Markus Ironclad was a towering figure, with broad shoulders and a stern face. His eyes were a steely grey, and he looked every bit the part of a powerful war god. His wife, Celeste, was the picture of beauty and grace. She was dressed in a flowing gown, her dark hair adorned with a circlet of silver. But despite their beauty and power, they both seemed weary and sad. There was a deep sadness in their eyes, as if they had seen too much of the world's cruelty.The gods watched as Franklin approached them, his eyes wide with wonder and fear. He had never been inLucille and Mona spoke in hushed tones, recounting everything they had witnessed of Franklin's journey. They told of the courage and kindness he had shown, and of the pain and loss he had experienced. They spoke of the choices he had made, and the difficult path he had chosen. The gods listened intently, their expressions unreadable. When the tale was finished, they turned to look at Franklin, and he felt their eyes on him like a

Finally, he spoke, his voice quiet but firm. "I cannot let this go. I cannot forgive what has been done. But I can promise you this: I will not force you to do anything against your will. I will not make you a vampire, not if you don't want it."Celeste let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you," she said, feeling a weight lift from her shoulders.The sight was unexpected, and it took both Markus and Dean by surprise. Franklin, the powerful and imposing figure they had come to know, was now reduced to tears, his vulnerability on full display. It was a side of him that they had never seen before, and it was difficult to process.Markus held Dean up, keeping him steady as they approached Franklin. They could see the anguish on his face, the pain and regret that was evident in every line of his body."Please," he begged, his voice hoarse with emotion. "Please, I'm so sorry."With compassion and grace, Celeste turned to the two men, her eyes pleading. "Please, can you help me carry Franklin?"

As Mona waited for Elliott's response, she could see the tension in his body. He was clearly uncomfortable with the question, and it took him a moment to find the right words. "Your father, the late King Magnus, once insulted the elven king in a letter," he said. "He called him a weak and foolish leader, and said that the elves' intelligence was nowhere near the centaurs'. The elven king was deeply offended, and relations between our peoples have been strained ever since." Mona was stunned. She had no idea that her father had done such a thing.As Mona looked at the letter, her heart sank. The words were clear, and there was no doubt that they had been written by her father. The words were not in line with the man she knew and loved, but the handwriting was unmistakable. "This doesn't make sense," she said, her voice shaky. "My father was always so diplomatic and peace-loving. Why would he say such things?" Elliott placed a hand on her shoulder, his face full of concern. "I don't know

As Franklin clenched his jaw, he tried not to think about what he was about to do. If he thought too much, he might change his mind. But he didn't want to change his mind. He needed this.Nick knew this was a suicide mission. But he understood Franklin's thirst for revenge. He had felt that same thirst when his father, Darius, the God of Thieves, disowned him for not living up to the family's reputation as ruthless thieves. It had been years since that day, but the pain was still raw.Maybe that's why he wanted to help Franklin, to help him avoid making a mistake. To spare him the years of regret and anger. But he couldn't make the choice for him. He could only try to reason with him, to make him see the bigger picture."You have to consider the cost," he said. "What if you lose more than you gain?"Franklin remained silent, his eyes fixed on the horizon. Nick knew he was barely listening, his mind already made up. But he had to try."Please, think this through," he pleaded. "Don't t

"I suggest we throw a shindig!"While King Roderick's proclamation was met with cheers and applause, Dahlia knew that there was still much work to be done.The centaurs had been through so much, and their struggle was far from over. The king's gesture was a good start, but it would take more than words to truly make amends.As the celebration continued, Dahlia watched Mona and Victor laughing and chatting. The contrast between their lighthearted banter and the serious situation at hand was not lost on her.Elliott stood stiffly, his face a carefully crafted mask of composure. But Dahlia could see the turmoil beneath the surface. The weight of the king's words and the memories they evoked were clearly taking a toll on him.Roderick continued to praise Elliott's bravery, unaware of the young man's inner turmoil. He spoke of him as a hero, but for Elliott, the memory of that day was anything but heroic.Dahlia noticed a single tear escape from Elliott's eye, but he quickly wiped it away.