vncnus Chapter 2 Coronation and Prophecy
Chapter 2 Coronation and Prophecy
M30.823, April 22
The coronation ceremony will be held in the central square of the Acropolis, under the watchful gaze of the sacred statue of Athena.
On this day of national celebration, the guards opened up this place, which was of utmost importance to the people of Troy, allowing them to gaze from afar at the new king's ascension to the throne.
The priests, dressed in white robes and wearing laurel wreaths, held sacred fire and golden cups for sacrifice, chanting ancient prayers from Phrygia in deep, solemn voices that echoed between heaven and earth.
The royal guards were all dressed in ancient bronze armor, carrying spears and round shields. The shields were painted with the iconic Trojan sun and lion motifs. The sound of the armor plates clashing together was so uniform that it made the ground tremble slightly.
High Priestess Cassandra, holding the holy anointing in both hands, slowly stepped forward.
The aroma of the sacred anointing mingled with the smoke from the incense burning on the altar, filling the entire square.
There was no boisterous cheering, only a breathless silence from the people.
The nobles stood on both sides, their expressions complex, a mixture of awe, fanaticism, devotion, and hidden ambition and unease.
Troy's wealth fostered ambition and greed among the nobility, but Hector, raised under the red banner, was too powerful to tolerate these filthy parasites feeding on Troy.
They ascended the high platform, standing in a place where every devout Trojan citizen who arrived at the scene could see them.
The broadcasts and screens constantly reported this scene, following Hector and conveying it to every territory belonging to Ilios and to the Trojan civilization.
Paris stood behind his father, Priam, gazing longingly at his brother, who wore a white robe made of tussah silk and wrapped in red and gold satin, his eyes serene and peaceful.
"Father, today will be the most glorious moment, the most important day for the Kingdom of Troy!"
"My brother will surely be the most perfect king in Troy's history; no one could be more perfect than him!"
Priam smiled and gently rubbed Paris's head, but his eyes held a hint of sorrow.
He feared the storm, he feared the prophecy, but history told him that the prophecy could not be changed.
Furthermore, Priam could not do it.
He could not deny Hector's achievements in life because of the prophecy, as a father and as a monarch.
The storm will not stop because people spread the word or because people are afraid.
As Priam pondered this, he smiled, a bitter smile tinged with relief.
"Yes, no one is more perfect than Hector, and no one will ever be more perfect than him."
Hector, unaware of the situation, stood on the high platform, following the ancient Trojan etiquette, before Cassandra, his gaze fixed intently on the woman standing on the steps.
She changed her clothes; the Athena Church's robes, made of wool, were simple yet solemn, and she wore them.
She held the holy anointing in one hand and a branch of olive wood in the other.
Hector noticed that Cassandra's hand, which was holding the olive branch, was trembling in ways that shouldn't be there.
At the same time, Hector also noticed at least three incredibly powerful and intense gazes fixed on him.
The gaze was so intense that when the holy anointing was applied to his forehead, and when Cassandra proclaimed him King of Troy in a trembling voice tinged with fear.
Hector paused for a brief second.
Hector then quickly got up and stepped onto the top step.
In any case, the ceremony must not be defiled.
The throne is made of ebony and gold, and is backed by a giant screen carved with the walls of Troy and the resolute face of Athena.
He reached out and touched the armrest, the cool gemstone embedded in his palm, his gaze subtly sweeping over the three undisguised stares.
The three men looked quite ordinary, dressed in rough linen robes. One of them looked rather old, leaning on a cane that was taller than himself. When the old man looked at him, he tugged at the strip of cloth in front of his lips and nodded slightly.
The man stood tall and straight. No matter how much Hector tried to convince himself that he was just an ordinary Trojan, when his gaze lingered on the bronze-skinned face, he couldn't help but feel a sense of trust and closeness.
The man's eyes were bright and piercing, as fiery as the sun, as awe-inspiring as a deity, but when he looked out and saw all this, there was always an indelible sadness, weariness, and longing in his eyes.
The other person was smiling, but Hector could always sense something was off. Even though he didn't think the other person was malicious, it seemed more like the bitterness and resentment he felt when Paris whipped the servants and divided his favorite cake.
"child······"
He took the pure gold crown, decorated with ivory and glass and topped with a symbol of the sun and the guardian rock, from the chief guard.
Priam, with pride and bitterness, stood before Hector and raised his crown high.
Hector smiled and lowered his head: "Father."
Priam's hands trembled as he thought of the Kingdom of Troy, the prophecy of the previous high priest, and even considered throwing away the crown.
Finally, he looked at Hector, at the child the gods had given him.
Priam's eyes were filled with tears: "I am proud of you."
He loved Hector as much as he loved everything about Troy.
The crown has fallen.
As the crown fell, horns blared throughout the city.
The sound waves shattered the citadel, swept over the city walls, crossed the plains, reached the strait, and reached the starry sky in orbit.
The crowd remained silent, suppressing their emotions. After several dozen seconds, the entire city of Troy finally erupted in a deafening roar.
"Troy!"
"king!"
"Your Majesty Hector!"
"Long live!"
The sounds rose and fell, the temple bells and war drums overlapping, creating a magnificent spectacle. The white warships and the tracks seemed to be the eyes of gods lowering their gaze.
Hector stood up and thanked his father, passing by his father Priam, past Cassandra, and past the noble representatives.
He looked down upon his city-state, upon his people who were embracing and even passionately kissing.
The majestic city walls, the towering towers, the bustling port, the submissive nobles, the beloved subjects—everything was as magnificent as an epic, and everything seemed indestructible.
Hector watched, a strange feeling rising within him. He had expected that damned fantasy would appear and cause him to lose his composure at this crucial moment.
He had made all the necessary preparations; the glory of Troy could not be lost, and the ruler of Troy should be perfect.
But the fantasy didn't materialize; it was as if it were hiding from the world.
Hector took a deep breath.
"People of Troy!"
The sound, carried by the broadcast and communication devices, reached every corner as easily as air.
Hector raised his arms and shouted, "Long live!"
"The glory of Troy will last forever!"
"The glory of Troy endures forever!"
"I hereby swear that I will lead Troy to prosperity!"
"I hereby swear that I will lead the people of Troy to glory!"
"revival!"
"bright!"
……
"Kill her! Brother! Kill this madwoman!"
Cassandra knelt in the Trojan palace, raising her head to look fearlessly into Hector's silent, brown eyes.
Thousands of faint candles flickered gently in the wind, illuminating the bodies of several fallen followers of the Church of Athena.
Frost froze on the faces of the terrified and shocked corpses. Paris angrily stomped on the face of one of the corpses, and the spurting blood splattered onto his bloodshot face.
He raised his short sword high, grabbed Cassandra's raised head with one hand, and waited for Hector's order to personally behead this witch who dared to sow discord among the royal family.
Priam stood in the shadows, looking at his two sons with a sorrowful expression.
"Do you know what you're saying, High Priest?" After a long silence, Hector's deep, suppressed voice echoed in the palace.
There was no passionate emotion, no angry questioning, and no panic over the prophecy.
There was only repression and gloom, like the calm before a storm.
A person's hallucinations and prophecies can be explained by intuition, but when someone wants to emphasize this point...
If someone even makes a hint, it only means that someone is trying to intimidate him, is plotting something, or is trying to take something from him!
Cassandra ignored the stinging pain on her scalp and the gleaming Trojan ceremonial short sword on her right.
Her face showed grief, and a magnanimous and rational respect that Hector had shown for not killing her on the spot but was willing to listen to her explanation; but there was no fear of impending death.
She said, "Troy will prosper under your leadership; you will be the greatest ruler of Troy."
After saying this, Cassandra looked directly into Hector's eyes and remained silent.
Hector listened, not avoiding Cassandra's gaze, and nodded.
"The people of Troy will always be proud of you."
As she spoke, she shut her mouth again.
Paris grabbed her hair and yanked it out, breaking strands and drawing blood from her scalp.
"Speak!" Paris growled in a low voice, like a wounded lion.
He threw the blood-stained hair from his hands to the ground and chased it under his feet in a fit of rage.
Cassandra merely groaned, without uttering any cries of pain or pleas for mercy, and looked into Hector's silent eyes with a pleading expression.
Hector continued nodding.
"Continue, High Priest, get to the bottom of this."
"Your sins are beyond forgiveness: your disrespect and curses against the monarch, your slander and instigation against your brothers."
Kassandra shed two tears: "You will leave Troy and the land of Ilios, for the greater good, under the guidance of your true father, a golden god."
"But after you leave Troy, in the distant future, the kingdom will fall, and brothers will turn against each other."
"The realm of Ilios will be transformed into a green sea of mist, where no living being can find peace."
"I saw the future, I saw prophecies, I saw war, I saw life cut off, I saw..."
"Stop! Paris!"
The sword in Paris's hand was no longer under his control; his eyes were bloodshot, like a berserker who had gone mad on an ancient battlefield.
A flash of cold light appeared on the blade as it slashed down heavily toward Cassandra's shoulder.
The blade slashed down swiftly from one corner of Cassandra's shoulder, but just as it reached her chest, a hand caught the blade.
Hector's grip on the sword was steady.
His voice was steady: "Keep her, Paris."
Paris's eyes were bloodshot and his face was contorted in a ferocious expression.
But when Paris saw his brother's right hand gripping the sword blade, which was oozing a little blood, fear and worry instantly appeared on the face of the handsome fourteen-year-old boy.
Paris quickly released his grip and turned to seek help.
"I'm fine, Paris." Hector put his other arm around Paris, who was constantly apologizing and cursing Cassandra.
"I'm fine."
He looked at his rapidly healing wound and sighed deeply.
"Don't let your emotions destroy you, little brother."
As he spoke, his gaze pierced Cassandra's pleading eyes, and he said coldly:
"Keep her alive, don't kill her."
"I will prove that everything she said is nonsense."
"I will not leave Troy."
"And Troy will only have a better future, and the people of Troy will also have a better future."
"As long as I live, war will not break out on Troy."
"The ridiculous scene of kingdoms falling and brothers killing each other will never happen on this land, and there will never be any divine father."
At this point, Hectorton stopped, his arms tightening around the helpless Paris, his eyes softening as he looked at his father, who seemed to have accepted his fate in the shadows.
I watched him wipe away his tears, looking sorrowful and weak.
Hector made his final assertion:
"I have only one father, and the blood of Priam flows in my veins!"
"Why? Because in this world!"
There is no God!
"Gods are never any more noble than humans!"