It is a demand, not a question. Braxton lowers his sword. His body turning a bit towards me, like a push in my back, encouraging me, cheering for me to speak up again.
“No.”
I repeat myself as the king huffs out a laugh. “The king has kept something from you all,” I speak up, turning towards the crowd and they fall silent.
“I have been abandoned, locked away and trained for these trials, only because I have something in my blood that scares the king,” I continue. “We did as he told us. We survived, we are first up.” I look towards the king who studies me carefully but curls his lips up. “But it isn’t what he wanted. He wants a bloody show, that’s all. He wants me to kill his son, or want to let his son kill the thing he is scared of somehow.”
I step towards the people.
“Me.”
People start yelling at the king. And the king thinks fast, but I hear him murmur.
“Well, this isn’t unexpected.” He steps forwards, encouraging the people of my wrongness.
“Yes, there can be only one winner, since the price is meant for one,” he explains towards people. He is playing a mind game on them. “But I can’t let them kill each other, because of their bond and stuff. Then I will not be sure if I am going to have a winner at all.” Two guards step from behind the crowd, holding someone cuffed.
“But they will have to kill someone. This man has helped people in ways he wasn’t allowed to, and for that he deserves death.”
Da.
His hands are tied behind his back, a piece of clothing stuffed in his mouth. His eyes look up at me. Panic fills me. Braxton freezes next to me. The guards kick him in his back, causing Da to fall towards the cold hard ground.
My body reacts without my mind discussing my actions first.
“Da!” I run towards my father, kneeling down next to him. I hear people around me gasp. I look up at the king, who is smirking at me. Rage bubbles up inside off, being charged by pounding panic. I start to untie the knot at the end of his head, trying to get the clothing out of his mouth. Tears start to well over my cheek.
“You’re a monster,” I hear Braxton hiss.
“No, you are,” the king bites back. He twists his hand as I look at him. I finally release the cloth out his mouth, my hands shaking with adrenaline.
“Goldie,” my dad whispers. “I am already dying.” My sight goes blurry because of the tears in my eyes.
“No, you are not,” I bite back at him, starting to untie his hands in a hurry.
Some people around me cheer, others yell.
“He is going to die. And since you are not going to do it,” the king spit out. My eyes look up at him and he twists his hand.
“No!” I scream.
I am still kneeled down next to my dad. His body shaking horrendously, his mouth going open and close like he is going to puke. I hold onto him, as he tries to fight the thing inside of him.
“Don’t leave me, Dad. I need you.” I cry out. He is shaking uncontrollably, and I try to lay him down on my legs. Shadows start to erupt out of his mouth.
I know what this is. I have read about it.
He is taking his soul out of him.
The shadows.
Because he is a shadow wielder.
I start to scream uncontrollably as I watch the soul leave my dad’s body. “Please stay with me. I need you, please,” I cry out. Tears stream down my face like the waterfalls next to our house. My body shakes as I hold onto the limp body of my father.
Father. The man who raised me while I wasn’t one of his own. I hate myself for not showing him it more. I wish I brought him more flowers. Because he deserves every single one of them. I wish I showed him more how thankful I am for him. I hate that I never called him by what he really was.
A dad, my father.
