Dozens of followers filled the throne room. Erador and Aminria were grabbed and forced through the crowd toward the back. Erador struggled and shouted as he was pulled between them and thrown onto his stomach before the throne’s steps.

  Erador’s breath caught from the impact. Two boots were planted on the ground, not like his father’s feet that casually rested at the throne’s base. His sights continued up the wide legs in black pants to a face with a ram’s mask with black horns instead of brown like the one in the case. Deep blue eyes peered down at him; Erador couldn’t take in air, knowing who they belonged to.

  The man stroked his long beard as his throaty laughter made Erador shiver. “How old were you when I last saw you? Twelve?”

  From the ground Taurin appeared just as large and menacing as Erador remembered. With broad shoulders and hands resting on the throne that once could’ve crushed his skull, but Erador wasn’t little anymore. His fears for Retribution emerged when he was a child, but he wasn’t the same boy Taurin could knock down with one shove.

  “It was you.” Erador tried to get up but a follower forced him back down.

  “Now let the boy up,” Taurin said. “Let’s see how he’s grown.”

  They pulled on Erador’s arms but he shoved them away and stood himself. Though he was below Taurin’s eye level, Erador no longer felt so small. He couldn't be pushed around anymore.

  “Look at you. Your father must be proud.” Taurin’s gaze lingered on the scars on Erador’s jaw. “But weakness doesn’t always show on the outside.”

  Erador narrowed his gaze. “That’s why you wear that mask. To make yourself look more intimating than you are.”

  The followers whispered and gasped.

  Taurin laughed and raised his chin. “Just because I’ve been gone doesn't mean I’ve gone soft. He cocked his head at Aminria, standing nearby. “You’re still here? Haven’t had time to reclaim your throne, princess?”

  “I see you've claimed this one,” Aminria said, with disgust. “Where are the Paradins?”

  “You don’t need to worry about them now,” Taurin said, waving a dismissive hand.

  “And my father?” Erador said.

  Taurin’s lips lifted. “Well as he can be.”

  Erador stiffened his face. “If they’re dead—”

  “Why would I kill my potential new followers?”

  Erador glimpsed back at the followers, watching him intently. He was afraid if he so much as raised his hand they would attack him. “They won’t follow you.”

  “Some were more than willing to leave, but... I still think I have a good chance.” Taurin shifted his gaze to Aminria who looked away.

  Erador bared his teeth. “I won’t.”

  “Stubborn as you always were,” Taurin said. “Torture won’t bend you. You’re a lost cause and you’re only here because of your father.”

  Erador didn’t want to fuel his insults. “Why did you kill them?”

  “It wasn’t me. Hawth did it by your father’s orders.”

  “You were involved. I saw you when Breck was stabbed.”

  “My poor nephew.” Taurin touched his chest. “It’s a shame, but that was not me. Hawth was your father’s puppet, one of his hidden Paradin’s meant to serve your father but where is he now?” he said without care.

  “Instead of stopping him you stood in the shadows and watched.”

  Taurin snickered, tugging his left sleeve closer to his wrist. “You expect me to barge in here alone when he has loyal followers? Haven’t you learned anything in your training?”

  Erador crossed his arms. “You didn’t have time to build an army since you’ve been gone?”

  “Who says I haven’t,” Taurin said, touching his ram tattoo. “I knew if I waited long enough things would fall in place themselves and everyone would come to resent Judgment.”

  “Why didn’t your army just kill us all?” Erador said, looking around. “It would’ve been a lot easier.”

  “Why should I kill victims? They deserve a chance, Erador. So do you, if you’ll take it.”

  “Join you? Never.”

  “No. No. I have something better for you.” Taurin rose and went down the steps. Erador felt like he had shrunk because Taurin was still taller and wider. He leaned toward Erador’s ear, the ram’s fur brushing his cheek. “I want you to kill your father.”

  Erador’s chest tightened. He couldn’t respond.

  “This way…” Taurin said. “He won’t get his rebirth.”

  Erador furrowed his brow. “If I don’t?”

  Taurin moved back. “You’ll be dead and so will every Paradin in there.” He flicked his sights toward Judgment’s bedroom.

  “You wouldn’t kill them all. Not Haven.”

  “Haven’s gone to Odinaty,” Taurin said. “She was traded for a bargain to keep every one alive.”

  Aminria covered her gasping mouth.

  “She’ll be dead!” Erador yelled. “I can’t believe after all these years, Haven has done nothing but tell me how much you meant to her and you would just throw her away!”

  Taurin cocked his head. “You think being a leader is easy. How do you think your father dealt with it? He had to let people go. We’d all be dead, if I didn’t.”

  “You’re a piece of shit,” Erador said. “I wish my father killed you that night. Gillian didn’t deserve punishment from you, as much I used to think she did.”

  Taurin smirked. “Where’s that little mouse?”

  “Far away from here.” Erador leaned closer.” I hope she has strength to kill you one day.”

  Taurin ran his hand across his mask. “It’s funny how you have such confidence in a small, cowardly woman.”

  A dark reddish scar on Taurin’s left wrist ran under his sleeve and Erador remained still and tried to act like he hadn’t seen it. Taurin was lying. He attacked them at Haven’s village and killed Breck who saw his scar. Did Hawth work with Taurin to help him overtake his father’s place?

  “I don’t believe you,” Erador said. “I think you killed Breck. You had something to do with Sescina, Pia, and Emera.”

  Taurin’s eyes widened for a moment, but he looked down as his lips raised into a grin.

  “You didn’t know Emera was killed, did you?” Erador said.

  The followers whispered about her death.

  Taurin raised his chin. “How would I? I’m not the killer.”

  “Then who do you think did it? I brought her here from New Akthelia.”

  “Erador,” Aminria said, worried.

  He raised his hand to shush her. “I thought she was betraying us, but she knew nothing. Then she was murdered. I know it was Hawth. But she had no ties to the promise like the murdered Paradins.”

  “It was likely because she left,” Taurin said, flatly. “Followers are bound under contract.”

  “But you never knew she died because Hawth never told you.” Erador looked at Taurin’s sleeve. “You killed Breck, and you tried to kill me in Haven’s village where a lurker marked you. You were in on it.”

  The followers whispered questions.

  Taurin raised his hands to quiet them. “I was trying to get people to revolt against Judgment. It was little Miraline who helped orchestrate the promise.”

  Erador turned to Aminria but couldn’t bring himself to say anything, just feel the lingering sting. How could they do this to him after Miraline called him a poisoner at the festival?”

  Taurin flicked his fingers and a follower brought Miraline through the archway. She was sweating and her curls were loose from her ponytail.

  “I can explain!” Miraline said, moving closer. “Taurin told me he wanted to help us and I… I believed him.”

  “You know who he is?” Erador said.

  “Yes but he made himself out to be like another victim of Judgment. The more I learned what he did to his people… it reminded me of my father.” Miraline looked at the followers. “So many people were saved by Judgment, but so many suffered to get here and some never made it. Anyone who defied his religion was killed. Every one should have a right to leave. That’s why I wanted to help them.”

  Erador shot a glare at Aminria who frowned with regret. They shouldn’t have went through Miraline—his sworn enemy. He felt disgusted for feeling sorry for her.

  “We didn’t have a choice,” Aminria said. “ I didn’t know about Taurin’s involvement.”

  Erador shook his head. “How could you trust him?"

  Miraline looked at her feet as tears streamed down her face. “I didn't know.”

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  “Why are you crying?” Taurin said, wiping a tear from her cheek. “The followers are free from Judgment like you wished.”

  Aminria lifted her chin and examined Taurin. “You think you’ll be free under him?”

  Taurin stepped toward her. “Judgment never kept his promise to you. He only said that to keep you around.”

  Aminria narrowed her gaze. “I can’t expect him to when he’s not well.”

  “You’ve been lying to yourself just like everyone. But you gave up on his promise.” He took hold of the anchor charm on her bracelet. “Lucrethia is far too secluded from the world, more lately than not.” He looked into her gaze. “Did it ever occur to you that your little brother might have already returned? I can take you to him.”

  “He’s lying Aminria!” Erador yelled.

  “But am I?” Taurin said. “He’s a lot stronger, wiser, and he still carries that little star you gave him,” he said as he brushed the moon charm.

  Aminria’s lips trembled. “Where is he?”

  “He’s safe.” He let go of her bracelet. “You need not worry your little head about him.” Taurin walked back to the throne. “I’m not forcing you to join me or trick you into doing so.” Taurin turned to Erador. “You can be free, Erador, and all your little friends too. Just take care of Judgment.”

  He said it as if it was as easy as throwing away scraps. His father wasn’t trash. He had worked tirelessly, endlessly to create Lucrethia and now he was just being tossed aside. The followers appeared hungry for it, as if they couldn’t wait a moment longer. But the Paradins didn’t deserve to be killed and had much time to live. His father was old. Dying was the only way to end his suffering.

  “I’ll do it,” Erador said, quietly.

  Taurin smiled and nodded at the followers who unbarricaded the door. Judgment was brought out by Mikra.

  “Set him down, nicely, Mikra,” Taurin said. “Let him feel what it’s like to be king one last time. It’s the least we can do.”

  Mikra gave Taurin a look of disgust before he lowered Judgment onto the throne. There were no pillows to prop him up this time and he slid down, his chin in his chest and legs dangling on the floor.

  The last Paradins came out and watched. They appeared relieved Erador and Aminria were here but they were scared. Loma wiped tears from her eyes.

  “Hold them.” Taurin said as more followers gathered around to keep the Paradins back.

  Erador wanted to shield his father from the followers, but not when he recalled everything his father put him through. But he didn’t want him to suffer by his followers hands.

  Taurin pulled out a knife and offered it to Erador. He took it and stared at his reflection in the blade and envisioned seeing the person he would become—a murderer.

  He moved up the steps toward Judgment and the Paradins gasped.

  “What are you doing?” Dethil said, struggling.

  “Erador,” Loma cried, covering her mouth.

  “Why do you cry?” Taurin said. “He’s saving you.”

  Erador shut his eyes and let out a breath, knowing every eye was on him and that blade. He reached the tip to his father’s throat, and Judgment stiffened under the blade’s touch. Tears blurred Erador’s vision. He tried to steady the blade. This wasn’t how he was supposed to die.

  Feet pounded behind him as a hand ripped the knife from him. “Don’t.” Aminria held the knife at Taurin when he tried to come toward her. “You will die. You can’t kill him.” “His geisa… it… it won’t let you.”

  “She’s right,” Fedra said. “The demon of Maltibor doesn’t allow his owner to be killed or hurt. Judgment is untouchable.”

  “What?” Jerus said. “He… he can’t die?”

  The followers whispered.

  “If someone tries to kill him… the geisa will end them,” Aminria said.

  “Can’t keep your mouth shut?” Taurin said, ripping the knife from Aminria. “This doesn’t change anything.” He slipped the knife back in his holder on his belt. “Find a way to kill him.”

  “What about the pit?” Aminria whispered in Erador’s ear. “You’re not directly killing him that way.”

  “But I’m harming him. Aren’t I?” Erador said.

  “But do you want to?”

  He didn’t and maybe that was the answer. The Geisa only hurt those with intent to harm. The pit was one place Erador never thought would be his father’s final resting place.

  Judgment waved Erador closer and he crouched, facing his ear towards his lips. “Don’t be afraid my son.”

  “Father—” Erador began.

  Judgment put a stiff finger to his lips to silence him. “If there is one thing you should listen to me about, it’s this.” He felt for Erador’s hand. “I’ve lived a long time this way. Maybe too long. It’s time I have my rebirth.”

  Erador hesitated, looking to the Paradins who watched him with sadness. What choice did he have, with the people and Taurin lingering at his back. His heart felt heavy. He wished for once his father was well and could solve all the problems like he used to. Erador was an adult. He was capable of choosing, but he felt like a child, forced to do what he was told and follow his father’s orders again when he didn’t want to.

  As his heavy eyes looked to the Paradins, it wasn’t just him who would suffer from not listening. They didn’t deserve to die from his actions.

  Erador scooped up his father and went through the archway as the Paradins and civilians followed. He reached for the knob but struggled to open it. Taurin did it for him with a forced smile and Erador glared at him and went into Judgment’s hall. Erador took a step into the dark room, blind like the followers who came in with cloth binding their eyes. He wouldn’t be judged by his father anymore, only people who followed him with echoing footsteps.

  As Erador continued through the garden, his father felt heavier than last he carried him. Shade asked if there was a way he could help but Erador had no answer. His father couldn’t be saved. He glimpsed back as the followers led the Paradins along.

  He continued into the forest as his mind became numb and his father’s silence only led him to remain in an apathetic state. Taurin’s presence lingered behind. Lanterns, the followers carried, lit the forest, not allowing him a moment in the shadows to grieve. He was exposed in the trees, and had trouble keeping his vulnerabilities in.

  He wished he could find one good moment that proved his father loved him and would give Erador a reason to miss him but it wasn’t there. He asked Shade for help, but the shadow offered nothing. Painful memories of his father were all he had to keep him company. Erador should’ve felt relieved that his father would no longer suffer, and he would finally be free of Lucrethia, but bitterness is all he could taste.

  His father would get away with everything. Erador would never fully get to express how angry he made him.

  Erador reached the clearing and walked through grass, stopping before the pit cave. People surrounded him, and watched quietly. Taurin stood the closest in his periphery, but Erador angled his head so he couldn't see him. Erador looked at his father’s frail body; he never expected him to be alive the last time he carried him.

  Judgment reached up and brushed his cheek. “Don’t be scared.”

  Erador couldn’t choke back his tears, after hearing his father speak in a caring tone. He wanted to tell himself it wasn’t genuine, and his father would carry his

  resentment for him until the end, but he couldn’t in his final moments.

  “I’m not,” Erador said, harshly.

  “You are. You just hide it.” Judgment wheezed. “You think I’m never scared?”

  Erador swallowed. “You don’t act like it.”

  “I’m scared of how it will hurt when I fall.”

  “Just the fall? We both know you’re scared to die.”

  Judgment relaxed back into his arms. “Who isn’t?”

  “It’s because you can’t let go of yourself and your legacy. This is your chance to accept death.” Erador tried to say it strongly, but his voice slipped.

  “I’ll only accept it when I’ve done what I must,” Judgment said.

  Erador’s jaw tensed. He hated how he was unwilling to accept death, and apologize for everything he’d done wrong to Erador and everyone else. It would be something good to remember his father by.

  “Erador,” Judgment said.

  Erador wanted to snap at him, but bit his tongue, not wanting to ruin his chances to hear his final words.

  “Find Medina. Tell her where my body lies.”

  Erador pressed his lips together. He was a fool for expecting anything from his father at this point.

  “It’s time,” Taurin said.

  Erador let out a slow breath and looked at the pit, but he was hesitant to let his father go. It was no different than that day when he held that whip. He would have to let go before he was ready. It wouldn’t help Erador, it wouldn’t change what his father did. At the very least and with time, Erador could heal. It was all he could hope for.

  “This is only the beginning,” Judgment said. “Goodbye, my son. I love you.”

  Erador wanted to tell his father he hated him for so many reasons, but he couldn’t bring himself to say anything. He let go. His father dropped into the pit. Judgment’s screams were lost in the follower’s cheers. Flinching, Erador looked around. The Paradins and Miraline were the only ones who appeared broken.

  Taurin approached him and Erador stiffened as his gaze averted to the knife he held.

  “Your father will be more than proud,” Taurin whispered.

  Taurin smirked through his beard and left through the trees. The followers went next like sheep who found a new shepherd.

  Loma pulled him into a hug. “I’m so sorry, Erador,” she choked.

  A tear dripped down his cheek as he buried his face into her shoulder.

  “I know it wasn’t an easy decision.” Loma let go and brushed a tear from his cheek.

  Eonidas rubbed Erador’s shoulder and frowned. “I can’t say it was right, but you saved us.”

  Jerus nodded. “We can move on from this. Try to come back stronger.”

  Cade moved up with his canes. “It should be harder for me but… I didn't spend much time with him." He raised his shoulders and swallowed. “I won’t have a chance to know him better.”

  “I know,” Erador said.

  “Maybe it’s better this way.” Cade lifted his lip. “Avoided me becoming broken like you.”

  Erador chuckled lightly and rubbed his shoulder. “Can’t say I’m not envious.”

  He turned to Fedra by the pit, staring inside as she talked with Miraline about how they were grateful Judgment accepted them in Lucrethia. Erador let their positive thoughts in, because he didn’t have many of his father. He wouldn’t have met everyone here if he hadn’t helped them.

  Dethil shifted in his view, hands shoved in his pockets. “It shouldn’t have been this way.”

  “But it’s done,” Erador said.

  “They made you take his life.” Dethil’s eyes widened. “You didn’t have to.”

  “We already sacrificed enough for him.” Erador looked to the pit. “It’s better he’s gone.”

  Erador patted Dethil’s back as he walked past him, towards Aminria hugging Mikra. She let him go and turned to Erador, tears streaming down her cheeks. She threw her arms around him and sobbed into his chest.

  Loss and pain seeped into Erador, but it wasn’t only for himself. It was for all of them. It was more than Judgment’s death. They cared for him the last twenty years. What would they do now? No matter how much Erador wanted to cry, he couldn’t. Not seeing his father dead, didn’t solidify that he was truly gone.

  He looked up to Mikra who didn’t display any emotion.

  “You did a good thing,” Mikra said, signing his hands.

  Erador wasn’t sure what that meant. Mikra had been loyal to Judgment for years. How could he say that?

  As Aminria rubbed Erador’s arm and moved to the group, Mikra leaned toward him. “Don’t think you have time to rest.”

  He was right. It wasn’t over.

  Erador was burdened by what would happen when his father was gone. Hawth could be alive. He wasn’t sure how to handle it, he wasn’t sure where to go, and he wasn’t sure he could help Haven.

  “What do we do know?” Erador said.

  The remaining Paradins faced him.

  “Well,” Loma said, stepping forward as she tapped her fingers. “Retribution has offered us to stay.”

  “You're going to?” Erador said, looking to them all.

  “We have nowhere else to go,” Loma said.

  Erador scoffed. “Is this a joke? He threatened us and we have no idea how he will lead.”

  “He told us we have a place here and can leave if we wish.”

  “It’s not like Judgment,” Eonidas said, rubbing his mark.

  “How do you know that won’t change?”

  The Paradins looked away from him.

  “Mikra?” Erador said, loudly to make sure he heard him. “He ruined your family.”

  Mikra didn’t respond but flinched as if he still couldn’t forgive Retribution for it. How did he live with him all these years?”

  “Dethil?” Erador said, but he looked at his feet as Jerus patted his back and it felt like nothing had changed.

  “Aminria?” Erador said.

  She didn’t respond, only rubbed the moon on her bracelet.

  “I can’t believe this.”

  Maybe Eli was right. They were too comfortable with their lives this way. No one else had the guts to leave but him. He could see Medina but part of him was afraid to see what she would have to say. Why would his father propose that idea after being against him meeting her?

  “Fine,” Erador said, “I’m not staying here.” He stormed toward the trees ignoring their pleas for him to return. As he reached the edge, he glimpsed back to see them watching. They didn’t even try to fight for him to stay after he saved them. What more could he expect after all he’d done? They were here for Judgment and now they were staying for Retribution. Absolution wouldn’t save them.