"Please"
The word slipped out—not like a whisper, but like a warning. It echoed against the marble pillars and coiled up into the high gold-carved ceilings of the throne room, where even silence could feel heavy enough to choke a man.
Two figures stood against the vastness of that solemn hall. One sat—tall and motionless—upon the obsidian throne that rose like a shadowed flame from the dais. The other stood below it, right where all the nobles had always stood: beneath the throne, never beside it.
Their eyes locked.
The one seated was the King. Erevan, the firstborn son, the rightful monarch, the flame-blooded dragon of the empire. The weight of the crown pressed into his brow, yet he bore it like a second skin—flawless, grave, unshakable. His expression did not waver. Not for ministers. Not for generals. Not for the lords who bowed and begged beneath his feet. But for this one man—for his brother—his gaze lingered, colder than winter steel.
The one who stood was Carlos, the younger, yet no less a force than the one who ruled. The Duke of the realm. The Lion of the kingdom. The sword behind its peace, the fire beneath its spine. And though he was younger, though he bore no crown, though he stood where others bowed—he did not kneel.
He could not.
For he had looked into war and survived. He had broken chains with his bare hands, shattered plots with silence, and dragged his brother back from death with nothing but blood on his arms and defiance in his soul.
Yet now, he was the one pleading.
And he knows very well how this all started. A simple conversation.
*****
Erevan has always been a king, the day he took Carlos to the queen's funeral without talking to his father, the current king, or the day he had killed the father of his for his brother. He never had shown any emotion besides boredness. He was 10 when he took Carlos in and he had announced Carlos as his brother in front of nobles to protect Carlos. He was 10 when he got beaten by his father for taking Carlos as his brother. He was only 12 when he did the first time killing because of Carlos who had been attacked by assassins. And he was only 14 when he killed his own father, the king and took the throne and made Carlos the duke of the eastern region. And he had never regretted it and that is what made Carlos respect and admire him. The funny thing is that the previous king's god didn't even help the king because he was too boring. Instead of helping the god watch the future king, Erevan destroys his own father, the present king.
The things Erevan did are mostly for Carlos. No, everything is for Carlos.
And Carlos, he can never dare to hurt his brother. Let alone kill him. Even if he tries, his brother will always be stronger than him. And now Carlos is waiting in front of the heavy door of the throne room to meet his one and only family, his brother and his saviour,--the king that sacrificed everything for him. Carlos has walked this path before and stood in front of this door, once as his brother's little boy, then as a man filled with endless regrets and promises. Now, he is neither boy nor man, but something else entirely–something broken, something missing, something lost. He is going to fight his beloved brother and he had no choice but to fight.
He had a choice. His brother had said in the past that he wants to travel the world. Carlos just needs to take him to the outside world and let him get a taste of freedom.
Why care about the kingdom when Carlos had destroyed everything that would ruin everything for his brother.
—-YES. I just need to talk to him. Then we will go.
With a breath that shook his heart, he placed his right hand against the door and pushed. The doors howled open, a sorrowing of time and duty. The throne room was extensive, its domed ceiling stretching beyond sight, the room filled with darkness. And there, the moon is shining bright and upon the throne of this empire, sat his brother, the brightest star of the Moonier empire.
King. Monarch. Ruler. No longer just the little boy who is only a year older than Carlos or a boy who chased the sun like a dream, no longer the youth who had sworn oaths of brotherhood, no longer the older brother who swore to protect Carlos. The crown glowed upon his face like a moon shining with stars, a circlet of gold and silver that seemed heavier than the weight of the empire itself.
"Little Carl." the king spoke, his voice carrying gentleness across the room and the distance between them. It was neither condemned nor cold, it was welcoming and warm, it was the voice of a kin, not a king. It is just his brother, his brother's hair falls in soft, uneven layers, a blend of cyan touched with dark blue, like a seafoam kissed by deep ocean currents. It framed his face loosely, brushing over tired eyes that hold the serene green of an untouched forest–deep, calm, endless, unwavering, as if they've witnessed every sunrise through the trees and still believe in the beauty of the world after all the suffering from those gods. His face is beautiful in a worn–the kind of face that once might've been godlike in its youth, but now carries the shadows of battles not just fought, but endured. Faint lines linger beneath his eyes, craved by sleepless nights and burdens too heavy for a mortal soul. Yet he is still smiling not to his mother, not to anyone, only to him, his little brother.
Carlos stepped forward, each footstep echoing in the cavernous hall. He felt the eyes of the king, no– his brother's eyes upon him. And he stood not too close or not too far. Just enough to show that he is his little brother and his loyal duke at the same time. And his head raised and his face turned toward his king, his older brother's eyes. His brother's eyes are dark, no emotion, no shine and no gentleness unlike the voice of his. Carlos' own voice hesitated and faltered before he found it again.
"Your Majesty…Brother"
A flicker of something—pain? Memory? Suffering? — crosses the king's face, yet it went quickly as the smoke disappeared into the air "You have returned."
"I have"
"It has been a long time."
"It had been 10 years, Brother."
A silence stretched between them, an abyss of time and regret, a line of choice and promise made and paths forsaken. He had once fought for this empire as his brother's loyal dog. He didn't care if he got called the dog or he got into a war at the age of 18. It doesn't matter if it is by his brother's side. He had once held his brother's trust as a sacred thing and thought that his brother must have a reason for him to put him in ruthless war. As the time becomes longer as he stays in the war, he understands his brother more. The war is more safe than he is in the empire. He had to fight again and again but at least he knew he would survive, but not in the empire. Everyday is a nightmare in that empire and every god helps that woman to see if he can survive. And he had no god to help him unless he stuck besides his brother's side his whole entire life. But Carlos realized that he may be safe in the war but his brother is not safe in that empire at all. His brother had given himself to those cruel gods to save him.
But wars ended, and his brother had changed because of those gods. And it only puts distance between them.
The brothers looked at each other, as if they knew that fate has played their destiny and now both brothers are waiting on who will start first to fight. And as fate has displayed, only one of them will be alive. And only one of them would stand when all was done. The weight of it hung between them, unspoken but undeniable. The silence had been noticeable. And Carlos can't keep it anymore. Between the two brothers, Carlos was the one who always tried to break the silence every time. Even though Carlos wasn't one for long conversations–his replies to others were often clipped, sharp, brutal and barely more than a nod or a grunt. But around his brother, he becomes a different person, more like night turns into day in an instance. He spoke in full sentences and never stopped while his brother listened to every single word and took it to his mind.
Now Carlos tried to speak as always… but no words came. He tried again and again to speak and he failed again and again. But the voice rings in the room, it is not his nor the other. It is from his brother, Erevan.
"10 years disappeared in a thin light and now it is time to come back"
Welcome home, my knight
I have been waiting for you"
Carlos' breath caught. His brother was never the one to speak first. His brother is the kind of person to listen to his nonsense and his fighting techniques and stay quiet instead of engaging in conversations. Carlos' heart thundered, and for the first time in years, he questioned.
"For what?"
His brother didn't speak back and Carlos became more desperate. He wanted to know if what Kave said was true. Carlos had killed his soldier for the sake of his brother, even if Kave crossed the line first, Carlos still killed the man and said to him that Carlos doesn't believe him before Kave died. And his guilt hasn't gone away yet.
"I heard some rumors from the outside"
"..."
"It is true, brother?
It is true that you are going to kill me."
*****
A simple question. Turned into a fight.
*****
"rumor … from who"
"This is none of your business"
"Rumors are the swords between people, easy to bleed, easy to shutter"
"Yes, only if it is true"
"You're wrong, it is a poison if you believed it already. That doesn't matter if it is wrong or not"
"You are talking too much, brother. If it goes like that, i might even think that the rumor is true"
"It is true."
"what?"
"The rumor…it is true. That I summoned you not to reward but to remove"
"..." the room falls quiet, the weight of the throne and family pressing down on the two sons of the same blood. Carlos never imagined that his brother would agree. He never even thought about that. Now that his brother is speaking with his own mouth, Carlos thought…
—-Is it worth it? He has nothing, no gods to support him, no blessings. Yet he still fought in that war, bled for the empire, for his brother. For everything that his brother has done for him, he wanted to pay back. That is the reason he survived in that war full of people with blessings. He survived the war between gifted ones for his brother. And his brother didn't even deny the rumor.
—-Wait, did he want his brother to deny?
Did Carlos want it?
—-Hell, yes he wanted to. He wanted his brother to say it was a lie, say it was a mistake, say it is because of his brother's god wish. Everything but agreeing to that sentence.
Carlos laughs, putting his right hand upon his head and head up. And laugh menacingly. Like a psychopath. Yet his brother didn't look shocked, he just sat there watching Carlos laugh to the end. Carlos thought his brother should have lied, if he did Carlos would believe him immediately like he had always believed him. After that he stopped laughing, that feel like a fucking joke.
The silence cracked like thunder when Carlos stepped forward. Not fast, not rushed—deliberate. Each step echoed in the hollow chamber like a drumbeat of the war. Carlos thought of fighting the king but he never really dared to. But his brother did not deny, that means his brother is going to kill him. And the time had come for Carlos to fulfil the promise that he had made with his brother. Carlos is going to fight back.
"So you are actually going to kill me"
"Yes. That is true."The king rose from the throne, robes whispering around him, and for a moment, the two brothers simply stood there. Eye to eye. Blood to blood. Betrayer and betrayed.
"Is that a part of your story too?" Carlos said, his voice hoarse.
—Please say it is true
The king tilted his head."Yes, it is but….
—Yes, he said it.
"But to kill you by myself is my own choice.
I thought you would be more acceptable if I am the one who do that"
"But I don't want that.
I came here to take you…You said you want to travel."
"..."
"Brother, leave everything and come with me. Travel the world with me, i will protect you"
"If only it was that easy, little Carl"
"It is not easy but I can try…no we can try. But first we need to take a step. And that step is for you to take my hand. Take my hand, brother. Come with me." Carlos said while handing his right hand to his brother and hoping he would take it. And Elevan just stood there—unwilling to move. His face was covered with shockness and pain— yet it went quickly into coldness as the storm in the snowy mountain.
The silence that followed was heavier than stone, steel and even than diamond.
The king, his brother didn't move.
Carlos' hand trembled, suspended between hope and heartbreak.
"Please"
*****
And that is how those guys end up fighting. What a joke. If one of them just shut up and had a full reunion or the other just denied all those questions, they wouldn't be fighting right now.
But Carlos wasn't the one to plead, he forgave.
Now that he is the one who was begging, it felt like a joke. And it burned. Gods, it burned him from the inside out.
The throne sat above him like judgment itself, but it wasn't the height of the dais or the weight of gold that made Carlos's breath catch in his throat—it was Erevan's eyes.
The same eyes that once shone like a lighthouse in the storm when they were boys. The same ones that had watched over him through illness and nightmares, through training and trauma. The only pair of eyes in the world that could make Carlos feel like a child again. A simple mind child. Not a lion that clothed in blood, not the one who slaughtered soldiers, mothers and children in the name of his kingdom, not the one who stood equal as the ones with divine blessings even though not having one himself and obviously not someone as who named the reaper.
But now, they stared down at him with the sharp detachment of a king.
Carlos clenched his fists behind his back. He had been raised to speak with command, with law, with fire—but now he stood on the polished stone of the throne room, his voice breaking not from fear, but from something far worse.
"Please," he said again.
A word not meant for him. A word not meant for lions that slaughtered the other kingdoms without mercy.
But it was the only word that held his brother's name without shaking the kingdom itself.
And Erevan said nothing.
Not yet.
Not ever.
The silence between them was no longer empty. It was full—of years, of blood, of battles fought side by side, of promises made beneath starless skies. And now, with the throne between them, even brotherhood felt like a battlefield.
Carlos did not bow.
But in that moment, his heart did. His voice did. His feelings did.
And still, Erevan, no the king did not rise.
His brother stood motionless—an unmoving monument to all that gone wrong.
And the silence, Carlos had always thought to protect his brother, means to become the sword that ends the others that try to ruin his brother. But Carlos finally understood: to protect his brother now meant becoming the sword that ended him. Not out of hate. Not out of pride. But out of his mercy.
A single tear traced down Carlos cheek as he let his hand fall and grabbed his sword. It had been a long time since he had let tears fall down and coldness had taken his face. Now he understands, his brother is truly the one that can break him like that.
The king watched how Carlos' hand fell and grabbed the sword. He sighs as he also grabs his own sword.
"So, you have made a choice"
"..." Erevan didn't say anything. The older brother he had long respected had turned into a true leader and he should be feeling proud. But it is hard, why is it hard? He should have understood him. Yes. He should understand him.
"It is a good choice"
Then both of them lunged.
Steel met steel with the scream of betrayal,of brothers turned enemies for fate and destiny. Their blades clashed like thunder, echoing the whole room. Blow after blow, they fought—not for the throne, but for survival and the memories of the boys they used to be.
And with every clash, Carlos felt something break deeper inside him, not just trust, not just loyalty but heartbreak for his brother consuming with—
Love.
The king's eyes flared with a cold light, unnatural and ancient. As their swords were crushed again and again and locked, Carlos had realized that frost curled up the steel of the king's blade, crawling towards Carlos' sword like a serpent of winter. With a sudden burst, the king shoved Carlos back and swept his free hand through the air. And before the king can swirl again, Carlos jumps back to not touch the sword filled with frost. And Carlos saw ice explode across the floor as if the snowy storm had crossed throughout the whole room.
"You can't win this." the king said, voice layered with magic, breath fogging in the sudden chill. Carlos can feel it deeply.
"You had no blessings, no powers and especially no gods to support you.
And i don't like wasting time"
Carlos' breath came in clouds, his fingers numbed from the cold biting through his gloves. Even though he was able to avoid the explosion, his sword still caught the frost. Still, he stood tall.
"I had survived without those guys for a long time already.
I don't need them, I don't need powers nor blessings.
I have rage, brother. And I have purpose.
And it is to free you."
The king raised his sword again, this time wreath in shards of ice that howled like wind through mountain peaks. He brought it down with unnatural speed, the cold cracking the floor in his wake—but Carlos was already moving. He knows that move. He knows what his brother would do. Carlos' memories are still clear, he trained with his brother again and again until he won against his brother. Even so, Carlos knows his brother never uses his full strength. Carlos duck beneath the blow and answer with a savage slash that sparked against the king's cloak.
Each movement was a defiance. The King fought like a god— elegant, destructive, otherworldly. Even though it is not the time, Carlos had no choice but to admire. His brother had never fought with such a facial expression. That is truly new for Carlos. And for some reason, the world is slowing down as it is grateful for his brother's face. As he was thinking, the swords lunged towards like a storm. Only then did Carlos realize that he is still fighting his brother. Carlos then focused again and fought like a man with nothing left to lose. Every step he took cracked the ice, every parried blow chipped away at the king's confidence.
"You were always the better swordsman." the king admitted, circling Carlos as if the wolf were circling his prey before eating.
"Thanks to you and the war." Carlos said back, not breaking eye contact with the king.
For a moment, Carlos was taken aback as he saw his brother smile on his motionless face. The smile he thought that he would never see again. Not after seeing each other again. It had been 10 years since he was in a war. He thought he would never see his one and only family again, he thought he would never see this smile again. And now his brother was smiling at him while they fought to the death. It is truly incredible.
Carlos never thought he would be fighting his brother as soon as he came back, not even imagine. He would never imagine.
But before he could speak, the ice swords that his brother had created had already attacked him. And Carlos avoided all the ices while running, he saw his brother standing as he watched Carlos avoiding all those attacks. With a roar, Carlos surged toward his brother. As expected the king saw it coming as ice formed a barrier— but the king didn't think about Carlos' craziness. 10 years in war against people with divine powers, he always took the first step. If it is called crazy in a way, Carlos would be the most sane person.
Erevan's shield is hard, no one has ever managed to break it. Of course only if you let it to the point of hard core. The longer you wait or think about what to do, Erevan's shield becomes stronger. And no one knows that. After all, every knight or magician was taken aback and found a way to break it when Erevan did his shield not knowing they had already lost.
But Carlos was not them. Carlos is a sane person and he still is. Carlos shattered it with brute force. His own hands and fingers were bleeding.
So, what is the use for a sword if you are not going to use it.
The king was taken aback by that. But the shockless was quickly returned into motion as the king focused again. Swords flashing and crashing again and again. Carlos drove the king back, blow after blow, until sparks flew and frost broke down by his pure force.
And Carlos' hand, it is bleeding. But Carlos had no time to care. He had to fulfill the promise. He needs to survive. He needs to free him.
Frost still clung to the air, thick as smoke, but the king's movements were slowing. Each spell he summoned left a scar across the room as there is no place that has not been touched with the snowy ice. And the king showed a shimmer of exhaustion in his eyes, the frost on his blade melting and dimming like dying embers.
Blessings or powers were mighty, but they were hungry— they drank from the soul, from the strength behind the owner's heart. That is why it can only be used by healthy people. And Carlos knows that his brother is not a part of them. His brother's heart had always been weak. That is why he never really leaves the castle even if he wanted to. His wish to travel the world can't be fulfilled. It is not because he didn't want to but because he can't. His heart wouldn't make it. Carlos had already made the choice of giving his heart to his brother if he had accepted his hand. But since he didn't, Carlos had no choice but to watch his brother's suffering.
And Carlos saw it. He felt it.
His brother's grip faltered. His breath came ragged. The crown sat heavy on his brow and the hand in the place of his heart. For once Carlos though, having no blessings is good for some reasons. Even if you don't have blessing, you can still become a knight or more powerful, a general by only focusing on physical strength and swordsmanship. But with blessings, what is the point of being powerful when you don't know if you will die tomorrow because of mana outbreak or worse your body breaking to pieces. Even a healthy person would become insane after using too much power. Someone who is like his brother, it is a miracle that he could last to his late 20. Carlos had tried so hard to come back in time for that reason.
Now he is using that reason to free his own brother.
"You have become tired." Carlos said, voice low and steady. If it was not that he had been to war or not having an experience in fighting his brother, he would not be able to follow him at all.
The king snarled and raised his other hand again—but his magic fizzled, sputtering out into mist. His face shows pain and after a moment, the king coughs again and again until the blood also flows from his mouth. And that moment of weakness was all Carlos needed
"I win" Carlos as if he was not bleeding from his hands, arms and legs and also from his mouth. But Carlos knows that this is not worse compared to his brother's. But his brother brought his sword again to lunge at him yet it barely moved as he fell back. Carlos watched that scene unfold. He had beat his brother. What now as Carlos was thinking—--
"Hurry up."
"Kill me, I lose"
".....Do I really have to do that?..."
"You have to.
This is the only way to end.
One of us needs to die."
"Or" the king coughed again, blood spilling on the floor as Carlos watches.
"The story won't end."
"So, it was for a story…"
"Did the goddess tell you to kill me?" Carlos asked. And the king raised his head up to watch his little brother as he saw his little brother eyes filled with sadness and requesting for an answer. The king can see it clear. And how could the king deny him. He had always had a soft spot for his little brother. And he feels guilty too much for having to send his little brother into a war that he is involved in, for fighting him as soon as he comes back. But Erevan couldn't do anything. He just stared back, locking his eyes with Carlos. He could only reply…
"Mother… She told me to kill you.
And i can't refuse, she use my god to control me"
"And the goddess let it?" Carlos asked, watching his brother suffer as he tried to speak. Even though it hurt to see it, Carlos still wants answers…no he needs answers. He needed to know why his sweet older brother never used his power unless it was to protect him, and now used this instance just to fight him. He would never believe it if he wasn't the one who had fought with the king.
The king smiled and said, "Everything for her own interests. She never really cared about me anyway.
Now the time had come, kill me and take the throne, little Carl"
"Brother, you…really didn't think about winning against me, right?"
"Why should I?" Erevan looked at him with painful eyes including confusion as if he didn't know why Carlos would ask him that question.
"...."
"It doesn't matter anyway, even if I win, I would still die for using too much power." Erevan said, shutting his eyes." Erevan says as his eyes close, it was already hard for him to breathe.
"My heart is already freezing before you even came here"
"....."
"You were planning to die with me." Carlos said, his voice shaking. But Erevan can't hear him anymore. His ears had been freezing to the point of hurting.
"Now kill me, little Carl.
As long as it is you, i will feel free"
"...."
"As my last wish, kill me Carl."the king said with a breathless voice.
".....You really are an idiot, brother."
Carlos looked down at the king, unblinking yet his voice filled with pain, his tears falling down. And Carlos laughs bitterly and sounds broken. And he lifted the blade higher, tip aimed for the heart to finish quickly. For his brother to not feel the pain and be free from those strings that control him immediately.
"....Brother, you never changed"
And Carlos drove the sword downward to meet his brother's heart…
But the throne room shattered. The throne room's doors that have been closed for eternity had blown open and thousands of swords had just been thrown to him in an instant with a terrifying speed. His eyes widened.
Something massive passed between him and his brother, faster than thought and attacking him. He didn't have time to lift his blade. And a shadow came between them and then—
Nothing.
His brother had opened his eyes as Carlos fell to the ground and his last breath was caught in his throat. And he heard something… a scream…as he could no longer open his eyes.
And only darkness was there.