The world went dark.
Later...after his monster had killed him again...
Kinlear woke in a plush bed in Touvre, his skin covered in stasis runes. His body, as far south as one could get from the Citadel.Out of the way.Exactly where his mother and father wanted him to be.
As the months passed, he was given a tonic to wear around his neck. He was to drink it each time he felt the illness coming on.
He was given a new cane. He was to use it with every step, for his mother was tired of seeing how often he winced.
He carried each like a lifeline, though as he grew, they became more like shackles, holding him down so that someday, he could be claimed by the grave.
It would be years before Kinlear saw his brother in person again.
7
Every night, for the next year of his life, the monster came for him.
And Kinlear Laroux died.
He couldn’t erase it, couldn’t change his fate. Not even now, as he ran through the skeletal wood, his heart slamming against his chest.
It was another night. Another chase that would end the same.
This time, he’d reached the frozen river in a matter of minutes. He was faster, older, stronger. But still not enough to prevent the monster from killing him.
He’d tried to fashion a blade, as Arawn suggested, but the damned trees wouldn’t break. The limbs bent and bowed as if they were made of rubber. As if, in this space...no such weapon would be allowed.
This was his dream. It should have been his rules.
But he had no power here.
“Princelinggggg,” hissed the monster now as it approached from between two trees.
Kinlear cursed the sky, cursed the gods, as he fought through the snow. He passed another spot where the monster’s claws had driven into his chest so deep, they’d gouged the tree behind him before he’d woken up screaming.
He winced, wishing he could shove the memory away.
But he was tied to every single one of his deaths.
He held on to each agonizing moment, reliving them in his waking hours...as if the monster walked with him even in the day.
“Why don’t you save me?” he asked the Five now, as he ducked beneath a low-hanging branch that was heavy with snow. “If you love me, why don’t you stop this? Answer my prayers!”
It was only his monster’s cackle that replied. Its laughter bounded off the skeletal trees, sending shivers up and down his spine.
It was so close now. A stick cracked, only a few footsteps behind him.
The snow fell harder, until he saw the world in shades of muted white and grey.
“Praying to spirits that slumber?” the beast called after him. “When will you wake up, Little Prince?”
“Leave me alone!” Kinlear shouted.
He came to a skidding stop as something materialized between two trees. Shadows...swiftly forming shapes, until they’d gathered into a long, dark cloak, with a blackened hood and hands tipped in elongated claws.
Terror froze him where he stood.
He felt like a godsdamned child again.
