnesses sweeping the nation,” Wahei said calmly to Elwood.

“How many have been inflicted thus far?” Elwood peered out the window and watched as his brother removed crop after crop from his garden. “Does this relate to the widespread agricultural loss we are experiencing?” He added.

“Recently, all we have are theories.” Wahei licked his lips. “Yet, on another note, there is information regarding the reason why the Gods waged war in the heavens.” He spoke swiftly, saying, “After the war, they sent missionaries to each nation, and one was sent to one of our small shrines today. The missionary spoke of the gods and how a power vacuum had almost entirely engulfed their celestial court, requiring them to get rid of many of their own to keep order. As a result of the battle, he also noted how many would go into seclusion to repair their spiritual bodies.”

“I see… It’s no surprise that the gods are solely concerned with themselves; however, once again, it is up to us mortals to clean up their messes.” He sighed before a door slammed open, and his head maid, Ali, rushed in. “The plants! The plants are all poisoned!”

Elwood could only look at his brother from his window as he raised a small red strawberry from his fingers and dropped it into his mouth, savoring it.

Elwood suddenly flung open the window, sending glass flying against the outer wall and shattering. “Spit it out! Do not eat it!” His focus narrowed on Emmett and his slow reaction to his words before spitting out a small chunk. It was too small to be the whole strawberry, and without another thought, he sprinted out of his office and through the halls connecting to the back entrance. After slamming the door open, he looked down to see half of the strawberry on the ground.

He then went up to his little brother and jammed two fingers down his throat. His brother jerked and cried out as his fingers wiggled in his mouth. It didn’t take long before he puked and collapsed to the floor all at once.

Unfazed, Elwood looked through the mush of the food from last night on the floor, and once he saw the rest of the strawberry, he sank to the floor with his brother as relief flowed over him. His brother was still coughing, and Elwood patted his back a few more times before slamming him in an embrace that startled the other.

Holding his brother tightly, he felt a wave of guilt and relief.

As his brother’s coughing subsided, Elwood gently wiped away the tears streaming down his face. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice filled with remorse. “The strawberry was poisoned. I am sorry for scaring you.” His little brother looked up at him with teary eyes, still catching his breath. Despite his apprehension and fear, there was an undercurrent of forgiveness in his look. He knew that Elwood hadn’t meant to harm him intentionally.

“I’m okay,” his brother managed to say between gasps for air. “Just scared me a bit.”

He gently wiped the tears from his brother’s eyes with his baby blue cape before cleaning the bile from his chin and mouth.

As their doctor hurried outside with her bag of supplies, he got up off the ground alongside his sibling.

Elwood approached her, pointing to his brother and saying, “Check on him; I’ll let the rest of the kingdom know about this development.” He then quickly strode back into the estate, calling for a nationwide announcement.