I nod, blinking tears. The crowd’s roar fades to a hush, Freedmen bowing their heads in respect, crafters doffing hats,city guards saluting once more. Mira and I stand at the forum’s peak, a battered pair who risked everything. The final conflict is done. The future beckons, uncertain but brimming with promise.
With a gesture, I invite Freedmen up the steps, letting them fill the dais that used to be reserved for high senators. They surge forward, tentatively climbing, eyes wide at the symbolic reversal. The crowd breaks into applause at the sight: Freedmen occupying the very space from which they’d been barred. My heart stirs with a deep sense of rightness. They deserve this moment, the city witnessing their rightful place in shaping Milthar’s destiny.
Ortem cedes the dais gracefully. Senators shuffle aside, some clapping uncertainly. Freedmen carefully stand there, not to proclaim dominion, but to represent the people who’ve long been silenced. The image sears into my mind as a new dawn for Milthar—no more illusions.
A Freedman elder steps forward, voice trembling with emotion, “We vow not to repeat the Senate’s arrogance. We’ll hear crafters, city guards, all who call Milthar home. This city belongs to all, not just a privileged few.”
The crowd roars in agreement, crafters raising fists, city watch thumping spear butts on the ground. My chest floods with pride. I see tears in Mira’s eyes. She leans against me. “You did this,” she whispers, voice thick. “You gave Freedmen the courage to stand as equals.”
I bow my head, feeling unworthy of such credit. “Mira, you’re the heart of it, too. You refused to bow when they called you a spoil. Freedmen saw your defiance, realized their own power.”
She brushes a tear from her cheek, eyes never leaving Freedmen on the dais. “Then we both built this, champion.”
My breath hitches at her calling me champion. I let it stand, not as an official title but an intimate recognition of whatwe fought for. The forum remains electric with conversation, Freedmen greeting crafters, city watchers exchanging laughs about how no champion seat can overshadow Freedmen’s unity. Senators ring the edges, some contrite, others relieved they survived Vaelen’s downfall.
Slowly, Freedmen approach us, hands extended in thanks. We exchange embraces, respectful bows. Some crafters break out clay flasks of celebratory drink, passing them around. The murmur of relief, exhaustion, and newborn hope ripples through the crowd like a gentle tide. I sense my battered body nearing its limit, the wounds pounding. But my spirit soars.
Eventually, with the official business concluded—Vaelen’s conspirators hauled off, Freedmen recognized in public, orc infiltration staved off Mira and I slip away from the crowd. Freedmen happily let us pass, promising to send a detail of watchers with me. But I wave them off gently, craving a private moment of reflection with her. We move through the forum’s colonnade, the columns adorned with fresh garlands from crafters celebrating Freedmen’s victory. The city hums behind us, abuzz with the knowledge that no single seat can control it now.
We emerge onto a quieter side street, leading to a marble walkway overlooking the harbor. The sea breeze tangles Mira’s hair; she inhales the salt air with a sigh. I limp slightly, ignoring the dull burn in my thigh. She notices, guiding me to a low bench near an ornate balustrade. We settle side by side, hearts still racing from the morning’s resolution.
She turns, face laden with relief and warmth. “Your vow to remain Freedman, rather than rejoin the Senate, took courage.”
I exhale slowly. “Titles cost me everything once. Freedmen’s respect, forged in truth, is worth more than champion’s rank.” My voice wavers, recalling the day they stripped me of myhammer. Yet Freedmen’s acceptance overshadowed that blow, giving me a deeper purpose.
She rests a hand on my knee, gaze tender. “You never needed a seat of power to lead. You only needed your principles.”
For a moment, I bask in her admiration, letting the hush of the harbor envelop us. Milthar’s skyline rises to our left, columns and spires reflecting new unity. Freedmen bustle in the distance, likely preparing for a city meeting that will rewrite the old laws. I can almost feel the city’s heartbeat, steady and strong.
I swallow past a tangle of emotions. “Mira, thank you for never letting them break you. If you hadn’t fought their attempts to brand you a spoil, Freedmen might never have found their voice.”
Her cheeks color faintly, eyes bright. “Truth is, I found my strength in you. In Freedmen’s unwavering conviction. Part of me thought I was alone, but you showed me otherwise.”
My chest tightens. I long to pull her close, confess every tangled thread of devotion. We overcame so many obstacles: orc captivity, Senate betrayal, forced “spoils,” political manipulations. Standing here, battered but victorious, I can’t help but reflect on how essential she’s become, how I can’t imagine a future without her by my side.
She senses my tension. Her hand moves to my cheek, gentle. “You’re free now. Freedmen, the city, even the Senate can’t command you. What do you want next?”
The question echoes with quiet weight. Once, I wanted champion’s glory. Then, I wanted to save Freedmen from Vaelen’s tyranny. We’ve done that. The orc threat recedes. Freedmen stand recognized. The city merges into a mosaic of new possibilities. I meet her gaze, voice husky. “I want to stand with you, build a future that’s ours. Freed from illusions, bound by choice.”
A shiver passes through her. She leans in, pressing her forehead to mine. “Then let’s do it together. Milthar or beyond. Wherever Freedmen need us.”
My heart thrums with the magnitude of her trust. I brush a tentative kiss across her brow, feeling her breath hitch. The city recedes around us as we share a long, quiet embrace, hearts pounding in relief, love, and possibilities. The breeze carries a faint tang of ocean brine, stirring memories of how we once battled in an arena, how I nearly lost everything to keep her free.
She pulls back, voice soft. “The city expects us to help guide Freedmen’s new place. But that doesn’t mean we must remain anchored to politics. Some Freedmen might unify well without a single champion.”
I nod, letting my hand rest atop hers. “We can watch from within the city, ensure Freedmen and crafters shape laws fairly. If we sense it drifting, we nudge them back. But maybe we belong on the roads, forging alliances with other enclaves. The world is vast, and Freedmen’s example might spread.”
She beams, tears pricking her eyes. “That’s exactly what I hoped we’d do. Travel as free souls, building bridges but never letting illusions claim us again.”
Warmth surges, overshadowing the pain in my leg. Freed from champion’s rank, from Senate mandates, we can carve our own path. Freedmen are strong enough to stand on their own now. The city acknowledges them. Perhaps it’s time for Mira and me to taste the open seas Milthar is famed for, forging a fresh start. My heart leaps at the prospect of exploring new lands with her, returning to Milthar when needed.
A slight cough behind us startles me. Tila stands at a polite distance, Freedman spear in hand. She dips her head. “Remanos, Mira—the crowd still lingers, hoping you’ll address them once more before we disperse. Some crafters talk about forming a Freedmen’s council. They want your blessing.”
Mira and I look at each other with amused, fond looks. I chuckle, patting Tila’s arm. “We’ll come. Freedmen can lead themselves, but if they want a final word from us, I can’t deny them.”
She grins. “We’ll gather them in the forum.” Then Tila hurries off.
I stand slowly, ignoring the stab of pain. Mira steadies me with a hand at my elbow. “Let’s do this.” She smiles, helping me limp back through the winding alley toward the forum. As we approach, Freedmen greet us with spontaneous cheers, guiding us to a makeshift dais set amid the crowd. The dais is a simple wooden platform crafters threw together, decorated with fresh garlands. Senators stand aside, overshadowed by Freedmen’s presence—a living sign that the old order kneels to the new.
