It spreads fast and before I know it, a wall of fire keeps me locked in, leaving no way out.
“Please go.” I sent through our weak bond, hoping she will hear it.
I slice forwards, but he clutches the sword out of my hand.
As I see no way out anymore, a moan comes out his mouth.
His eyes lower towards his heart and I follow.
A sword points out of his poisonous heart.
My heart thunders in my ears, and the sizzling of the water wielders dimming the fire doesn’t add up to the sound of his dying moans.
He falls down and I don’t bother catching him.
Him falling forwards reveals the killer.
Wide eyes look at the body of the king, who now is bleeding out on the grass.
Zephron’s hands tremble as he holds the sword.
His hands don’t stop shaking.
I hurry towards him.
“You’re alright,” I whimper at him, taking the sword out of his hand.
A cry comes out his mouth as the burns on my flesh start to pound. His eyes are focused on the king’s body, his jaw open as he takes the dying body in. I know he is holding back the urge to run to him.
I know my brother loved our father, the king, somewhere.
I don’t.
Because all I wanted was him to be proud. And even that he couldn’t do. I was just another pawn in his game.
With the sword in my hand, I let my feet drag me to him.
A soft whimper of air leaves his mouth as I kneel down to him, looking into his eyes for one last time.
“You took the title of father out of my mouth when I was a kid, forcing me to call you king.” I let out a huff, almost feeling the urge to smirk, but I fight it in respect for Zephron.
“You are in no way worthy of the title fathers get.”
I drop the sword on the ground in front of him as a last puff of air leaves his lungs.
I don’t bother to close his eyes.
But somewhere it stings.
A prince who wanted to please his father, a king that was never pleased.
Disgust fills my veins.
My feet hurry back to Zephron, but just as I try to, an arm wraps around my shoulders, pulling me back.
My eyes scan what is happening to him.
Guards.
