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I ignored his comment, instead turning to address the Niothe, picking out faces I recognized. “I claim the crown for myself,” I declared, the weight of my words heavy in the desert air. “Not because of my bloodline or because I led our army. But because I will do what is right. I will be king of Athain, and end this war.” A shout of agreement rose from the encampment, a hope grew in my chest.Yes, it was working.
“You’ve fought for decades,” I continued, my voice filled with conviction. “Given everything you have. It’s time you returned home.”
The soldiers nearest me nodded, their faces etched with fatigue and longing as others passed my words along.
“It’s time for you to hold your grandchildren, to sit by the fire with your families, and to enjoy the fruits of your labor. You’ve earned that right.”
A chorus of shouts rang out, filling the air with hope, with a yearning for something more than blood and sand.
“I ask you,” I turned to face the sea of faces, battle-worn and hardened by years on the march. “Will you follow me once more? Only this time, I will lead you home.”
A cheer erupted--a storm of voices united, promising loyalty and a shared dream. Relief lit up Kael’s eyes, radiating from her like the midday sun, as our gaze met. She grinned at me and my heart skipped a beat, still unused to her turning it on me.
My attention returned to Trevyr, and the sight of him gave me a grim satisfaction. Trevyr’s face was a mask of rage. His jaw clenched as he shouted, “You are all traitors! Theodas will deal with you when I return!”
“Theodas is not our leader!” One soldier yelled, pointing an accusing finger at Trevyr. “He’s a traitor! We should stand with Lord Theron and follow him home!” Other soldiers echoed his words, shouting their agreement as they pressed closer. Trevyr backed away from the crowd, searching for an escape route.
Tykas seized his brother with a swiftness that belied his size, putting him in a loose chokehold. Trevyr twisted and thrashed, fury contorting his face, but Tykas’s hold was iron.
With a voice that reverberated like distant thunder, Tykas turned to me, his eyes hard. “I have served my House faithfully for many years,” he began, “but I have never felt as if I belonged. I—I used to dream of running away and joining the Niothe, to serve alongside you.” He paused for a moment, letting his words sink in. “If you will accept me, then I would be honored to join the ranks of your soldiers.”
Trevyr snarled, his words dripping with venom. “You backstabbing ox!” He writhed in his brother’s grip, his curses hissing from his lips like coals spitting from a fire.
“I am done being the whipping boy of our family,” Tykas’s voice was raw with hurt, his arms tightening around Trevyr’s neck. “You’re a rot, a poison. I’m sick with it.”
I locked eyes with Tykas and saw the crushing weight of his past, the scars of a lifetime of pain. The ache of a family that was supposed to love you but did nothing but harm. I knew that pain. Understood it deep within my bones.
“You’re welcome among us, Tykas,” I murmured. “I know what it’s like to have an older brother who breaks instead of shields.”
A barrage of foul curses spewed from Trevyr’s mouth. He flipped open a ring and struck out with the swiftness of a snake, nicking Tykas’s arm. A bright drop of blood welled up on his skin like a ruby shining in the sunlight. Tykas swore and lost his grip on his brother as he slithered free.
“Useless oaf.” Trevyr glared at him, then whirled around. His eye went cold as it locked on me, his dagger poised to strike. Time seemed to slow down. I saw the hatred in his eyes, felt the malice that dripped from his blade. He wouldn’t land a killing blow, but he didn’t need to, not with the poison coating his blade.
Before his dagger found my arm, Kael flew forward, her sword batting his weapon aside. I slid around her as if we’d practiced this move hundreds of times, my blade finding its mark in his side with grim finality.
“Tykas?” Trevyr whispered as he looked behind him, blood dripping from his mouth. Shock flickered in his eyes as he crumpled to the ground, his blood darkening the sand beneath him to wine-black. He stared up at me, the light in his eyes fading as he choked. I held his gaze, steady and unwavering, until the spark of life vanished.
Time seemed to stretch out and snap back in the next moment. The air practically thrummed, filled with the ragged breaths of the soldiers around us—the only sound in the vast, unending desert. Tykas stood, a stunned expression etched across his face.
“Are you alright?” I asked, my voice gentle. “Do you need a healing plate or antidote?”
Tykas shook his head. “I started building up a resistance to his poisons years ago.” He still looked shocked, his amethyst eyes wide as he watched the sand soak up his brother’s blood.
Zerek moved to his side, whispering words of comfort, his voice barely audible over the winds that blew through the desert encampment. He also knew the pain of a brother who had no love for his sibling. I watched as Tykas’s shoulders slumped; the tension falling away with each reassuring word.
The army stood in silence, their eyes fixed on me, waiting. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, feeling the dry air in my lungs. The smell of sand and blood was heavy on the wind, reminding me of so many years ago when I first came to the desert city and witnessed Rhazien’s cruelty.
“You’ve all served for years,” I began, my voice steady, carried by the desert wind. “Fought countless battles, spilled blood, and lost friends. I thank you for your service, for your dedication.”
A heavy silence settled over the encampment, the soldiers hanging on my every word.
“If you don’t want to be part of the assault on the capital, I won’t hold it against you,” I continued. “I won’t force you to fight in wars you don’t believe in anymore. You deserve peace. Rest. You’re free to return to your families with no ill will from me.”
I met their eyes, each one filled with hope, fear, and exhaustion.
“All I want is to claim our homeland, to protect it,” I stated, my voice resonating across the sands. “To break free from this cycle of war and devastation. Our people have been conquerors for too long, bound by a legacy of bloodshed and conquest.”
A soldier shouted from the crowd, “What about the Remnants?”
