"Father is dead!" I heard a young man call. I frowned. What was so wrong, so early in the morning? I saw my young brother rush in, tears covering his pale face. His baby blue eyes were now red.
That was the moment I realized I was next for the crown. I ascended to my throne almost immediately. My father had indeed been killed my mercenaries, coming from the kingdom of Valantia. They had declared war.
I looked down at my feet. The boots, the shiny armor, being called "king" instead of prince, it felt so...wrong. Perhaps I can prove myself against Valantia. I thought. But still, the thought of doing so rather scared me. I would have to be brave, far braver than my safe and comfortable life in my castle, but like my father, who would defeat an enemy with one movement of a blade. I could never live up to him, nor his legacy. I felt so powerless. That was until my coronation happened.
It was three days after Father had been killed. I was paraded down the streets, my heavy garments making me ache everytime I had to put my hand up to wave. It felt so different, without my father. His advice was gone, as well as his wisdom. How could I possibly survive now?
"You'll do great, brother." My younger brother encouraged me. "Thank you, Evin. I just hope we can win the war." Evin frowned. "You're still going to war?"
"Of course, Evin. I-I know what's best for this nation." The chariot stopped. Evin was still frowning at my response. "We can and will win this war. We-"
As I stepped out of my chariot to take my crown, a sudden sound rang through the air. A gunshot. Behind me, I saw a man from afar, running off with a gun in his hand. I felt no pain. I hadn't been shot, but I was furious.
I ran. Every fiber of my body was determined to kill this man. He had threatened my life, and my families honor. He had threatened my people's honor. In the end, he was the weak one, not myself. I grabbed his leg, causing him to fall forward. I kicked him in the stomach several times, making him feel the pain that I would've.
Once he was apprehended, I was allowed several moments to collect myself. What would I do? What could I say? What will the people think?
And then, the time came to put the crown on. It was heavier than I thought, but I still knew I could handle it. For my father's sake, and for my people's. I made a rousing speech about triumph and turbulance, and how through it all I would be like my father: wise and strong. Our country would win the war against Valantia, and we could then mourn our king.
All was wonderful, until I heard my brother call my name. "I challenge you to a duel." I almost fainted. The duel ritual had not been provoked in years. The change in power was meant to be civil. Especially since my brother would never do such a thing. For so long, I was determined that he would always stay by my side, supporting me no matter what happened. How could that change?
I tried to control myself, and my raging heart. "Your rule is marked with peril. I can maintain peace with Valantia. You want war, brother. You want the glory that comes from it. You don't care about the people. You don't care about me. If it is truly meant to be, then you will win this duel."
"I-" My mouth hang in shock. How could I do it? How could I kill my brother? "I must accept." The words finally fell out. I drew my sword, as did he. Then, we ran at each other.
He was an excellent fencer. Our swords clanged as we fought. I would dodge, he would dodge. I would strike, he would strike. We were the perfect match for each other. That was until I kicked him.
I aimed for his leg. He dodged, taking a step forward. My body was forward in one direction, his in another. I quickly tried to slash at him, but he cut my hand and knocked the sword out of it. Now, his cold blade was above my neck.
"I love you, brother." I said, a tear streaming down my eye. "It must be done." It was the last words I heard, before the world turned to dark.
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