Terian's Deliverance

Political event

What use is a ruler that doesn't want to rule? A sick boy without a support system? To the people, he was all that was left. People called the first few years of his reign the fall of the imperials. Diplomatic relations sustained by the crown had fallen awry, and nobility were ripping each other apart, all believing they'd soon have a shot at greater power. The bastard children of his father's unfaithfulness emerged from the shadows of the empire, no longer fearful of their own presence. Terrian—the boy—was a hound driven into the corner, and soon enough, he began to bark. When they didn't give him space, he began to bite.

  The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the bustling city of Choilli. Terrian, young yet forged in the crucible of relentless assassination attempts, stood at the heart of it all. His eyes were hard as steel, his jaw set in grim determination. He had faced death more times than he could count, each attempt a bitter reminder of the treachery woven into the very fabric of his empire. Over twenty attempts, and yet here he stood, unbroken, unyielding.
  The square was a tableau of horror, bodies crumpled in the center, their blood seeping into the cobblestones. Terrian stood amidst the carnage, his heart a war drum pounding in his chest. He lifted his gaze to the crowd, their faces masks of shock and fear. For a moment, he felt the weight of his mother's hand on his shoulder, her voice whispering that he was meant for more than this. But those dreams were dead, buried with her.
  Terrian took a deep breath, the air heavy with the scent of blood and fear. "People of Vontia," he began, his voice cold and measured, "I was not born to be your emperor. As a child, I danced and drew and dreamed of a life far from this throne. But fate, cruel and unyielding, had other plans."
  He paused, letting his words sink in. The crowd was silent, every eye fixed on him. "I did not seek this crown. It was thrust upon me by death and circumstance. My mother saw the potential for art in my hands, but those hands have been forced to wield a blade instead. Each assassination attempt, each betrayal, has forged me into the ruler you see before you."
  His voice began to rise, the steel calm giving way to the fire within. "You think I wanted this? To kill my own subjects? To stand here, soaked in the blood of my father's children? No. This was not my choice. This was not my destiny. But I have been driven to the edge, and now, I have no choice but to fight."
  Terrian's voice trembled with emotion, his eyes burning with unshed tears. "If it were not for Lincoln, you would have no ruler! One of these bodies," he gestured to the fallen, "would be the tyrant you so desperately sought to crown. But I am not dead. I will not fall!"
  His voice thundered now, echoing through the square. "It is too late to turn back. I will crush anything that threatens Vontia. I will not let my family's legacy die!"
  His rage was a palpable force, his words a fiery brand. "I did not want this. I did not seek this. But I will not abandon it. I will protect this empire, even if it means burning the world down! I will kill anyone who stands in my way. If you wish to make an enemy of me, so be it. I will become the monster you fear!"
  He drew his sword, holding it high. "I AM NOT YOUR EMPEROR! I AM NOT YOUR RULER! I AM YOUR GOD, AND YOU WILL OBEY MY EVERY COMMAND OR DIE IN DISOBEDIENCE!"
  The crowd trembled, the air thick with the weight of his declaration. Terrian stood tall, a young man forged in the fires of fate, ready to do whatever it took to secure his empire. The echoes of his words would reverberate through the annals of history, a testament to the ruthless resolve of a boy who had become a god.