A Sacred Claim
236 Words
Ignoring the growing spectacle, Valerius knelt in the slush. He didn't care about his bespoke suit or the freezing mud. He reached out, his large, scarred hand hovering near Elara’s face before gently cupping her jaw. The contact was electric. At his touch, the "long suffering" that had lived in Elara’s bones for years seemed to evaporate, replaced by a surge of warmth so intense it felt like a homecoming.
"I have looked for you across three borders, Elara," he whispered, his eyes searching hers with a depth of "unresistance attention" that made her world tilt. He didn't see the dirt on her face or the rags she wore; he saw the "God-like" aura that was now radiating from her in waves of violet light. "They told me you were hidden. They told me you were suppressed. They lied."
Elara’s breath hitched. "Who... who are you?"
"I am the answer to every prayer you never dared to speak," he replied. He stood up, and with a strength that seemed effortless, he lifted her into his arms. She felt small against his massive frame, yet for the first time in twenty-four years, she felt invincible. He turned to face the cameras, the Palace, and the trembling figures of Marcus and Sofia.
"Tonight, the law of men ends," Valerius announced, his voice booming like a bell. "And the reign of the Queen begins."
- Writer
