10. Zai
Zai
To the death.
My chest constricted as I struggled to breathe, dragging my feet across the courtyard.
I wasn’t ready to die.
Val waited in the center of the sparring area. The stone benches surrounding the circle were packed with the lucky few who’d managed to snatch a seat. The rest lined up behind them, buzzing with expectation.
The sun hung low over the western forest, bathing the cascading city below the palace in orange glow.
My fingers twitched at my sides, already bolstering my body in anticipation.
Father occupied one bench, his guards standing in a semicircle behind him. His black formal robes matched his jet-black hair, pulled into a tight knot. He sat tall and imposing, transforming the simple bench into a throne.
His dark eyes trailed me as I approached. No warmth, no encouragement. Just watching. Waiting.
Iz joined him at his side, chin lifted, expression locked behind that careful mask she’d perfected over the years.
Shiori huddled close to her noble family, lip curled in barely concealed disgust as she stared at her husband. But Val’s gaze stayed fixed on me.
He’d already stripped away his festive finery, leaving his chest bare. Smirking, he rolled his shoulders, radiating confidence, as compact and solid as the mountain behind me.
I stepped into the training ring, and every face turned toward me. The air hummed with anticipation, my pulse thundering in my ears. I shrugged off my own satin attire, leaving me in only my trousers. The crisp mountain wind swept across my bare skin, raising gooseflesh along my arms.
With a steadying breath, I popped open the spiraling black horn streaked with golden veins at my belt, feeding heat into the metal lump inside. The horn of a mountain cravik was the only material that could contain molten metal while remaining cool to the touch.
Val did the same with his horn, and our metal flowed into the air between us. He moved first, launching a glowing spike at my chest.
I flattened my metal into a shield, and his spike slammed into it. Flinging my arm out, I merged them into a spear, whipping it toward him.
He spun clear of its path while conjuring more metal from his horn.
“That the best you’ve got?” he called, tone dripping with mockery.
Gritting my teeth, I pulled the spear back and reshaped it mid-flight into a blade.
Light exploded across my vision. I squeezed my eyes shut, but the brightness seared through my eyelids. Blinding an opponent, the oldest trick in the book. I should have seen it coming. Ashes and embers, I should have used it first.
But I’d trained for this. Fought blind more times than I could count.
I dropped into a defensive stance and tracked his metal among the hundreds of heat signatures of the gathered crowd. There. His blade came from the left. I blocked with a shield. Another strike from the right, blocked again.
Sweat trickled down my back as I zeroed in on Val’s body heat. Twisting my fingers, I reshaped my metal into a cluster of darts and hurled them at him. They slammed into a shield similar to the one I’d produced.
Before I could retract the darts, two heat signatures swept toward me from both sides. I twisted, dodging the first, but the second caught me in the back.
Bones cracked inside—at least one rib, maybe more. The bolster I’d woven through my body absorbed the pain, but the force knocked the air from my lungs. I hit the ground hard, a tang of copper flooding my mouth.
The blinding light vanished.
Val’s shadow fell over me. “Pathetic.” His boot slammed into my shoulder, flipping me onto my back. “You’re still as weak and incapable as the day you killed our mother.”
Rage and shame twisted in my chest. He was right, of course. My powers were weak. They always had been. No matter how hard I trained, how far I pushed myself, I never measured up.
Val’s laugh haunted me as he sent a glowing spear through my upper arm, pinning me to the ground. No pain registered, only the odd sensation of muscle and tissue shifting around the metal, straining against the intrusion.
With a cruel grin, Val turned to the crowd. “Look at him. Despicable, isn’t he? A disgrace to the royal family.”
My gaze settled on Father, stone-faced and motionless, watching his sons fight to the death.
My chest tightened.
Ruthlessness.
That’s what he expected of me.
As Val faced the crowd, I curled my fingers, melting the spear embedded in my arm. I twisted it out of me and reshaped some of it into a spike.
Pushing myself into a sitting position, I thrust one arm out. The crowd gasped, and Val spun toward me. Instead of hitting his back, the spike struck his arm, lodging itself in his flesh.
He jerked back, disbelief flickering across his features. “Attacking when I have my back turned? That’s dishonorable!”
“It’s not dishonorable,” I snarled. “It’s strategy.”
His face twitched with fury. “You char-tainted little ash-wretch!”
He raised his hands, and something struck the back of my head. I crashed forward onto my hands and knees. Blazing void, I should’ve paid attention to the metal scraps littering the ground from our fight.
Val’s boot slammed into my shoulder, flipping me onto my side.
He straddled me, pummeling heated fists at my face, pouring years of hatred into every blow. I blocked one, two, three strikes. Then his fist caught my jaw and my head snapped sideways. Another hit, and my face jolted to the other side.
My ears rang with each blow. Was this how I would die? Couldn’t he at least make it quick and just pierce my heart with his metal?
Like I’d done to Mother.
A numbing surrender washed over me. Maybe this was what I deserved. Beaten to death by my own brother.
But Mother would have been appalled if she’d seen us now.
The thought ignited something in me.
“Val—” I gasped between blows, my voice raw and desperate. “Val!” I caught his next strike in my palm. “This isn’t what Mother would’ve wanted.”
He pulled back. A darkness deeper than the abyss itself flickered in his eyes.
“Don’t you dare speak of her.” His face contorted with rage. “You killed her, you ash-born filth!”
I sucked in a ragged breath. “I didn’t mean to.”
“Who scorching cares? You killed her nonetheless. If it weren’t for you, she’d still be alive.”
His fist slammed into my side. My arms dropped to protect my middle and he punched my unguarded face again.
But the words hit harder than any blow. Shame flooded my veins like poison, because he was right. If not for me, Mother would still be alive. The world would’ve been a better place if I’d never been born.
“This is undignified.” Father’s voice cut across the training area.
Val’s hands stilled, his gaze snapping up.
Father’s imposing figure stepped into view. He glared down at me like I’d crawled out from beneath his boot.
“Pathetic, Zaivareth.” His dark eyes drilled into mine. “You can’t even die with honor.”
The words drove into me, shattering my already broken heart.
His gaze shifted to my brother. “But he’s right, Val. This isn’t what Arylin would have wanted.”
Father scanned the crowd. “I hereby pronounce Valaric the victor.”
My ears rang, a hollow whine drowning out the crowd’s buzzing murmurs. Could Father just end the duel like this? I wasn’t dead yet. No, he probably just wanted Val to stop dragging it out.
His attention swung back to me. “And you, Zaivareth…”
I braced for execution. For him to order Val to deliver the final blow.
“You’re exiled from the Sun Kingdom.”
Gasps rippled through the crowd.
Val stepped off me. “Father, you can’t be serious! That’s not—”
One sharp look from Father silenced him.
I blinked, trying to focus through my blurred vision.
Exiled.
The word echoed through my mind.
This moment would be forever etched into the collective memory of the Kingdom. The sun prince, beaten bloody and cast out like a bucket of filth. Not even worthy of execution.
Maybe I should beg for Val to end me. At least death by duel carried a shred of dignity. Exile meant I’d be stripped of my title and forced to head into a territory that would likely kill me anyway.
But I’d already humiliated myself enough when I pleaded for Val to stop. When I exposed his tactics to Therovan. When I called out his loveless marriage. I couldn’t disgrace my family further.
I poured what strength I had left into my bolster and pushed to my feet. Every muscle strained against my commands, numb and stiff, as if they belonged to someone else.
Father’s stone-cold gaze tracked my every move while Val’s fury burned into me. Shiori pressed a hand over her mouth, like she might be sick. Iz stood rigid, arms wrapped around herself. Her dark eyes followed me, giving nothing away—the same distant mask she’d worn since Mother died.
Keeping my spine straight, I turned from the crowd of judging eyes.
Each breath scraped against my chest, like something inside had shifted out of place. My vision swam and I staggered as the ground tilted beneath me.
But I refused to add fainting to my failures. Not here. Not now.
I forced my legs forward. One step. Another.
Familiar faces hovered on all sides, but no one moved. Suffocating silence pressed down on me as I stumbled off the training ring, alone.
Always alone.