Chapter Twelve
Syriaca fell to his knees as he watched his king perish before him.
This couldn't be. Cassius can't be dead. Tears stung his eyes as he saw his dearest friend fade from life. His cold, dead eyes stared straight into Syriaca's as Thalanil twisted Cassius's head his way before his body slumped to the ground. The air escaped his middle and the world dropped from beneath his feet. His heart ached and his middle tightened. He couldn't believe what happened. His king was stronger than that. How could Cassius have been beaten so easily? Matter of fact,
why
had he been defeated?
He just lost his brother.
The rest of the Thirteen gasped mutually and Leuce held back a scream but not before he allowed his dinner to end up on the cavern's ground. With the wild mob around them, no one would ever notice.
They all glanced at one another, their faces in complete and utter shock at what just happened. How could this be? They knew he was a strong Broslan, one who was powerful and harbored great magic. Surely, this was a vision, something not real. King Cassius could not die. He wasn't allowed to die.
Not one of them uttered his name for they knew this night wouldn't end well.
However, one must inform the king's sister. She had to know that she was now the only heir to the throne. That she was queen. That Ieslal was now hers for the taking with her dreadful husband.
Syriaca rose and braced himself for what was to come as he nodded to the youngest of the Thirteen, Mayce, a boy no older than eight and ten. He would be the messenger. He would be the deliverer of the terrible news. He would be the one Velorina hated when she was to learn of her brother's demise. He would be the blame.
With tightened lips, Mayce saluted slightly before he took off.
So, this was death?
It wasn't so bad. Cassius felt time slow as his face was thrown to the side. His eyes scanned over the crowd, all a blur of dark figures. The pain was subtle and quick; nary did it hurt.
He saw Syriaca's pale face and could detect the tears that threatened to fall. He watched Leuce empty his stomach onto the ground. He noticed Dreven place a hand over his mouth to hide his face. How could he leave them behind? Leave his sister behind?
How could he-
the slave girl?
She crossed his mind, her violet eyes shining in the moonlight. And there, there she was, hiding behind Leuce, a broken and solemn look on her face. Why was she here? There was something off about her, an abnormality and exclusivity that seemed to shroud her very being.
Was this what he wanted? What his heart truly desired?
A
slave?
"Cassius..." a voice whispered on the wind.
"My love, Cassius," the voice moaned and he felt the sadness seep into his bones. Gods, it hurt. She seemed so lonely and forlorn.
He wanted to weep as the voice began crying his name, over and over again. Was this an epiphany? Should he change? Or was this the future? Who was crying out for him during this time? During this darkness? So many questions raced through his mind, so many voices. Were they of his ancestors? The ones who possessed great magic?
A fire erupted in his veins and his muscles began twitching.
His body was giving in to his ultimate fate. He could feel the stiffness of his joints as they locked into place. But this seemed too rapid.
In his mind, Cassius crossed his brows and shook his head. He could feel his life force ebbing away, could feel his body withering into absolutely nothing, into a deep voice of blackness and death. He allowed his mind to cease its wandering, prattling thoughts as he slipped into oblivion.
Mayce's breath slowed by the time he made it to the castle.
He had ran the whole way, his thin legs carrying him with the breeze. He was small and fast; that's why he was perfect for being the king's bodyguard.
One would think that King Cassius preferred muscular men and he obtained them in the Thirteen but it was something about Mayce's build that had Cassius accepting him. He wasn't like the others; he didn't grow up with the king. Instead, he was a farm boy, who just so happened knew how to fight.
Mayce smiled sadly at the memory of when he met Cas for the first time.
Six years ago, Mayce was backed in alley by three large Broslan men. Obviously, these Broslans were looking for an innocent young man however, Mayce wasn't about to have any of that.
He had stood over their downed bodies, simply knocked unconscious, when the king's entourage passed by. Cassius seemed curious as to how the boy took down three Broslans much stockier and bigger than he. He was impressed, to say the least, as Cassius had offered him a place amongst his warriors as just a humble squire until Mayce would grow in size and bulk.
To Cassius's surprise, Mayce only lengthened, never spread out. But nevertheless, Cassius instilled his faith upon him when he was invited on a Midnight Ride two years prior where Mayce had four brutes of bandits on his own.
Cassius's look of pride had completely warmed his heart and Mayce knew he'd found a wonderful friend in his king.
Now, it felt like he lost his whole world as he marched up the stairs to the grand entrance. He'd lost a marvelous friend and brother. The kingdom lost a great leader; he was considered by far the best king Ieslal has ever had even with his strict laws. Faces of the gods were etched into the threshold surrounding the double doors, their looks of judgement raining down upon who dared look at them. Mayce felt uncomfortable for a moment when he locked gazes with dead god.
A heavy heart ached in his chest when waltzed through, in search of the king's sister. She would be devastated. To say her heart will be broken would be an understatement. The royal siblings had a bond like no other; they were of a closeness that rivaled even twins. Granted, they hadn't seen one another in years but the two never once faltered in the absence.
