10
Solvane's mind was a storm, thoughts crashing like waves in a tempest. What does he mean—don't die? How can they watch like this? What am I supposed to do? His heart pounded, not with courage but with raw, choking dread. The air thickened, suffocating, pressing against his chest like the palace's stone walls.
The masked man stepped forward, knuckles cracking like bones snapping in a tomb. "Grab your sword," he said, voice cold and steady, stripped of emotion. "And fight like your life depends on it." A pause, heavy as death. "Because it does."
His boots scraped the stone floor, slow and deliberate, a predator savoring the hunt. Solvane's trembling fingers closed around his sword's hilt. It felt heavier than ever, as if the blade knew he wasn't ready. He'd trained for years, pushed his body to prove himself to King Aubrean, to be the son who bore the crest with pride. But now, facing this shadowed figure, all his strength felt like ash. He wanted to run, to flee the palace, the crest, the prophecy—to be free, like the humans he'd envied in Valthorne's streets. But Aubrean's voice echoed: "Show strength, Solvane. Never falter." Freedom was a dream, and dreams died in Avallah.
He barely lifted the sword when the man vanished. No blur, no wind—just absence.
Then—impact.
Solvane's face exploded in pain. His nose shattered, a sickening crunch echoing through the hall. Blood sprayed, hot and coppery, painting the stone in crimson streaks. Teeth scattered like broken pearls, clinking against the floor. His lungs seized, air gone, his chest convulsing in vain. His knees buckled, vision blurring as the world tilted sideways.
Pain surged like wildfire, licking every nerve, devouring his strength. Through the haze, the masked man approached, calm and unhurried, death in human form. Solvane's hand rose, trembling, a silent plea for mercy. He thought of Aubrean—his approval, the throne, the crest. He'd fought to be worthy, to earn the pride his father withheld. But he'd also dreamed of freedom, of a life beyond the palace's shadow. Now, both desires felt futile, crushed under the weight of this moment.
"You're in pain, aren't you?" the man taunted, voice curling with twisted joy. "You feel death's slow grasp, don't you?"
Solvane tried to speak, his tongue heavy as lead. He pushed against the ground, willing his legs to obey, but they betrayed him. He collapsed, a heap of broken flesh and shattered pride. He'd wanted to prove himself, to stand tall before Aubrean, but this was failure laid bare.
Then he saw them. The Aspers, lined along the hall's edge, their faces carved from stone. No sympathy. No concern. Just judgment, cold and unyielding. Among them stood King Aubrean, his eyes burning with contempt. The father who'd once held him, whispered tales of Golden Asper glory, now looked at him as if he were nothing—a flaw in the crest's legacy.
"Why the hell are you looking at me like that?" Solvane growled, voice raw, blood dripping from his lips. Fury surged, drowning his pain. He lunged, sword slicing upward in a desperate arc of vengeance. He'd fought for Aubrean's pride, suppressed his own dreams to be the prince Avallah demanded. This strike was for him, for the boy who wanted to be free.
The masked man deflected it with casual ease, twisting Solvane's wrist until the bones snapped like dry twigs. The sword clattered to the ground, useless. Solvane screamed, pain and humiliation merging into a single, searing wound. He tried to switch hands, to fight back, but the man grabbed both wrists, crushing them together. Solvane thrashed, a hare in a bear trap, his muscles straining, veins bulging, but he didn't budge.
Then came the slap—a hand larger than his face struck with force that rattled the walls. His head snapped sideways, blood spraying from his mouth. Another strike followed, then another, each peeling away skin, revealing raw, bleeding flesh beneath. His face was no longer his own, just a canvas of agony.
The hall remained silent. No one moved. No one spoke. Only the masked man, breathing steadily, towered over the broken prince.