Mathias and his brethren, along with the crowd, left with newfound confusion about what had transpired as the unconsciousness queen was safely carried away by her subjects, leaving the rest who had grieved for the man they considered friends.
Solomon was the first to speak as tears dripped down from his eyes, lifting them up to Seth's crucified corpse. "He was like a father to me," he said under his breath, not caring if anyone heard it. "I always wanted to be like him. To do the right thing," he murmured, clenching his fist in despair. "Now he's dead because I was selfish to not realize my wrongdoing," cursing himself for allowing this to happen.
Gus, Solana, and Cyan came up to him with heavy hearts. They saw the boy become silent and distance himself from them. "It wasn't your—" Before Gus could finish his sentence, Solomon turned and stared at him with murderous eyes.
"Every single one of you bastards left him for dead! None of you even tried to stop any of this from happening! Instead, you just stood there and watched him die like a cowardly sheep!" Solomon cried out in rage. He could feel his throat tighten as it constricted his airways, causing his chest to burn while tears ran down his cheeks. "Not only that, many people had died with him!"
Silence filled the air between them, for they knew what he said was the truth. The three of them accepted the guilt and shame from their actions, seeing how they didn't have any right to even be in his presence. Turning his back, Solomon hung his head low, refusing to let anyone see how much pain he was feeling.
His hand then touched his shoulder. "I understand your grief and sorrow, Solomon," Cyan said as she and others had decided to follow him. "We too shared your feelings in regards to this situation," trying her best to provide him with reassurance.
But the boy only pushed her hand away as he turned to face her, glaring at the magician with scorn, "What you could possibly understand from all of this?! You and your friends were responsible for his death, including those people."Tearfully pointing at the nailed corpses, he continues on while turning towards Solana, "How can any of you know how I'm feeling?! How can you tell me it will be okay?!"
Wiping his wet cheeks and snout with the back of his palms, Solomon hung his head downward and looked towards his feet. His eyebrows were furrowed, and he was visibly upset. His whole body shivered. "All of you...are despicable, disgusting, vile, and more than anything else, murderers." Choking back another sob, the young fighter cried in front of the trio.
She hugged herself regretfully, ashamed of her and her companions' deeds. Solana bit her lower lip and inhaled sharply through her nostrils. Closing her eyes for a moment, she opened them again as she tried to speak, but no words could escape her throat.
Gus, seeing this terrible situation, had tried to find a way of defending themselves from this wrongdoing; however, deep down, there is no possible explanation he could ever give to justify their actions, letting defeat take over as he looked at the ground in disgrace.
Among their turmoil, three men, Nicodemus, Philip, and Frank, stood close to the crucified Seth, looking up at him with a sad expression. Expressing their grieving remorse and sorrow for the holy man. They stare at his nailed hands and ankles.
Philip and Nicodemus were one of the few Christians who were willing to show their trust to this very man who proclaimed to be the Son of God. "His dead," was Frank's simple and solemn response, having nothing else to say aside from that.
"He was a great man," Philip announced with sad eyes. "The greatest of us all," he lamented at Seth's dead body. "We should have done something prior to his execution, but just like the rest, we stood idly." He finished with a depressed sigh.
Nicodemus nodded in agreement. "We've committed a terrible sin, brother," he whispered. "This is what happens when we allow ourselves to become fearful of the empire's military and political power," the priest explained in great displeasure. "Now our messiah is dead," he said while staring at Seth's hanging corpse in pure resentment.
"Now what?"
Frank asked the two priests, who shook their heads in uncertainty, not having a clue to what they should do, for they were deeply saddened by the loss of their Messiah. In their minds, the three of them are nothing more than useless individuals who have failed to be there to support the savior in the last moments of his life.
How incompetent and idiotic they have become. They allowed their beloved king to be murdered, and all for what? Because they feared being punished if they objected to Cinder's commands or their own friends who were against the King of Kings himself?
No, they were cowards; that's what they are. They are failures who were unwilling to sacrifice everything to save such a righteous man who is free from sin. What is more tragic than being unable to prevent the death of a loved one is being unable to forgive oneself for failing to act.
Approaching them from their side, John the Baptist, with his wooden staff, walked towards the trio in silence. All three turned to him and gazed into his eyes. His expression was neither one of sadness nor loss, but joy on his face, however much their shock, "salvation has arisen," he revealed while showing a small smile.
Baffled by how the prophet can maintain his optimism after learning of his Lord's demise, he greatly angered them. "How dare you!" Frank greeted his teeth, pointing his finger at the old man with disdain. "Can't you see what happened?! Our Lord is dead!" He pointed out the obvious thing that was in front of them.
Raising his wooden staff in front of his body, John shook his head. "Do not fret about His loss; the Lord will rise soon enough to make him shine brighter than the sun itself," he answered while giving them a reassuring smile, causing further anger in Frank and Nicodemus altogether.
Before another argument could start, Philip then asked a peculiar question: "How did you know he was the Son of God?" I am curious to know if this elderly preacher has any ties or knowledge in regards to the aftermath of this horrific situation that befalls them.
John smiled and then pointed upwards to the blue morning sky. "God had shown me of the time he will rise from the dead," his answer baffled them, for they thought the old man was lying, and thus, the three men turned to each other with puzzling stares.
"Do you think this old nut is crazy?" Frank inquired, wanting to get more information and clarify if John is telling the truth or simply playing mind games with the three of them, "Does he honestly believe that he was shown by God to foretell of our friend's resurrection?" He added in complete doubtfulness.
While Nicodemus was conflicted by all of this, Philip found some merit in this conversation: "Why don't we ask him?" He suggested, catching the other two by surprise, "Perhaps the Lord gave him a vision in order to prove us his divinity?" I wonder if God still sees their struggle; it could be a sign of hope and salvation itself.
Frank crossed his arms and looked down at his feet before glancing at the crucified messiah and asking, "How long until he rises?" He queried the strange prophet, wanting to get to the bottom of this mystery once and for all, as he was eager to see if this was just a fluke.
Lowering his staff, "in a few days," was the prophet's answer: "For the moment, we must give him a proper barrier." He mentioned the funeral with the rest of the congregation to prepare his body; "an honorable grave must be given as well as prayers of mourning and honor to his holiness," John declared.
Mysterious woman suddenly announced her presence from behind them. "I know a place," causing the four men to quickly turn their attention to her. "There is a beautiful resting place not far from here," she said while looking towards Seth's crucified body with deep sorrow on her pretty face.
They look at each other in bewilderment, as none of them recognizes the mysterious woman who was holding a white blanket with both of her hands. Especially how she appeared out of nowhere,Who are you? We've never seen you before," Nicodemus questioned, wondering who she is and if she's connected to the Christian faith in any way, shape or form.
Taking a few steps forward, the mysterious woman answered, "I am Muriel, his mother." Immediately, the four widened their eyes in shock at her bold statement. Not only that, but she does not look older enough to have given birth to a grown man. "That cannot be, for you do not look like the Lord's mother," Philip pointed out, finding it difficult to believe her claims. "Moreover, you don't share some similarities with Seth. Surely, you're mistaken," he said in denial, trying to reason with this mysterious woman.
However, John the Baptist knelt on the ground. "It is an honor to meet you, the one who brought salvation into our lives," he bowed his head before her with reverence, "bless you for being chosen as the Mother of the King of Kings," offering her respect for her position in regards to her divine relationship with the Lord of Lords.
Muriel smiled sweetly while looking down at the kind, elderly man before nodding in acknowledgment. "While I am not his biological mother, I'm still his mother nonetheless," she remarked. Bowing her head in sympathy, she turns her focus towards the dead, holy man's crucifixion. "Bring him down." Tears then begin to form from her blue eyes. "And give him the proper burial worthy of his status and divinity," she requested of them.
They agreed to this request, "with honor," the four men said in unison while bowing their heads in reverence for the deceased and his mother. The unknown woman looked up at Seth's crucifixion once more before closing her eyes in sadness as the warm tears rolled down from them.
Her lips trembled as she took a deep breath in an effort to control herself from collapsing onto the ground and letting out loud sobs that would attract more attention from the gathering people. As the four men began their work of preparing for Seth's upcoming funeral, Muriel stayed behind, hiding her trembling hands.
Baring her teeth, she closed her eyes despite the tears still coming out like a waterfall while grasping the soft cloth with intense force as if trying to rip it apart with sheer strength alone: "My son, my beautiful child who brings love into this world and spreads his wisdom throughout humanity..." With her mind being full of emotions of sadness, anger, and even regret, it made it impossible to keep herself together.
"Hey! What are you doing here?"
Solomon's voice from behind her brought the woman out of her thoughts, prompting the woman to quickly force herself into maintaining composure, turning around to face them with a smile and saying, "Hello!" Putting up a forced smile, "I'm Muriel, Seth's mother," she answered, getting another shocked reaction from them.
Hearing that, Gus moved his legs and walked towards her in haste before dropping his knees onto the ground, lowering his legs and hands onto the dirt while his face was near the grass surface. "No words can express our serene apology for taking part in this crucifixion." He apologized sincerely. "If there's anyway of atoning for our sins, we will gladly do whatever it takes," Gus offered himself and the others.
She slowly breathed in through her nostrils, closing her eyes as she took a few moments to relax herself, releasing the tension before opening them again, revealing her beautiful diamond-colored irises. "If you truly wish to seek Seth's forgiveness, then help us give a proper burial to my son."
"I shall do it!"
"After that," she said, turning around to the hundreds of crucified prisoners that had died and believed in her sweet son, "I want you to also bury these people with honor. Make sure they are treated properly as if they were royalty themselves," she ordered them sternly.
