King Jerald was taken into his chambers and placed on the bed comfortably and tucked in.
"Father, are you dying?" Lotus asked.
"How come you always ask the dumbest questions?" Nephius countered.
"Yes, I'm dying, Nephius, your brother is right," King Jerald replied.
The room became quiet. The celebratory smiles were wiped off all their faces.
"Come here all of you," King Jerald urged.
"But father, you can't die, not when we are winning this battle," Nephius said with tears running down his cheeks.
"Yes, we should ask that thing down in the dungeon to give you life. If it can defeat Clarris, it can do anything," Lotus added.
"Nothing comes for free in this life, my sons. Your mother and I have lived for centuries to understand that," he stated while looking at Rachel, who was standing near the window.
"But Dad, you are cursed. How is it possible that you can die?" A very confused Barrick asked?
"Everyone take a seat." The sixth brother moved forward with teary eyes and sat on the bed.