Short story: When the Sun Rose

Short story: When the Sun Rose

A king, burdened by war and doubt, joins his loyal army for a final stand. A tale of sacrifice, loyalty, and redemption unfolds as the sun rises.

The sun rose as King Nyrothian marched with his knights toward the battlefield. Last night, Nyrothian, the King of the Vyrathian Dominion, had been restless. For months, he had struggled to sleep, knowing that soon no Vyrathian Dominion might be left on any map. Unlike their powerful neighbors, the Vyrathian Dominion was not a strong kingdom. If the ongoing war with the neighboring empire merely depleted the kingdom’s treasure, Nyrothian wouldn’t have felt so anxious. But the conflict also cost the lives of innocent people in his realm. Was he truly a worthy king? If he could not protect the lives of his subjects, how could he sit proudly on the throne? What will historians write about him? How would the people of his kingdom perceive a king so weak that he could not save his people? The thought of losing lives under his reign tormented him, a fire burning within that was both painful and consuming. His army sacrificed their lives for his honor, yet he felt the weight of so many lives lost pressing down on him. The burden was too heavy for his shoulders to bear.

Nyrothian could not hide in the palace while his brave army fought on the battlefield. He decided to meet with the commanders and troops in the morning, sending a messenger to inform Commander Kaelor that he would soon join them on the field. Nyrothian was so eager to meet with his army that he felt the night was dragging on, and the sun was too slow to rise. As dawn approached, Nyrothian set out for the battlefield with his knights. It was not far from the empire; it only took nearly four days for the horses to reach the jungle, as they were familiar with the route. Like the soldiers, the horses had spent most of their lives in the heat of battle. The jungle bordered the battlefield, where combat took place along a dry riverbed scattered with small rocks and sand. The river was flanked by thick jungle. When Nyrothian approached, the sight of the jungle weighed heavily on his heart. It felt as though some force was squeezing his chest mercilessly, for many fallen soldiers were buried beneath its canopy. The area near the river was littered with hundreds of helmets and swords belonging to the martyred warriors.

Chief Commander Kaelor greeted his king, Nyrothian, with great respect. He kneeled before Nyrothian and lowered his head. The king instructed Kaelor to stand, and when he did, Nyrothian embraced him, placing his right hand on the back of Kaelor's head as he praised his bravery. Kaelor stood at an impressive height of 6 feet 6 inches, which made him slightly taller than King Nyrothian. When Kaelor was positioned behind the king, they appeared nearly the same height. Both men were muscular and held mutual respect, with the only difference being their ages: King Nyrothian was in his late thirties, while Kaelor was in his early thirties.

Long ago, when Nyrothian was still a prince accompanied by his guards, he wandered through the markets in search of a gift for his mother, Queen Valeria, for her birthday. The prince was uncertain about what to give her. Suddenly, he heard a commotion. Curious, he followed the noise and discovered a man viciously beating a woman while a 12 or 13-year-old boy attempted to save her. The boy, Kaelor, was silent and resolute, trying to protect his mother from the assailant. The prince noted that the boy seemed unfazed by the violence as if he had witnessed his mother’s struggles many times before. It was a disturbing sight for the kind-hearted prince. Upon inquiring about the situation, he learned that the woman was the widow of a soldier who had served the empire. Nyrothian felt a deep sense of obligation to the soldier who had sacrificed his life for the kingdom, leaving his beloved family destitute and homeless in a land the soldier had fought to protect.

Moved by compassion, Prince Nyrothian decided to offer shelter and employment to the woman in the palace, honoring the memory of her husband. Kaelor, however, was bewildered by this unexpected kindness. It was the first time he had encountered someone offering help without asking for anything in return. Although he felt a glimmer of hope, he couldn’t comprehend why the prince was offering assistance. He only knew that his father must have done something honorable for which the prince felt indebted, but the reasons behind the prince’s generosity remained unclear to him. After all, his father was dead, and neither he nor his mother understood the nature of the debt.

No one knows why Chief of Commanders Kaelor always believed in King Nyrothian, or why King Nyrothian trusted Chief Kaelor so completely. Every order from the king was the final word for the chief, and yet, they could speak openly and passionately with one another. Perhaps only Chief Kaelor and King Nyrothian understand the depth of this bond.

Time moved swiftly; days and nights slipped by without enough rest from battle. The Vyrathian Dominion had suffered such heavy losses that only a handful of soldiers remained. Once again, night fell, and King Nyrothian and Chief Kaelor joined the other members of their army. It was clear this would be their last night, yet there was no sadness in their eyes and no regrets in their hearts. They sang loudly around the bonfire, drinking in celebration, grateful that the gods had granted them the awareness of their final night. They felt fortunate to know it was their last night. 

And then the sun rose…

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