Chapter 67
CHAPTER 67
Dayton
G ods, I want to kiss her. She’s beautiful of course, even if she doesn’t look like the Rosie I’m entirely used to, with her golden hair and scale-brushed cheeks. But there’s a light in her that always shines through. “Did I ever tell you how cute these are?” I say, flicking her webbed ears.
“Day!”
“Listen to me, Blossom.” I grab her hand. “This is something I have to do on my own. Can you keep yourself safe?”
“I understand. Don’t worry about me,” she says.
“All right then. I’ve got a crowd to entertain.” I wink and leap up from behind the vines and into the bright light. Pure adrenaline is keeping me going at this point, and I refuse to acknowledge the pain that stems from my wounds. They’re bad, but if I don’t push through it, we’ll be dead, and that’s worse.
The sun burns my eyes, and I blink to adjust my vision. Damocles and Decimus stand near the center of the arena.
“Was that my name I heard?” I say, the echosphere amplifying my voice to the arena. “Sorry, just needed a quick nap.”
Laughter roils through the crowd. Good. The only thing Damocles hated more than me being a shit was a good time and a smile.
Sure enough, my older brother’s light-stricken glare reflects in the glint of his steel. Beside him, Decimus looks nothing if not sturdy and determined with his red shield and sword.
Both my brothers are formidable opponents on their own, and here I am, trying to take them both on. But I always was one for bad ideas.
I tighten my grip on my twin blades, feeling their familiar weight. I know I can’t match their strength head-on, but I have other advantages—agility, cunning, and the fact that I’m not made of fucking light. I dart forward, using the dense foliage to conceal my movements.
Damocles charges, blades flashing in the sunlight, his confidence palpable. I evade his blows, dancing between the pillars like a shadow, waiting for the opportune moment to strike. Decimus moves to flank me, his shield raised defensively, but I refuse to be cornered. Instead, I lead them on a merry chase, darting in and out of cover, wearing down their stamina.
“Are we fighting or dancing?” Decimus roars. He swings his sword at me hard. I spring out of the way, and it strikes a pillar, causing the whole thing to crumble.
“Nice one, Dec.” I smirk, flitting backward. “You always were the strongest of us brothers.”
Damocles huffs. “He wishes.” My eldest brother, never one to be outdone, slices his twin blades through a huge vine blocking our path.
Very good , I think. Keep tiring yourself out.
“The real Damocles could have done that to stone,” I call.
“What riddles do you speak, little brother?” Damocles spits.
The warriors of light never realize what they are, but the crowd does. I have to remind them these are just illusions.
“I’m only saying it’s a good thing you’re here, brothers.” I narrowly duck below a combined strike from both of them. “I always wondered if I kept my record of wins in the arena because I never faced either of you. Now, we’ll see who the true champion is.”
“Not one so cocky and foolhardy as you,” Damocles spits.
Damocles’ blades slash through the air with deadly precision. I spring into action. With a swift motion, I dart to the side, ducking behind one of the pillars. Damocles follows, his arrogance driving him without hesitation. But as he moves to strike, I vanish into the shadows.
Meanwhile, Decimus presses the attack, his shield raised in a defensive stance. I can see the strain in his movements, the weariness creeping into his limbs. I unleash a flurry of strikes, my twin swords a blur of steel as I barrage him from all sides. His shield wavers, his defenses faltering.
The crowd roars its approval. But I can’t just play with them. I must have the strength to end this. To claim what’s mine in front of the people of Summer. The Blessing is mine. I need to show them why.
Something glimmers golden in my peripheral vision. Rosalina.
I’ll win this for her. For the man she believes I am. A man who can save his people. A man worthy of his Blessing.
“Hey, brothers, did you ever think you’d fight a High Prince upon the sands?” I leap into the open.
“An unworthy title for a coward,” Decimus roars, closing in. His shield pushes me back, his sword a relentless barrage of strikes. I parry and dodge, my muscles screaming with exertion, the heat unrelenting, but I refuse to yield. I press forward, exploiting the chinks in Decimus’ defense, until finally, his strength wanes, and his attacks falter.
“No,” I growl back. “To fight in the arena is an honor. It is our way. What’s dishonorable is chopping your brother’s ears off and begging for the Blessing through twisted words. You are unworthy of being a High Prince.” I point my sword skyward to Kairyn. “What’s twisted is making the people of Summer watch the princes who died defending them in battle fight in your games, while you dine with the servants of those who gave them the true death.”
“Shut it off—” Broken words, Kairyn’s words, the echosphere cutting in and out. “Stop him—”
The crowd roars in response, anger and repulsion evident.
“I will end this for them. I will end this for Summer,” I snarl. It doesn’t matter now if the people hear me. They’ll see what I plan to do.
There’s no hesitation in me now. My brothers appear as nothing more than flickers of light. It’s not Damocles, not Decimus.
I land between them, feet shifting in the sand as they move to attack me on all sides. In the arena’s pulsing heart, amid the ancient pillars and verdant greens, I stand, twin blades glinting with resolve. This was always my world more than theirs. They fought in it; they did their duty. But never did they win the crowd like I did. Never did they find the pure flash of life between strikes of the sword.
As the crowd’s fervor crescendos, I seize the moment. With a deft twist, I disarm my brothers, their swords clattering like forgotten echoes. With each strike, my heart races with the rhythm of their fading breaths.
My swords find their marks with haunting precision. Damocles and Decimus’s eyes widen, hearts pierced by their brother. As I hold their gazes one final time, I wonder if this is how they looked at the end, on that battlefield, as their life ebbed, as they felt the Blessing of Summer float away … Did they think of me?
Think of the brother that abandoned them?
“I’m sorry,” I say, tears flowing down my face. The magic flickers out, their bodies drifting away into motes of dusty light. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save you. But I promise, I will do whatever it takes to save our people.”
Their forms drift away entirely, and my swords are as clean as when I stepped into the arena. The only blood left on my chest is mine.
The ringing in my ears fades, and the roar of the crowd breaks through. Cheers for me, mixed with something else. Voices rise in protest, cries of anguish mingling with shouts of condemnation as the crowd rails against the cruelty displayed by Emperor Kairyn.
A presence stands before me.
“Whatever it takes,” Rosalina says.
So, she heard me. That explains the tinge of sadness in her voice, the same one writhing through me now.
I will see the Summer Realm freed from this tyranny. Whatever it takes. But we both know what it’ll take for me to reclaim Summer.
My full unbridled magic.
There’s only one woman who can give me that.
And it’s not the one beside me.