The bleeding didn't stop.
By the time I stumbled into the old ravine hollow, the moon had risen high—cold and pitiless as it stared down at the mess I'd become. Blood soaked my side where one of the assassins had caught me with a curved blade. My arm throbbed. My vision pulsed in and out like someone had pulled a veil over the world.
But I didn't fall.
Not yet.
I collapsed against the moss-covered stone where the trees grew thickest, their shadows swallowing me whole. My breaths came shallow and fast. Each inhale scraped my ribs like broken glass, and I swore I tasted iron with every exhale.
Was this how it ends?
I let my head rest against the bark behind me. Even the tree seemed to recoil, as if my blood offended it.
I tried to still my thoughts. The night was quiet now—too quiet. No sound of hooves behind me. No whispers from the trees. Just the chirping of distant insects and the unbearable silence of being alone.
I'd killed them. All five.
I should have felt triumphant.
But there was no glory in that fight—only survival.
And survival was never enough for people like me.
---
The moment they'd come for me, I'd known it. The way the air shifted, like the gods themselves had turned their gaze. It wasn't just five men. It was five phantoms—each a master of their craft. They'd moved like shadows given steel.
Their eyes were void of mercy.
And for a flicker of a second, I'd thought, maybe this is the end.
But I was the cursed child of Delyra. And death wasn't so kind.
---
Now I was bleeding through the bindings I'd wrapped around my torso, the fabric warm and wet and useless. I should've waited for the medics. I should've returned to the outpost I passed four hours ago.
But his letter burned hotter than the pain.
My father.
His words had carved themselves into my chest deeper than any blade.
It wasn't mercy that moved him. It was hunger. Power. Strategy.
He wanted to use me.
To put a leash on the monster he created.
I laughed bitterly, the sound cracked and hollow.
He didn't understand. He never had.
I didn't fear dying.
I feared him winning.
---
When I finally pushed myself to my feet, the world spun like a tilted painting. I leaned on my sword—my lifeline. My knees threatened to betray me. My shoulder screamed from where the assassin's dagger had pierced deep and lodged into the bone.
I grit my teeth.
One step. Another.
I couldn't stop now. Not when Delyra's gates were only a day away. Not when the man who ruined everything was waiting for me with a throne made of lies.
I passed the old border stone just before dawn. The light was soft and cold, turning the trees to silver and shadows. A fox darted through the underbrush, then stopped and watched me.
Even it looked like it pitied me.
---
By the time I crested the final hill and saw the dark spires of the palace in the distance, something in me fractured.
It wasn't just exhaustion.
It was the weight of going back.
Back to the place that taught me to hate my own reflection.
Back to the man who looked at me and saw nothing but a failed weapon.
---
I fell to my knees.
From the reminder of what brought me here.
My beautiful mother,
Who lay in a slumber no magic could break. A prison of stillness. Her life slipping away like the last light at dusk.
And I was supposed to trade myself to save her?
To chain my soul so that his throne could shine brighter?
Yes
I would.
Not because I was obedient.
But because I still believed in a world where mothers should not suffer for the sins of kings.
---
"Delbeyrah?" a guard whispered as I approached the first checkpoint, my hood drawn low.
He didn't recognize me at first.
But he did when he saw my eyes.
Those cursed, silver-flamed eyes that had haunted their stories.
He reached for his blade out of instinct.
I didn't flinch.
"Let me in," I rasped, barely above a whisper. "I am here by order of the King."
He hesitated—then nodded, wide-eyed.
The gates opened like a beast's mouth.
And I walked into the belly of it, knowing full well what waited for me inside.
Not salvation.
Not home.
But the end.