Chapter Text
The Rapture had happened while the Copper King was away. He was already somewhat detached from the rest of the world, but he at least still interacted with the various empires. However, the Vigil had called to him. It had given him a mission to carry out. Sudden, and secret. He couldn’t tell anyone about it. The Vigil’s magic was fading, and the candles and lanterns around it were losing their light. It was because of this, that the Copper King had to travel far out, in order to locate the Vigil’s hidden temples. The temples and shrines that were built by the Vigil’s previous acolytes and prophets.
It was almost fitting that current Great Emperor had banned the use of Elytra, when the King got his mission. The long and arduous mission would have to be a trek on foot, as a way to connect with the earth from where all life stems from and would return. The mission required that the acolyte only travel via nature, therefore elytra and rockets would not count. If it was raining, he would be allowed to travel with his trident. Harnessing the power of the weather and the elements around him, but other than that, he would have to travel by himself with no external help.
The Copper King travelled for days and days, finding more and more hidden temples to further fuel the Vigil’s life. He would activate each shrine and each temple, as required. Lighting a candle along the way to signify the life returned to where it belonged, before moving on.
The King was curious as to what was happening back home, but he was so far out that he couldn’t feasibly get any information. He suspected the crown had moved on from the Ruler of Rivendell. The Codfather had lost it fairly quickly, and the King was more inclined to think that the Rivendell King would keep it longer. He did however give a rather harsh rule, ‘no elytra’ was a high impact law, so maybe people were more inclined to dethrone him, than they were with the Codfather. The Copper King was excited to return home to his friends and catch up on all that he had missed. He only had a couple more temples to find, then he could return the Vigil to its rightful glory and get back to civilization.
The final shrine the King found was also in a desert, the same as the very first he uncovered just a bit outside of his empire. This shrine, however, was far, far away from his beloved Pixandria. It was buried deep in the sand, only found by a single, inconspicuous spire, that was just barely poking out of the dunes. He dug down, trying to find the temple so he could relight the Flame to the Vigil. Though, when he finally excavated the opening, what he found wasn’t a Vigil shrine, or even a temple, like the rest. It looked exactly like the very first mysterious shrine he found. The thunder shrine. It had the same circular mural, with the golden ring surrounding a diamond block. The same stalagmites coming up from the ground. It even had the same sacrificial altar, although… As the Copper King looked closer, the altar wasn’t exactly the same. Where before there had been a pedestal with magical runes floating into it, here there was a sort of bowl, almost like the baptismal fonts the King had seen throughout his life.
The Copper King got a weird feeling from the font. This wasn’t the same as the Vigil’s temples and shrines, but the Vigil had led him here, so he must be at the right place. Stepping up to the bowl, he got the intense feeling that he needed to fill it with water. Taking out his water bucket, he carefully poured the water in, noting with wonder that the water began to become clearer, as if it purified just by the mere touch of the bowl. It was almost sparkling, reflecting the small light around the shrine. As the last drop hit, filling the bowl to the brim, something began to happen. The water inside began to swirl. The King looked deep into the swirling water, trying to decipher what was happening, when suddenly images began to appear in the ripples.
He saw the land, his world, the place where all his friends and their empires were. But it was wrong. There was chaos all around. He saw his allies the Count of the Grimlands and the Codfather, gathering inside the Count’s forge, before the scene switched to a giant explosion. After, more and more visions of his friends’ empires, all in various stages of disruption, appeared. Earthquakes and ravines in House Blossom, fire in Gilded Helianthia, the Ocean and the Swamp Empires lost their water, and so much more. The Copper King felt devastated watching this. All his friends and allies suffering a Rapture while he was away, unable to help.
The King instinctively knew the visions were true. He couldn’t tell why, but he knew these visions were not fake. The Copper King knelt at the shrine and prayed to the Vigil, hoping for answers to his friends’ troubles. The Vigil didn’t answer for a long time, leaving the King to despair in his thoughts. Wondering if his friends were okay, wondering if he could have done something to help them. They were suffering, and he was miles away, unable to help, on a quest for a god who wouldn’t answer his pleas, his prayers. If only he had been there-
At that, the Copper King felt the Vigil. It called to him, telling him that he would not have been at the Rapture to help the other emperors. The Vigil had felt the End was coming, and to protect its prophet had called for the mission. The mission wasn’t useless, it assured him, the candles needed to be lit, the Vigil’s power was actually fading, the Vigil just saw a coincidence to keep its prophet safe, and to regain its power.
The Emperors were doomed to fail, but I couldn’t let you suffer with them. You are too important, my Prophet.
The Copper King was furious. How dare the Vigil take him away from friends in their time of need, and what of his own kingdom? Would Pixandria fall to the Rapture as well, without their king there to reassure and protect them? The king was distraught and frightened. He could have helped, he could have been there, going down with his friends. Together. Instead, the Copper King was here. Alone. In the middle of nowhere, at a shrine that told him of the terrors he could not prevent. Helpless to his friends’ demise.
“I am not your prophet. Not anymore.” Came from the King. “Not since you doomed me, away from my friends. I have served you; I have done everything you have asked of me, yet I will do so no longer. You have your power back, enough to keep the world going without further disasters in Death’s realm, but I will no longer be serving you. I prevented the Chaos that would spread if your power diminished, yet I was not there to help with the Chaos that spread for my friends. My Home.”
With that, the Copper King felt his connection to the Vigil break. He had renounced his patron, his God. He felt empty, no longer having that innate feeling inside of him that tied him to the Vigil. But he did not regret his action. His friends were gone, their kingdoms in ruin, torn apart by a force so powerful even the Vigil feared it. The Copper King left the shrine, began his trek back to his kingdom to see the damage that was caused. The havoc that had been wrecked in his absence.
After his journey, the Copper King arrived at his empire. His wonderful Pixandria, with the sandstone buildings and its copper details, with the conduit lights shining on the road, and the Anthill in the background. There didn’t seem to be any physical damage to his empire, everything left exactly as he remembered it. Maybe that was what was wrong. It was the same, just as he left it. Abandoned. His people must have fled in the wake of the Rapture, without their King there to protect them. No physical damage had befallen his empire, but damage had occurred. An emotional wound so deep. The people feeling abandoned by the one who should have been there to take care of them. To protect them. And he had failed. All the times it actually mattered, the Copper King had disappointed his people. He had had a hand in killing the dragon protecting the End, and now he had left his people in their most dire time of need.
The Copper King wandered around his abandoned kingdom. His child. He ended up at the Vigil, lanterns still floating around in the sky, yet the light of the candles felt off. Instead of their usual orangey hue, they seemed brighter, almost blue. Like that of the Soul Fires. His friends were truly gone then, weren’t they. Everyone might not be dead, but their souls were certainly gone. The King fell to his knees and wept. He wept for his friends, who he did not even get to say goodbye to. For his kingdom, who must have thought he abandoned them. But also, for himself.
He was here now, all alone in the world. The Copper King knew what had happened to him. He might have renounced the Vigil, but he was still its prophet at heart. He had once been devoted, once sought to do it’s every bidding, be its vessel. That changes a person. The King might have renounced, but the Vigil had not. Their bond was severed on his side, but the Vigil had not, and so he still had its Gift. He was still Immortal.
The Copper King solemnly removed the crown from atop his head. He did not deserve to be considered a King. He had, however inadvertently, abandoned his kingdom and all his friends. He did not deserve to wear this crown, to bear that title. He placed the crown in front of his own candles on the Vigil. Their lights being the only ones still flickering with the warm orange light. Unchanged, still with a soul intact. He rose, and then began to look around the world he abandoned in its time of need.