(Scars do not appear to be cause of death –shock ... - Bad Request

"He rules because he must."
"But if he's dead... how?"
"We interpret the wishes of the Silent King based on what he said many long
years ago. It has not been easy..." Hargrimm sounded tired; he sagged
beneath the weight of an invisible burden. "Many questions, many
questions do I have for him."
I looked up to Hargrimm. So this was the true power behind the Dead
Nations. I should've been appealing to him instead of trying to meet an
unseen king. "So you are the one who truly rules here, Hargrimm."
It looked to Stale Mary, "Mary and I speak to the Silent King. We rule in his
stead."
"Why don't you tell your people the truth?"
The priest sighed. The ache of centuries living weighed upon it, and while
Hargrimm seemed meek and defeated, I knew he still lived to work towards
a greater purpose. "I wish to preserve what we have created. I do not wish
to die."
Stale Mary spoke, her voice ponderous: "Nuh-nuh-nor I."
"If our own people were to learn of this... or Acaste were to discover this
deception... or Many-As-One... all that we have created here would be
destroyed. This husk," Hargrimm said, pointing to the slumped body of the
Silent King, "is all that keeps the inner and outer enemies at bay. If the truth
were spoken, our small civilization would become dust."
"Such a fragile balance," Dak'kon murmured.
"I cannot force thee to be silent. But I would ask thee to look beyond thyself,
to consider what would happen if thou spoke of what thou hast seen here."
I nodded, "I only wish to leave, Hargrimm. Grant me this, and I vow that you
shall have my silence."
Hargrimm was silent for a moment. "Thou may leave this place. Go, now...
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