Day 16 of Midwinter, Nightfall

The Watchful Crown, Falias

Annwn

Father was not a trusting man. I could think of only two circumstances when he was separated from the Sword of Light: when he was bathing and when he was sleeping.

We had carefully made our way to the Watchful Crown under the cover of night, long after most of the citizenry had left the central city and fled to their homes in the residential districts or outside in the hills.

As we approached the central spire, we benefited from the protection of darkness but lost the ability to quickly move away from trouble on a sunbeam. There were also fewer people out and about that we could blend in with, meaning that if we tried to enter the main entrance, we would be spotted in less than a heartbeat. I stood partially hidden in an alleyway near the spire, stumped.

YOU COULD CLIMB THE CENTRAL TOWER.

“Are you insane?” I said back to the obnoxious voice in my head. The sheer walls of the tower reached high into the sky, far too high for me to climb. I felt a mild sense of amusement from Belenus.

YOU HAVE NOT FULLY TESTED THE LIMITS OF YOUR NEW PHYSICAL PROGRESSION STATUS.

I looked at the tower again, reconsidering. As much as I wanted to object, Belenus had a point. So far, since my possession by the Old Power, I hadn’t done anything to truly stretch the boundaries of my previous physical limitations.

The base of the three spires was a sprawling central structure that turned into each of the different spires after the third story of large stonework. Handholds would be very difficult…

BUT NOT IMPOSSIBLE.

Before I could counter, I felt my legs rocketing me in the direction of the building as Belenus seized a moment of distraction by the guards. I felt my body leap, preternaturally fast, to land on a windowsill on the second story. Belenus was immediately off again, jumping from column to column, whether or not there were handholds. It felt as though he were simply commanding our body to hold its weight, suspended high in the air, by squeezing our arms and legs together. Friction combined with an unnatural strength made the feat more akin to something an insect would do on a smaller scale.

By the time I had wrapped my head around the things my body was apparently capable of, we had already begun our ascent of the central spire. There, the brickwork of the towers changed, the intricate decorations allowing for easy climbing, given my new abilities. We climbed and climbed, without tiring, until we reached the level below my father’s quarters at the Crown, where I knew that he typically rested after a long day and night of battle planning.

Hanging from the wall on what must have been eight stories above the ground, Belenus made quick work of the window, cracking the masonry frame as easily as if opening an unlocked door. We stepped inside quietly, sliding the broken stones back in place as best we could so as not to arouse suspicions. I peered around the room, trying madly to get my bearings.

SOMEONE IS COMING.

We ducked into a shadowy corner as a half dozen guards walked by on patrol. None of them saw us or appeared to notice the signs of our recent entry into the most secure building in all of Annwn.

As the sound of their steps and quiet conversation faded, we quietly moved toward the suite our family used during long sessions at court. My plan was deceptively simple…make our way to the suite and hide within the rooms until Father entered and fell asleep, hopefully leaving the sword easily accessible. Once we had the sword, we’d sneak from the room and rescue Brigid…hopefully before anyone was the wiser.

Belenus was quiet in my mind. He seemed to understand and was going along with the plan, at least for the moment. For the first time all day, I felt as though I had complete control over my thoughts and body. I felt the speed and strength of my new domains, but I also could feel that one of the things I had lost in gaining my immortality was the ability to shape-change. I was surprised to realize that no part of me mourned that loss. My body felt alive and, dare I say, invincible. Follow current novels on novelFɪre.net

As we drew closer to the long hallway that led to Father’s quarters, I reviewed my next steps. Outside the entrance would be two guards that I knew very, very well. Given that one of those guards was currently missing a sword called Vowkeeper that was now in my possession, I suspected they would not be pleased to see me.

I had decided to act normally, and when I rounded the corner, I carried no weapon nor exuded any sort of hostile intent. I kept my expression calm and passive, and walked with my hands held out, showing that I was totally unarmed.

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“I wondered when you would show yourself around the spires again,” said the smaller of the two men. His name was Marc, and I knew him to be a loyal, though somewhat contrary man.

“You have something that belongs to me,” said the other, larger man. Jolsten was father’s favorite King’s Guard, and the first changeling selected to be in the guard after father opted to transfer the responsibility in Falias from Ellyllon to changelings.

“An item that I came to return,” I responded, giving a slight bow. “I apologize for having borrowed it, but it couldn’t be helped.”

“You look even worse than I was expecting," Jolsten said, taking a step forward and extending his hand for his blade.

I tried to retrieve Vowkeeper, only to find that my hand refused to move. Belenus obviously disagreed with my decision to return the man’s blade. The three of us stood silently, the tension growing. Jolsten’s eyes narrowed, and he dropped his hand, backing up a step. Marc placed his hands on the pommel of his own sword.

“Maybe you didn’t understand him,” Marc said, his voice tinged with annoyance. “You have something that belongs to him.”

I strained again to move my hands to retrieve the blade. They remained in an extended position, open and remaining empty of weapons. My heart sank when I realized what was about to happen.

NOW YOU WILL SEE THE POWER THAT YOU POSSESS.

“No, please don’t,” I murmured aloud, my voice shaking. Marc’s eyes lit up at the fear in my voice, and he set his hand more firmly on his sword. Jolsten, whom I had known all my life, took another cautious step away from me, clearly recognizing that something else was going on. He began to turn, taking a half step as if to run.

Before he could move out of my range, a massive horizontal column of searing light shot forth from my hands as Belenus activated Burning Pulse. Both men staggered as the flesh hit by the light turned a bright red. I watched in horror as blisters formed on their faces and hands. The men began screaming, wrenching with burning fingers at the suddenly red-hot armor they found themselves burning alive in.

“Stop!” I screamed helplessly into the vacuum of my mind. “Please stop!” But it was too late. The screams were already fading into low whimpers. With a few final moans of agony, Jolsten and Marc collapsed into smoking piles of ash..

WE MUST MOVE QUICKLY. SOMEONE INSIDE THE DOOR IS MOVING THIS WAY.

I was in shock. No amount of military training could have prepared me for what I had just witnessed… no, what I had just done. Belenus didn’t wait for me to recover, but simply moved my limbs forward to the door and kicked it down. No sense being quiet any longer, I thought. No one nearby could have missed the screaming of the burning guards.

Inside the suite, we rushed past the foyer and headed straight toward the back of the floor. Before we could reach the bedrooms, I found myself face-to-face with Caicher.

“What have you done?” my eldest brother asked, his eyes wide. He held a short sword, but wore no armor or shirt, leaving numerous partially healed spear wounds visible on his chest. For whatever reason, Uncle Dian Cecht must not have been able to heal the wounds completely…which could only mean they had been made by Cai’s Spear of Victory.

“Brother,” I was able to manage, having wrestled the control of my voice from Belenus. “I am not the enemy that Father thinks of me. Please.”

His eyes flicked behind me to the open door leading to the hallway. The guards had burned into nothing, but the smell of cooked flesh and ash had drifted into the room. Caicher looked at me with fear for the first time in his life. Gone was the cocky older brother who had teased and tormented me.

“It was you at the southern gate, wasn't it? What have you done?” He repeated his words, trying to wrap his mind around what had become of the little brother he thought he knew.

“Something happened to me…” My words suddenly stuck in my throat, as I found that I couldn’t finish my thought.

“Father would have eventually forgiven you…after the war. Things could have gone back to the way they were. But now…” Caicher’s face was grim, but I watched as he mustered his courage again, his long habit of being the stronger of the two of us restored like an innate reaction. He assumed the poise of heir apparent and leveled his sword at me. “You will come with me.”

I caught my breath at his words, fearing what they might lead to. At any moment, I knew Belenus could activate a boon and destroy any chance I might have of fixing things with my family. I held myself still, filled with fear. Seconds passed, and…nothing happened. No boons triggered. My hands didn’t reach for my sword against my will. I found that I had complete control of my limbs.

“Please, Caicher,” I begged. “Put that down and let me explain. I don’t want to hurt you.” I wasn’t asking for his permission, and I saw the moment my brother realized it. I was giving him a chance to avoid conflict, and I saw the struggle on his face as he tried to reconcile this new tone with what he remembered of me.

“I won’t ask again, little brother,” he responded. “You have no weapon drawn, and I am the better dueler.”

“Caicher, I don’t want to hurt you, but…” I should have known better. I had triggered some sort of alpha response by insinuating that I could hurt him. He didn’t wait for me to finish my thought, lunging at me. I stepped aside with ease, my newly enhanced speed and strength guiding my movements.

Years of training with my father and brothers had hammered in the quickest way to end a fight–strike first, strike hard, and leave your opponent unable to retaliate. So that’s what I did.

My fist came down hard on Caicher’s sword arm, a move I’d done a hundred times in training. I felt bones snap beneath the blow, startling me. My follow-up punch was already arcing toward his temple, and feeling the surprising strength behind my first blow, I tried to pull back, but it was too late. The side of my brother’s head collapsed under my fist, his body flying back to slam into the wall.

Caicher lay in a heap against the wall, his skull shattered. His eyes bulged grotesquely from their sockets as he convulsed. His limbs jerked once, twice, and then fell still. My brother—the heir to Falias and all of Annwn—was dead. I stared down at my still clenched fists. He hadn’t fallen to Belenus, but to me. I had murdered my brother.