his father who glanced
over at him. “Are you done sulking yet?”
Darius stopped and turned to glare at
Sebastian, annoyance clear in the tight lines of his face. “I
wasn’t sulking.” He spun the rest of the way around to look back
the way they’d come. “I should have known better.” His hands swung
about as he spoke, as though he might chase his anger off with his
motions.
“ Known better than what? Than to trust
the villagers to treat us kindly after I’d risked life and limb to
free them from the Red Guard tyranny?”
His father shook his head. “The moment
you told me the resistance tried to recruit you we should have left
Deliton behind.” He growled, whipping his head around to look at
Sebastian. “Rebellions are not won through honorable combat on an
open field. It’s only the end result that holds any value for a
resistance movement, for anything but victory means death for them. They’ll do
anything to win.”
“ To include pretending they are Red
Guard so they can draw us further into their conflict and spare
their own forces.” Sebastian sighed. “I should have seen it coming,
as well.”
“ How would you?” his father asked.
“I’ve kept you sequestered your entire life, so this is my failure
to sow. You know only combat, not people…all thanks to me and my
foolish notion that I could protect you from the callous stupidity
that runs so rampant in the realm.” He gnashed his teeth, a
whispered curse slipping from between them. “I gave no thought to
the world we’d return to once your training was complete, but only
of your mother and the sweetness of the revenge we’d bestow upon
her murderers. I thought only of myself.” Darius turned away, his
eyes misted silver. “I’m sorry, son.”
Sebastian set a hand on his father’s
shoulder. “I hold no ill will towards you for what you’ve made me.”
He tugged Darius around to face him. “You’ve kept me alive and
protected me from the fate that has taken the rest of my kind. For
all your yearning for revenge, you were there for me as no other
could have been. I could ask for no greater father than you.” He
painted a cruel smile across his lips. “And I, too, want what you
want; more than anything. I want to see the entrails of the witches
splayed across my sword. If there is a different life to be had, it
will wait for me on the other side of what we must do. When
mother’s spirit has been sated, we can begin again and worry then
of the fools that litter Mynistiria.”
A tear spilled from Darius’ eye and carved a
trail down the dust that colored his cheek. He pulled Sebastian to
him and hugged him tight, finally letting him loose with a hardy
slap on his back. “And so we shall, my son.” He wiped the tear
away, smearing his face with a streak of dirt. “Come now, let’s get
moving. We’ve a ways to go before we reach the next shining example
of humanity.”
Sebastian chuckled as they marched on. After
a while, Darius pulled ahead once more and Sebastian slowed. He was
tired, and his steps were leaden. It had taken a lot more energy
than he’d been prepared to expend to conjure the fireball he’d used
to ignite the wood pile at Deliton.
Though his father had been an expert teacher
when it came to the arts of war, a general who had stood behind his
sword far longer than Sebastian had been alive, his knowledge of
spell casting was limited to what he had gleaned from Sebastian’s
mother. It wasn’t enough.
After Darius’ defeat at the hands of the Red
Guard army, their might bolstered by the witches of the High
Council, he was enslaved and forced to serve the witches. When
Sebastian’s mother had come to power years later, he had become her
personal servant, bound to her whims through the use of magical
sigils drawn into his flesh. His servitude slowly became
companionship, in secret, and the sigils were removed in secret as
their trust blossomed into love. He learned much in the ten years
they’d been
over at him. “Are you done sulking yet?”
Darius stopped and turned to glare at
Sebastian, annoyance clear in the tight lines of his face. “I
wasn’t sulking.” He spun the rest of the way around to look back
the way they’d come. “I should have known better.” His hands swung
about as he spoke, as though he might chase his anger off with his
motions.
“ Known better than what? Than to trust
the villagers to treat us kindly after I’d risked life and limb to
free them from the Red Guard tyranny?”
His father shook his head. “The moment
you told me the resistance tried to recruit you we should have left
Deliton behind.” He growled, whipping his head around to look at
Sebastian. “Rebellions are not won through honorable combat on an
open field. It’s only the end result that holds any value for a
resistance movement, for anything but victory means death for them. They’ll do
anything to win.”
“ To include pretending they are Red
Guard so they can draw us further into their conflict and spare
their own forces.” Sebastian sighed. “I should have seen it coming,
as well.”
“ How would you?” his father asked.
“I’ve kept you sequestered your entire life, so this is my failure
to sow. You know only combat, not people…all thanks to me and my
foolish notion that I could protect you from the callous stupidity
that runs so rampant in the realm.” He gnashed his teeth, a
whispered curse slipping from between them. “I gave no thought to
the world we’d return to once your training was complete, but only
of your mother and the sweetness of the revenge we’d bestow upon
her murderers. I thought only of myself.” Darius turned away, his
eyes misted silver. “I’m sorry, son.”
Sebastian set a hand on his father’s
shoulder. “I hold no ill will towards you for what you’ve made me.”
He tugged Darius around to face him. “You’ve kept me alive and
protected me from the fate that has taken the rest of my kind. For
all your yearning for revenge, you were there for me as no other
could have been. I could ask for no greater father than you.” He
painted a cruel smile across his lips. “And I, too, want what you
want; more than anything. I want to see the entrails of the witches
splayed across my sword. If there is a different life to be had, it
will wait for me on the other side of what we must do. When
mother’s spirit has been sated, we can begin again and worry then
of the fools that litter Mynistiria.”
A tear spilled from Darius’ eye and carved a
trail down the dust that colored his cheek. He pulled Sebastian to
him and hugged him tight, finally letting him loose with a hardy
slap on his back. “And so we shall, my son.” He wiped the tear
away, smearing his face with a streak of dirt. “Come now, let’s get
moving. We’ve a ways to go before we reach the next shining example
of humanity.”
Sebastian chuckled as they marched on. After
a while, Darius pulled ahead once more and Sebastian slowed. He was
tired, and his steps were leaden. It had taken a lot more energy
than he’d been prepared to expend to conjure the fireball he’d used
to ignite the wood pile at Deliton.
Though his father had been an expert teacher
when it came to the arts of war, a general who had stood behind his
sword far longer than Sebastian had been alive, his knowledge of
spell casting was limited to what he had gleaned from Sebastian’s
mother. It wasn’t enough.
After Darius’ defeat at the hands of the Red
Guard army, their might bolstered by the witches of the High
Council, he was enslaved and forced to serve the witches. When
Sebastian’s mother had come to power years later, he had become her
personal servant, bound to her whims through the use of magical
sigils drawn into his flesh. His servitude slowly became
companionship, in secret, and the sigils were removed in secret as
their trust blossomed into love. He learned much in the ten years
they’d been
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