I was only ten years old when I watched it happen. Back then, I thought I understood what I had seen: my father standing tall, and the monster who took everything from me. But years later I uncovered pieces I never knew were missing, fragments from both of them. Only then did the picture finally come together.

  The city stirred to life beneath the rising sun. Birds darted between rooftops. Children’s laughter echoed through the narrow streets.

  I remember my father sitting by the window, his eyes lost beyond the horizon.

  “Skipping guard duty again? Gods forbid the people actually feel safe with their captain at his post,” my mother said, folding her arms.

  His mouth curved faintly, the ghost of a smile breaking through the fog. “You’re lecturing me first thing in the morning?” His tone carried mock offense, a mask he wore easily.

  She pounced before he could rise, pinning him with surprising force. He let out a low breath, struggling half-heartedly. “Is this how we’ll start our day?”

  “Don’t tell me the great captain of the Sun Guard is this weak,” she mocked, pressing harder. “Maybe it’s time for someone younger, stronger.”

  With a sudden shift, my father swept her off balance and caught her before she fell. He held her close, steady and sure. His voice softened. “You were saying, my love?”

  Her blush betrayed her, and she pushed away with mock indignation. “You know I let you win.”

  “Of course. You’ve always been too skilled, even for me.”

  Their voices rose together, filling the room.

  “Since you started this,” my father asked, playing with his tone again, “how’s the bakery dream going?”

  Mother blinked, then softened. “Still perfecting my masterpiece. The Unchained. Strawberry, named after you. A cake to shame the gods.”

  “Still working on it? I always knew your baking needed work.”

  She swatted him with a pillow. He didn’t dodge.

  “Careful, darling,” she warned with a sly grin. “Keep talking and you’ll be planting yourself a permanent bed in the garden tonight.”

  He raised his hands in surrender, chuckling. But his gaze stayed on her a heartbeat longer, the faint curve of his lips not quite holding.

  Outside, the city rang with birdsong, alive as ever. But three days ago, those same streets had been empty, no voices, no light, only the hush of torches and the weight of shadows.

  That night I remember the street being quiet, torches burning low against the stone. My father’s boots scraped the cobblestones, the only sound in the sleeping city. Prius waited in the shadows, cloak pulled tight, the old scars in his voice cutting sharper than the night air.

  “You know I like talking to you, old friend,” Father said with a weary smile, “but I can’t shake this feeling I won’t enjoy this conversation.” His tone carried forced levity, but his eyes stayed sharp.

  Prius’s mouth twitched. “Perceptive as always. Settling in Solarin hasn’t dulled you much.”

  Father shrugged, glancing up at the dark rooftops. “After that war, I wanted quiet. Then I found Elia, and knew where my place was.”

  “I’m glad you found peace,” Prius said, eyes on the ground. “Some of us can’t forget. We stay ready. Because it’ll come again.”

  Father chuckled, but the humor didn’t touch his eyes. “How’s the fight against Ordine? Winning? Or should I put on the old armor and show you how it’s done?”

  The laugh died when he saw Prius’s face fall.

  “Prius…” My father’s tone sharpened. “Just tell me. Will something happen to me?”

  Silence. Then: “I went to Destinia.”

  His expression hardened, mask gone. “You know fate’s threads can’t be broken. You’re just punishing yourself.”

  “I know,” Prius admitted. His eyes finally met Father’s. “But you should hear it anyway.” His voice dropped. “She said a spark beneath the ash would soon ignite.”

  Father frowned. “Did she give more?”

  “No,” Prius said at last.

  Father gave a low laugh, brittle. “And the cost?”

  Prius hesitated. The silence was enough.

  Father looked away, jaw tightening. “I see.”

  “Just… take care of yourself until then.”

  Mother shook Father’s shoulder. “You’re daydreaming again!”

  “Yes…” His eyes softened, the weight hidden behind a faint smile. “Dreaming.”

  They headed downstairs.

  “Go rouse your little soldier before he sleeps through the whole day,” Mother said, pointing toward the stairs.

  But I stumbled down on my own, scratching my eyes, still half-asleep.

  “I got him,” Father said, reaching to steady my shoulder.

  Mother shot him a look. He tilted his head, feigning innocence.

  “You two fighting again?” I mumbled.

  “More like a one-sided massacre,” Father said, tossing a wink toward her.

  “Eww, Dad!” I groaned.

  “Come back to me in a few years,” he teased, though his eyes flickered with something else.

  “I’ll never do gross stuff like that!” I scoffed, kicking the chair leg as I sat.

  The room lightened with our voices overlapping.

  “You better watch out, Mom and Dad,” I declared. “Soon I’ll be able to beat both of you!”

  “In a fight?” Father raised a brow.

  “Yes! I’ll be the strongest, you’ll see.”

  He tousled my hair, pride flickering in his eyes. “Strength isn’t everything. A strong arm can only go as far as the heart allows. Don’t forget that, even if I’m not there to remind you.”

  “Eat, both of you,” Mother cut in, looming over us with exaggerated menace. “Or I’ll unleash a wrath fit to bring down the Sun Guard itself.”

  We shared a look of mock terror before digging in.

  The television murmured in the background, a string of reports filling the room until one line cut through:

  Ordine has conquered the planet Jiunus…

  I froze. “Dad… isn’t that the planet right next to us?”

  Father rose quickly and strode to the set.

  As per our reports, the great General Vi—

  The screen went black with a sharp click.

  His hand lingered on the set. He turned back, grin forced. “Am I sensing doubt in my strength? I’m… invincible.”

  My worry melted into excitement. “Sorry, Dad. You’re the best.”

  “Come on,” Mother said, rising. “Time for school.”

  “Will you come with me again, Dad?” I asked.

  “I’d love to, little soldier.”

  “Oh! I almost forgot… Mom, I need your pendulum!”

  She reached into her pocket. “Yes, for your show-and-tell this afternoon.”

  “You remembered!” I beamed.

  “I could never forget.” She pressed the pendulum into my hand. “It’s meant to protect you, Axel. Promise me you’ll keep it close. As long as you wear it, we’ll always be together.”

  I grinned, clutching it tight. “I promise!”

  Father leaned closer, his voice low, steady, carrying something I didn’t yet understand. “It’s the strength of our bond, Axel. Even stronger than my chains.”

  “Really? Thanks, Mom!” My eyes shone. “Will you come too, Dad? It’s open to all parents.”

  “Me?” He rubbed his chin, pretending to think. “I’m a busy man… I’ll have to check.” His shoulders shook with suppressed amusement.

  “Cut the act,” Mother said with a dry bite. “The mighty captain’s been practicing clapping his hands like it’s a battle drill.”

  He let out a mock groan. “Don’t need to put my business out like that.”

  Their voices filled the house, warmth wrapping around us like it always did.

  “Let’s go, Axel,” Father said at last.

  We began our walk to the academy, the same path as always. Children played in the park nearby, their laughter echoing through the crisp air. I watched as one boy raised his hand, a shimmering bubble forming around a friend as he shouted, “Bubble prison!” The trapped boy banged against the walls, laughing helplessly, until another cried out, “Look at my flaming seahorse!” A small creature of fire leapt across the grass, drawing cheers.

  I tugged Father’s arm, eyes wide. “See, Dad? I’ll be even better than them one day.”

  He ruffled my hair again. Pride and worry flickered together in his eyes.

  We crossed into the heart of Riota, the capital of Solarin. At its center stood the Fountain of Tears, glimmering in the morning light… Its waters poured endlessly from carved stone, each droplet catching the morning light like liquid crystal. The locals said it was filled with the tears of Lady Fate herself, Destinia, burdened by the lives she was forced to cut short. Some whispered it could never run dry, proof her sorrow was eternal.

  I slowed, staring up at the fountain. He put a hand on my shoulder, guiding me past in silence.

  Merchants bowed, old women offered blessings, children pointed in hushed awe.

  At one stall, Lugan waved from behind stacks of cloth and spices. His parrot, Rici, shifted on its perch, eyeing Father with uncanny sharpness.

  “Oh, hey, Captain Tyron,” Lugan called. “Come to browse my wares?”

  “Not today, Lugan,” Father said, resting a hand on my shoulder. “Just walking my boy to school. Took the long way.”

  “For my favorite captain, I’ll give you twenty percent off.”

  Father raised an eyebrow. “I’m the only captain in Solarin.”

  “And lucky for me!” Lugan laughed. “Otherwise I’d go broke.”

  Their laughter carried across the stalls.

  “Not today, friend,” Father said, shaking his head.

  “Squawk! Poor captain! Don’t get paid enough!” Rici screeched.

  I burst out laughing, nearly doubling over, while Lugan cursed and tried to clap a hand over the bird’s beak.

  “Squawk! Too slow, old man!” Rici cried again.

  Father chuckled as we walked on, but I saw the sound fade quickly. A cold weight slid into his chest. His shoulders tightened. His instincts whispered of danger.

  Elsewhere — Ordine Command Ship

  The planet hung beneath them, glimmering in the void. Solarin, bright, alive, innocent. I hadn’t seen this moment then, but I know it now as clearly as if I stood in the cabin myself.

  Dragora stood with his arms folded, staring through the glass. His voice was flat, almost mechanical.

  “So this is our reward for years of service… a worthless planet like Solarin. I had hoped for better.”

  Giola leaned against the frame, a grin tugging at his mouth. I know now that he was already trembling with joy. Waiting wasn’t in his nature; he needed screams, blood, and an audience. Every second in orbit was wasted time to him.

  “Why so uptight, Dragora?” His tone was airy, playful, but behind it his blood hummed like a war drum. “I’m just happy they gave us free rein to submit them however we like. Meaning a bloodbath is on the table… and I’m thrilled.”

  Dragora didn’t move. “As long as you don’t get blood on me, I don’t care what you do.”

  Giola tilted his head, mock-curious. “Really? What’s got you in such a good mood? Was it the cafeteria lady? Come on… you can tell me.”

  Dragora’s voice stayed stone. “You’re pushing your luck, Giola. Watch yourself.”

  Giola’s grin widened. He wanted a reaction, anything to stir the silence, because silence bored him more than pain. “Oh, so it was…”

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  Dragora’s hand shot out, slamming him against the steel wall. The ship rattled with the impact.

  For a moment, Giola’s grin broke. Irritation flared, sharp as his blades. “You’ve made your point, big guy. Now unhand me before I cut your arm off.”

  Dragora released him, impassive. “You know emotions like that were removed from me long ago.”

  Giola rolled his neck, the grin sliding back on like a mask snapping into place. The irritation burned away, leaving only thrill. “Tch. Look what you’ve done. Guess I’ll just bleed this planet dry instead.”

  His chest swelled with anticipation. He could already picture the plaza: torches dying, eyes wide, screams layered until they shook the stone. He wanted to hear them break.

  Dragora’s gaze never left Solarin. “Then let’s go already. I’m getting impatient.”

  The portal hissed open, light warping around them.

  Riota Plaza

  Giola felt the shift of the air, the taste of something fresh. He thought of it not as stepping onto a world, but stepping onto a stage. The audience was waiting. And this time, they would all leave knowing his name.

  They stepped through, shadows spilling over the reflection of Solarin in the glass.

  From the market, I saw the portal tear open above Riota. Father’s chest tightened. His hand gripped my shoulder.

  “This is it,” he said. His voice turned hard. “Go. Whatever you do, don’t look back. Find your mother.”

  I froze, shaking my head. “But…”

  “I said go!” he snapped, then forced a crooked smile, almost tender. “I’ll be fine. But I can’t kick the bad guys’ ass if I’m worried about you.”

  My lip trembled. Then, with one last glance, I ran.

  Behind me, his chains rose. Riota’s plaza filled with soldiers. And the portal swelled, spilling light.

  Giola stepped through.

  I saw him as a boy, crimson hair over one eye, scythes twitching with hunger. The plaza wasn’t just stone to him. It was a stage, and he was the star. He looked like he was smiling, but it wasn’t a nice smile. It was the kind you see on kids who like tearing wings off bugs.

  Dragora followed, silent and monstrous, scars stitched across him. Father’s heart clenched at the sight. Giola barely noticed. To him, Dragora was only backdrop.

  Giola spread his arms wide, grin sharp. “We come in peace, I—”

  “The hell you do,” Father cut in, chains rattling.

  Amusement spiked in Giola’s chest. A captain who interrupted him? He loved it.

  “Rude. No manners at all? Do captains no longer know of courtesy?”

  “Stop pretending. Your bloodlust is suffocating the air.”

  That made him grin sharper. He can smell it on me. He turned to Dragora, feigning offense. “You see what you’ve done? Their screams won’t even feel the same now. You owe me dinner after this.”

  Then back to Father, grin widening. “As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, our orders are to offer you the chance to surrender. A formality, really.”

  Volfio barked out, “Forget it. We’d rather die here than end up like Jiunus.”

  Giola’s chest leapt. Good. No begging. More screams to collect.

  “So that… means…” He spun once, arms spread, laughing lightly. “…you’ll fight.”

  Father’s chain lashed forward in a blur. Giola tilted his head, letting it whistle past his cheek. The thrill of danger sparked through him.

  “Interrupting me again? Just who are you?”

  “Tyron. Captain of the Sun Guard.”

  The name struck Giola like lightning. For a heartbeat he froze. Then joy flooded him. Tyron. The Tyron. A legend dropped in his lap.

  His laughter erupted, rich and delighted. “Tyron… that Tyron? The one who fought beside Almighty Nova himself? Oh, I take it back. This isn’t a worthless planet at all. This might be the best prize we’ve ever been handed.”

  Father’s voice was stripped bare. “Then hear this. Whatever you came for, you won’t get it. Solarin won’t be yours.”

  Giola’s grin thinned into hunger. “When I stepped through, I wanted a planet. A prize. Something to play with.” The hidden eye beneath his crimson hair flickered red. Restraint thinning. “But then I met you. Now I want your corpse, carved with my name, so no one forgets who sent you to the afterlife.”

  The silence pressed heavy. For Giola, it was theater. He snapped his fingers.

  “But first, a proper warm-up. Go on, my little soldiers. Show me what Solarin is worth.”

  His grin widened, voice carrying across the plaza.

  “Every good play needs blood in the first act. Scream for me, Solarin you’re my audience tonight.”

  The Ordine troops poured from the portal, weapons gleaming as they marched toward the defenders of Solarin.

  Father’s chains lashed in brutal arcs, tearing through armor and flesh. Heads rolled. Blood splattered across the plaza stones. The Sun Guard roared beside him, battered but unbroken, their blades flashing in the morning light. For a heartbeat, it looked like the invaders might falter.

  I remember the way his chains spread, sweeping wide in a storm of steel, every strike cutting a path clear for the soldiers at his side. He wasn’t just fighting. He was shielding. The chains scared me sometimes, they hissed like snakes, even though I knew they’d never hurt me.

  Then Giola’s laughter split the air. It wasn’t joy, it was hunger. His scythes twitched at his sides as though the blood already called to him. “Oh, this is beautiful!” he crowed. He leaned toward Dragora with a grin. “He’s formidable. Should I be worried?”

  Dragora’s voice was stone. “You’ll be fine.”

  “Fine?” Giola sneered. “Please. I won’t even need to unshackle myself.” His body tensed, eager to play. “Enough play. I want in.”

  He leapt into the fray, slipping past Father’s chains in bursts of impossible speed. One moment here, the next there, every flicker of crimson hair followed by another body collapsing, another throat spilling red.

  Father’s heart pounded. I know now he recognized it, Giola wasn’t even trying.

  Beside him, Volfio barked, “Wipe that look off your face, Captain. If you panic, so will the men.”

  Father’s jaw clenched. “And what do you suggest?”

  “You take the clown,” Volfio growled. “I’ll handle stone face over there.”

  Father’s chains lashed, but I know now he didn’t believe Volfio could stand against Dragora. Still, the general charged.

  He skidded to a halt in front of Dragora, shouting, “Look at you, standing so tall. Too proud to fight your own battles?”

  Dragora’s gaze didn’t shift from Father.

  “Answer me, damn you!” Volfio roared. “Don’t you dare ignore me! I am General Volfio of Solarin, and you will acknowledge me!”

  Light swelled in his fist, a compressed orb of energy sparking with unstable power. He closed the distance, grin sharp and wild. “You’re dead.” He slammed the blast into Dragora’s chest. The explosion tore across the plaza, dust swallowing them whole.

  Volfio laughed. “That’s how it’s done, Tyron! Grow a spine!”

  The dust shifted. A shadow stirred. Dragora stepped out untouched, not a mark on him.

  “Pathetic,” he said. “I left myself wide open… and you still couldn’t scratch me.”

  Giola howled with laughter mid-slash. “Oh, Dragora, you’re killing me! Look, you even got dust on you. How unsightly.”

  Father cursed, his chains lashing toward them, but Giola intercepted with a scythe, his grin splitting wide. “Ah-ah. You’re mine. Let the big guy have his fun.” He leaned close, voice low and sharp. “Now watch, here comes the best part.”

  Dragora’s hand shot forward, seizing Volfio’s wrist. The general snarled, straining. “Unhand me!”

  Dragora’s tone was flat, like a judge delivering a sentence. “Compared to your captain. You… are nothing.”

  His other hand clamped down on Volfio’s skull. The grip tightened.

  The scream that followed still rings in my ears. It cut through the battlefield sharper than steel, stopping every soldier mid-strike. Even Giola paused to savor it.

  Then came the cracks. Bones splintering, wet and unbearable. Blood streamed down Dragora’s arm. Volfio thrashed until the plaza stank of fear.

  Finally, one decisive squeeze. A sickening snap. Then silence. The body crumpled.

  The general who had once stood so tall now laid broken.

  Giola clapped slowly, laughter bubbling. “How ironic. You stained yourself with blood anyway.”

  Dragora glanced at the red streaks running down his hand. “I never asked to be involved.”

  The battlefield went silent.

  Father froze, his chains slack at his sides. The glow in his chest dimmed. Every sound around him fell away, muffled. He turned just enough to see Giola laughing in the haze, crimson hair swaying, delighted by the slaughter. And I know now that sight hollowed him.

  These monsters… there’s nothing I can do. Volfio died in front of me, and I couldn’t even help him. I’m too weak. This is hopeless. It’s over.

  His knees nearly buckled. His chains dragged against the stone. Tears slid down his face, hot against the cold of despair. He let them fall.

  “Dad!!!”

  My voice cracked the silence like a blade. I remember my own hand shooting out, the pendulum raised high, its crystal catching the sunlight. My throat was raw as I screamed, “You got this! Please don’t give up!”

  Every head turned. Even Giola and Dragora paused to glance toward me.

  Mother rushed to my side, clutching me tight as tears welled in her eyes. She forced a trembling smile and shouted, voice breaking but brave: “If you let these clowns beat you, Tyron, I won’t talk to you ever again!”

  The absurdity of it, so ordinary against the carnage, tugged at Father’s chest. He wiped his face with the back of his hand. His shoulders squared. His chains stirred, clinking like snakes waking from slumber.

  “I almost forgot…” His voice rang steady now. “This fight was never about me. How selfish I’ve been.” His eyes found us through the chaos, me, clutching the pendulum, and Mother, refusing to let go of me. “It’s about protecting them. If I have to give my life for that… then so be it.”

  One by one, voices rose across the plaza. A child lifted a wooden toy sword, shouting, “Captain, don’t lose!” An elder pressed her hands together in prayer. Merchants, mothers, fathers, all crying out, each word pulling him back into the fight.

  He lifted his chains, golden light flaring once more. “Come on, men! We can honor Volfio later. Right now, we have families to protect and a war to finish. Don’t back down!”

  The Sun Guard roared in answer.

  Then his gaze cut across the battlefield, fixing on Giola. His voice carried clear and sharp, no mask, no hesitation.

  “Giola… come claim the fight you wanted.”

  Father’s chains slammed into the stone, tunneling deep. A heartbeat later, they erupted upward, striking like serpents. Giola slipped between them, laughing, his scythes spinning wide. He flickered across impossible angles, carving faster than eyes could track.

  One slash landed. A deep gash split across Father’s shoulder. Heat bled out. His arm sagged.

  He staggered back, pressing Ardore into the chain wrapped around his good arm. The links glowed white-hot. With his other hand he kept Giola at bay, then pressed the burning steel to the wound. Flesh hissed. The smell of searing skin filled the plaza. His scream tore through the air, but the bleeding stopped.

  Giola tilted his head, amused. “Self-care mid-fight? I’ll let you.”

  Father steadied, chest heaving. “Better than bleeding out. Don’t get cocky.”

  They clashed again. Giola’s strikes grew faster, sharper, every blow forcing Father back. The air itself grew suffocating.

  With a roar, Father spun his chains in wide arcs. Ardore heat warped the air, whipping the wind into a cyclone. “Infinite Chain: Whirlwind!”

  Chains lashed in every direction, dragging everything within the cyclone.

  Giola smirked, exhilaration flooding him. At last. A dance worthy of his blades. “If you wanted to get close, to me you could’ve asked.” He blurred through the cyclone, carving deep cuts into Father’s back before reappearing in front, laughing. “That’s all?”

  He leapt back, twisting through the air, until the sky split in gold. Chains of light speared him midair.

  Father roared, voice breaking with strain. “My true trump card: Last Shining Call!”

  For an instant, hope surged. Even Dragora’s impassive gaze flickered.

  Giola hung skewered, grin faltering. Pain tore across his nerves. Blood spilled. For the first time, he felt the weight of chains.

  Father’s chest heaved. “It worked…”

  But Giola’s laugh spilled out. His grin twisted wide, blood dribbling down his lip. “Three hits. Not one vital. Pathetic.”

  He pressed a scythe to Father’s chest, heat surging inward. “Let me show you despair. Dying Dream.”

  The world split.

  Visions flooded Father: Mother bleeding, me bound in chains, our voices blaming him. His warmth drained. His chains sagged. He dropped to his knees.

  Giola leaned close, whispering with glee. “This is worse than death. Not the body, but the heart. Watching them die until your warmth dies with them. Suffer legend.”

  He relished the scream that tore from Father’s throat.

  But then, a voice cut through. Prius’s promise.

  Father’s breath steadied. He rose again, chains coiling upward.

  Giola faltered. I know now it was the first crack in his confidence. He couldn’t understand why Father refused to give up.

  Father bound him in place, pouring everything into his chains.

  “Trust,” Father repeated, steady. “Even in death, I know they’ll be safe.”

  “Dad, no!” I screamed, thrashing in Mother’s arms. “You promised! You’ll always be here!”

  He smiled faintly, broken. “Sorry, kiddo. My fate was sealed long ago. I just wanted one more day.”

  Mother’s tears streamed as she clutched me. “So that’s why… you were so present these past days. You knew.”

  His chains tightened. He turned to her, voice shaking. “I wish I could’ve told you sooner. But I wasn’t ready to let go. Smile for me… every day, promise me. Carry me with you. And Axel, I’ll be looking over you.”

  His body sagged. The last of his strength drained.

  “I’m done.”

  The chains slackened.

  Giola’s chest flooded with exhilaration. The restraint was gone. His grin stretched wide, satisfaction and hunger blending as one. “Finally. You lived up to the legend. I’m glad I fought you.”

  With one clean pull, his blades crossed.

  My father’s head fell.

  Blood sprayed across the stones. The plaza froze.

  Giola wiped the blood from his cheek, scythes twitching in his hands. He drank in the silence like wine. “This warmth… emotions running wild, the heat that only fear can bring. It’s comforting. Thank you, everyone.”

  Dragora’s voice rumbled. “Disappointing performance. You may be standing, but if we don’t get you to a medic soon, you’ll join Tyron in the dirt.”

  Giola waved him off, chuckling, though even now his wounds burned. Let them. Pain was proof he had lived through this duel. “Yeah, yeah. Doesn’t matter. The spine of the Sun Guard is gone. This world is already ours.”

  Mother’s voice tore through the silence, raw and furious. “You monster!”

  Giola turned, amused. “Monster? And who are you to pass judgment? Only the strong have that right.”

  “He was the embodiment of justice,” she spat. “More than you could ever understand.”

  Something in Giola’s chest twisted. I know now it was jealousy. But he buried it under scorn. “Justice? Don’t make me laugh. How many fathers, brothers, sons did he kill in the name of your so-called justice? You call him a hero because you liked his cause. But in the end, he and I were the same coin. Just different sides.”

  “Shut your mouth, scum.”

  He chuckled darkly. “The truth stings, doesn’t it? Reality is simple. When I die, I’ll meet him in hell. And we’ll drink to all the corpses we left behind.”

  I stumbled forward, tears blurring my eyes. “Dad? Please… get up. You still have to come to my show and tell. You practiced for it… remember?”

  Gasps rippled through the crowd. I shook him, sobbing. Soldiers moved to stop me, until Giola raised a hand.

  “Wait.”

  My tear-soaked eyes met his. “Why? Why did you have to kill him?”

  Giola’s grin stretched cruel. “This is life. The strong live, the weak are buried. Your father died a warrior’s death. If that hurts you… then avenge him. Take this pain, grow stronger, and come find me when you’re ready.”

  He turned to leave.

  I screamed, charging. My fists pounded against his armor, useless.

  Giola’s amusement snapped. His hunger flared. “Or do this.. if you’re so eager to join your father… I’ll gladly send you to him.”

  With one unrestrained kick, he sent me sprawling.

  “No!” Mother cried, throwing herself over me. Her arms spread wide, shielding me with her whole body. “You’ll have to kill me first. I will not let you hurt my son!”

  Giola blurred forward, scythes raised. “You don’t get a choice in this, you weak bitch.”

  Her eyes squeezed shut, bracing for the end.

  But the strike never came. A shadow cut through the battlefield, slamming Giola back in sparks.

  A voice thundered. “Enough. I stood and watched as my friend died. But I will not let you harm what he held so dear to him.”

  Prius.

  Giola stumbled upright, blood on his lip. His heart pounded with fury and joy. Finally, the coward showed his face. “Prius. Do you think you stand a chance against me?”

  “You’re on the brink of death already,” Prius said. “Dragora knows it. But you aren’t mine to kill.”

  Giola’s grin twitched, bloodlust outweighing reason. “I don’t care! Let me carve you open too!”

  Prius slammed a crystal into the ground. Smoke swallowed the plaza. He grabbed us, pulling us away.

  “Hold on. We’re leaving.”

  Giola’s voice tore through the cloud, manic, furious. “Run, then! Run as far as you like. Next time, a bit of smoke won’t stop me from executing you!”

  Through the haze, I saw him turn back to Father’s body. Slowly, almost reverently, he lowered his blades, carving his name into the flesh. Each stroke was deliberate.

  When he finished, his gaze fell on the pendulum. He picked it up, turning it over in his palm. A crack split across its surface. His chest swelled with cruel satisfaction.

  He chuckled, tightening his grip. With a snap, the crystal shattered.

  The fragments fell onto Father’s chest, scattering like broken light.

  Giola dropped them with a laugh.

  “It’s beautiful.”