Page 12 of Grim and Oro
My father has just killed him. It was the first time I saw him exert such power—it barreled out of him, like he had been building it up. Saving it.
His blade was wrapped in shadows. They spilled out of the metal, striking both rulers at once. They fell, together.
Now, I can hear the commander’s bellow from the other side of the field.
The castle is right there, within reach. Their strongest soldiers have made a wall, holding firm against ours.
We’re going to win, I think.
I look over at my father, his shadows retreating back into his blade. He looks back at me, and I go still.
His arms ... they’re trembling. His eyes are bloodshot. He almost looks weak, which doesn’t make sense, because he is supposed to be stronger than all of us.
The commander, the Sunling prince, comes rushing out, right toward us. His blade is pointed at my father.
He’s going to kill him.
I should let him, I think. I should let this Sunling, with tears streaming down his face, who is roaring so loud it cuts through the rest of the screaming, kill my father.
But then I would be ruler. And that’s not something I want. Ever, if I can help it.
The war has cost me. Endless battles. Endless blood.
It’s been years of this, and I’m tired.
So very tired.
“Go,” I say. “I’ll deal with him.”
He nods. I portal him away, using shadows as cover.
Then, I roll my shoulders back and unsheathe my blade.
The Sunling prince’s teeth are bared. He’s roaring. He’s ... crying.
The emotion disgusts me.
Still, I offer him a warning. “You don’t want to fight me,” I say, as he gets closer. He doesn’t slow down at all. He doesn’t falter, even though I can see a group—his friends, it seems—try to go after him.
In response, he makes a wall of flames, blocking them. Blocking all his people.
The wall curves around us, until it makes a circle. It’s just him, and me.
“Where’s your father?” he demands, eyes searching wildly, the need for vengeance twisting his face.
My own voice is flat. “Gone. You’ll have to fight me.” I feel nothing.
He ... on the other hand ... I drop the barrier between us, and his emotions hit me like a battering ram. They almost have me stumbling forward.
Pain. So much ... pain.
Loss.
Fury.
I frown. Is that what caring about your parents feels like?
“Who is it?” I ask, genuinely curious. “Who’s the one whose death made you reckless enough to come here, to fight me? Was it your father?”
