The news of Lucian's passing swept through the empire like a silent storm, carried on the wings of whispers and carried by messengers to the farthest reaches of his realm. It was a quiet, solemn affair, befitting the man he had been in his final days—humble, withdrawn, a shadow of the force of nature that had once bent the world to his will.
No fanfare announced his death. There were no proclamations or grand displays of mourning. Instead, the people felt his loss like a collective exhale, a deep, aching emptiness that settled into the bones of the empire. For many, it was as if a guiding star had been extinguished from the sky, leaving them to navigate by the light of the legacy he had left behind.
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