The Legend of Emperor Honux the Lonely

The story of Honux the lonely

It is said that an Aseon lives four lives. The first he lives for his family, his friends and his house. The second he lives for his country, his duty and his people. The third he lives for his village, his responsibility and his legacy. The last he lives for the gods, the forest and the soil in which he lays.

Honux was a simple man, a farmer at the edge of the sleeping forest. The land of West Emriel was war-torn, many local lords desperately tried to get control of whatever valuable land was available. His parents had already died from disease a decade ago. He was on his 35th summer and had a young son and beautiful wife. Since the large shortages of food, Honux could sell what food he grew from his orchard for a lot and because of it never had to worry about starving.

In the sea of destruction, the orchard of Honux was calm.

Yet nothing lasts forever, the storm moves and Honux’ calm was engulfed in destruction, death and misery. An attack. Hunger bandits. When out on the far-side of his orchard, they came. Famine pushed them to desperation, killing any in their path to a stomach’s full. They had no heed for any other desires, no other thoughts. All they wanted was food.

But their desperation made them little more than savage beasts. By the time Honux got back, his food was stolen, and his wife and son lay dead at his feet. Overcome by grief he carried their bodies to the forest’s edge and pleaded to the forest gods.

“Bring them back to life!” He screamed, endlessly bawling his lungs out.

A man that had build up his place in the world for 35 years, working, surviving, loving. Within one day all that effort was lost, 35 years’ worth of life was all for naught. He lived for his family yet that was now gone. His house was still standing but without his family it was not his home. It was not a place he wanted to return to.

But then his gaze faced the forest. It called to him, he didn’t hear it, he didn’t see it, but he felt it. It wanted him to venture into it. Honux carried the two dead bodies of his wife and son into the forest. With one last look over his shoulder he took in the sight of what he once called home.

He did not know what the forest would bring him, but he knew that the life he once lived was over.

‘When destiny calls, the chosen have no choice.’

He walked, he walked, and walked. He walked till his feet started bleeding. Yet for all he walked, he never heard a sound of the forest. No birds, no creaking of trees, no wild animals roaming around. He only heard his deep breaths and his footsteps. The more he walked the louder his breaths became.

When his legs finally gave in, he collapsed at an open spot in the forest. Though this spot was not empty. But for Honux it did not matter. He lay on the ground eyes slowly closing. Going into a deep slumber and the only thing he heard was his heavy breathing.

Too tired to lift even a finger, tired enough to sleep for a century, tired enough to forget his loss. Almost.

When he woke up the bodies of his wife and son were gone. Honux instantly shot into panic at the realization. Though before he could realize where they could have gone, he came face to face with an enormous creature. Gargantuan, scaled and horned. He jumped up ready to defend himself from this horrific beast.

The beast did not move. Neither did it seem alive. Now that he took a closer look at his surroundings, he saw that he found himself in some sort of large stone temple. With the beast in the centre of it. It was built in an architecture he did not know. He had never seen stone this smooth before. Though it must have been even smoother as he saw weathering.

The temple was either relatively new or it was so advanced and magical that it only showed its age after millennia.

He never heard of such a temple being build and he lived as close to the forest as a person can. That reminded him. Where were his wife and son? He looked around. Nothing. He walked around and finally saw their bodies laying on an altar in front of the creature.

Honux quickly rushed over. The moment he lay a hand on the altar, a vision entered his mind. A vision of victory, of glory, of peace. Of Honux standing in front of a massive crowd. Of baring his large canine fangs. As the race of Aseons do when they achieve victory. One word came into his mind during the vision: Chosen.

Would him being chosen bring peace to the land? What does it mean?

‘Only through fire is a strong sword forged.’

The suffering must end, Western Emriel needed prosperity once again. Honux felt that he was the chosen one that could achieve this goal. So that nobody would be lonely like him. Without family.

He buried his wife and son on the top of a hill just outside the stone temple. He did so with tears and his lingering frustration of his helplessness. Nobody should be alone like him, to go through what he has. That day, at the graves of his wife and children, with the beast of the forest as his witness he vowed to do his duty as the chosen of the forest.

Though unbeknownst to Honux, the beast had one eye open looking at him during his vow.

During his visit at the temple, he found a set of Katars, the favoured weapon of the Aseons. He had no experience with the like, since that would be reserved for his second life when he would reach his 60th summer. The life in which an Aseon would become a warrior.

Though when he held the weapons in his hands, whole swathes of memories and information stormed into his head. Memories of death, lost technologies, war, tactics, misery, extinction and lastly what he could only describe as gods. With all these things filling his head it felt like it could split in two. He fell and rolled on the ground in agony. It seemed to take hours, yet it was only moments.

Finally, the Katars calmed down, now he knew their true name and the centuries of history they brought.

Honux started walking back out of the forest. With one last look over his shoulder he looked back at the graves of his family and the temple next to it. The beast still paying him no heed. Though he now knew why he heard the breathing so loudly when he entered the forest. That’s because it was not his breathing, nor was it the forest itself.

Honux knew what he must do and what burden he must carry. The wisdom of the ages comes at a price. The price of his very vow, he may never love again. He may never love woman nor man. He may never love others as friends, nor may he love them as dear ones. For his love will be to the nation he will build. In this empire in which everyone will love him, he may never love anyone back.

In his vision of the future, the realm will be at peace, and the people happy, but Honux will be the only to be truly alone.

‘Crowns are inherited, kingdoms are earned.’

When he finally walked out of the forest, in which he felt he had resided for years, he found himself in the middle of a battlefield. Death and disease was all around him. Though when he held his Katars in the air and the light shone on the hill he stood, everyone stopped for a moment.

All looked in awe as they saw this legendary person. In that moment Honux’ will reverberated through every Aseon on that battlefield. And every single one knew that this fight was senseless. It was petty. They were just following the orders of nobles and lords that had not a single good intention.

It was now known that Honux would be the saviour of Western Emriel, that he would be ruler by right, for he sacrificed everything, to gain everything.

Honux went on to be a beloved ruler and a benevolent emperor. In the next decades he conquered the evil and decadent warlords and convinced the willing and just rulers to join him. He unified the whole of Western Emriel that was inhabited by Aseons under his empire. He even crossed the pass to Eastern Emriel and brought peace and prosperity there.

The People were happy and well-fed. Wherever Honux walked the harvests and game would be plentiful. Citizens of his new empire, Singilias, celebrated his rule. Statues were erected in his name. Festivals and schools were dedicated to him. Honux was satisfied with his rule.

Honux held his promise, he never loved anyone again.

He had no heirs, and his days were soon over. Once he reached his 140th summer he made one last journey. He looked back over his shoulder at the new capital he made and the many happy citizens that lived in it. He travelled across the country and returned to the forest. He entered it, recognizing the breathing he heard, all too well.

Once he arrived at the temple, he saw that the beast’s eyes were open and looking at him. Honux lay the set of Katars on the altar. “Thank you for letting me use them, old friend. My vow is kept, I’ve come to live my last life.” He sat himself down on the hill in which he buried his wife and son and sat there till his spirit left his body.

Now he lay in the ground next to his family, reunited, alone no more.