World of ruin

Sebastian scoffed softly to himself as he gazed at the child in his arms, pondering the weight of his newfound role.

"So this is how it feels to be a child of God once more," he murmured, shaking his head in disbelief. He went back inside his house, where the quiet stillness seemed to echo in the emptiness of the crumbled world outside. The fire was out, and the walls that once held warmth and joy were now silent, bearing the weight of the tragedies that had befallen his land.

He looked at the child again, his gaze softening. "What should your name be?" Sebastian pondered aloud.

He thought of the legacy of his fallen comrades, the names they once carried, the purpose they had fought for. And then, as though the answer had always been there, he spoke clearly, his voice steady.

"Isiah," he declared. "From this day onwards, your name shall be Isiah Nolvastia, one born from Heaven."

With the name given, a weight seemed to lift from Sebastian's shoulders. He moved about the house, gathering what little he had, the smell of old wood and the dampness of the forest creeping through the cracks in the walls. He gently cradled Isiah, his thoughts once again turning to the unknown fate ahead of them.

Meanwhile, in the grand palace of Egress, Jonathan prepared for war. Before leading his soldiers out, he felt compelled to visit his mother one last time. The heavy, looming responsibility of leadership weighed upon him, but the moment of vulnerability with his family reminded him of his human side, the part of him that had once been a child.

He approached the queen's chambers where four guards stood watch. They stepped aside as Jonathan entered, and there, before him, sat his mother—her face soft with serenity as she sang a lullaby to his youngest brother

Jonathan paused, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He watched her for a moment, the sight of her humming softly as she rocked the baby in her arms bringing a rare peace to his heart amidst the storm of war that awaited him.

He knelt before her, his voice thick with emotion. "Mother, I will go to war today. I don't know how long I'll be gone for."

There was a hesitation in his voice, a brief, almost imperceptible crack in his usually unshakable demeanor. His next words were heavier.

"I might not make it back... Please, take care of Johan and my youngest brother."

His mother smiled softly, a mixture of pride and sorrow etched across her face. She reached out and placed a gentle hand on his head, a maternal touch that spoke volumes without words.

"You know," she said quietly, "you used to be the crybaby of the family, but now, what I see before me is a strong king who fights for his people."

She paused, letting her hand rest on his shoulder before speaking again, more firmly.

"Fight for the people you wish to protect, Jonathan. Lead them to salvation."

The words lingered between them, and Jonathan, feeling the weight of his mother's love and support, nodded.

"Mother," he said softly, his heart full of resolve. "May I please know the name of my youngest brother?"

The queen's eyes softened even further as she gazed down at the child in her arms. "His name is Jacob," she replied with warmth.

Jonathan smiled at the name. "I like that name," he said, his voice filled with quiet fondness.

He rose and turned to leave, but before he could step away, he felt his mother's gaze follow him. The weight of her emotion was palpable in the room, and as he crossed the threshold, he heard her voice again, softer this time.

"Almighty, please keep my son from harm. Let him return home safe."

Jonathan stopped in his tracks, his heart tightening at the sound of her prayer. But without looking back, he continued on his way, knowing that this moment would stay with him long after he left the palace behind.

As he moved through the halls, he made his way to his brother Johan, who was busy organizing the kingdom's finances. The room was filled with the rustling of parchment and the clinking of coins, yet the atmosphere felt strangely light. Johan looked up as Jonathan entered and gave him a wry smile.

"Well, brother," Jonathan said, his voice teasing, "you seem quite busy."

Johan chuckled softly. "Of course I'm busy, brother. Someone has to handle the financial state while the brute goes to war."

Jonathan laughed, a brief respite from the heaviness that hung over them. "Am I supposed to be the brutal one?"

Johan stood from his chair and crossed the room to his brother, wrapping him in a brief hug. "Good luck, brother."

Jonathan embraced him, his voice steady. "No luck needed. Did you forget we do God's will? That alone shall guide us."

With one last, lingering look at his brother, Jonathan turned and left the palace, stepping into the cold air that met him outside. His soldiers were gathered, awaiting his command, and with one final glance at the kingdom he was sworn to protect, Jonathan gave the order to march.

Meanwhile, in the forest, Sebastian carried the child Isiah through the darkened woods. The air was thick with silence, broken only by the occasional cry of the child in his arms. Isiah's cries grew louder, more desperate, and Sebastian's heart twisted with uncertainty. He glanced around, wondering what was wrong. He could not see food, nor could he find anything to comfort the baby.

Then, as though guided by some unseen force, a voice whispered softly to him.

"Walk forward."

Sebastian hesitated for a moment, but the strange compulsion urged him onward. With each step, the light in the distance grew brighter, and soon he found himself in a place that seemed like a dream. The forest gave way to a clearing, and there, standing tall and magnificent, was a tree unlike any he had ever seen. Its wood was white as bone, its leaves a deep green, and from its branches hung golden fruit that glowed in the twilight.

Sebastian fell to his knees in awe, his eyes wide with wonder. "What is this?" he whispered, unable to comprehend what he was seeing.

The voice spoke again, gentle and guiding. "Pluck the fruit from the tree, and feed it to the child."

Without hesitation, Sebastian reached up and plucked a golden fruit from the tree, his hands trembling. He carefully fed it to Isiah, and the baby's cries immediately ceased. A sense of peace washed over Sebastian, as though the very world around him had shifted.

For a moment, all was calm. But then, Sebastian's stomach growled, and the voice instructed him to hunt for food.

With a sigh, Sebastian pulled his sword from his pelt, and after much effort, he managed to catch a small fish from a nearby pond. The struggle for food was taxing, but when he finally returned, he was greeted with a sight that made his heart skip a beat.

Angels, three in number, hovered around Isiah. They were anointing his tiny head, their movements delicate, graceful as they danced around him. Sebastian stood frozen in awe. He had witnessed many strange and terrifying things, but this... this was something far beyond anything he had known.

The angels vanished as quickly as they had appeared, and Sebastian scoffed softly, a bittersweet chuckle escaping his lips. "What kind of man will Isiah grow to be?" he wondered aloud.

He made a fire, his hands steady as he prepared his meal. The small fish tasted better than anything he had ever eaten, and the sense of fullness that followed filled him with a quiet satisfaction. As the night wore on, he lay down beside Isiah, cradling the child as he fell asleep.

When he woke, the world had shifted again. The tree that had once been so vibrant and full of life was now withered and ordinary, its golden fruit no longer hanging from its branches. Sebastian sat up, rubbing his eyes in disbelief.

"What kind of place was that?" he whispered. "Just what fate does this boy hold?"

And as he gazed out at the darkened forest once more, he knew that his journey—Isiah's journey—had only just begun.

This continued passage further explores Sebastian's spiritual and emotional growth as he embraces his role as Isiah's protector, while also following Jonathan's departure to war, leaving behind a legacy of duty and faith.