by Shakyra Dunn
“Actually, I don’t need to. You have already told me.”
“I beg your pardon?” Hinju casually held up the slip of paper, and Solus caught sight of the royal family’s sigil on the back when he ran to reclaim it. The decree that Rem wrote for him. Solus checked his pockets to confirm that it was indeed missing. “How did you get that?”
“It was sitting in the courtyard. You may want to start checking your pockets while escaping, Prince Solus,” Hinju stated. “You could end up leaving behind valuable evidence.”
Solus snatched it away, the paper crumpling as he attempted to fold it. His hands were shaking far too much for him to concentrate on the remedial task. There was always something that Hinju seemed to uncover about them. Now he knew that Rem was dead.
“That is none of your concern,” Solus spoke evenly.
“I believe it is. I was to have a discussion with Prince Remiel about the state of his kingdom. We could have even come to terms and avoided war. But this turn of events has opened a door, my son.”
“Do not ever call me that again. I am not, nor ever will be a child of yours,” Solus snarled.
“We are always in denial. That is what allows us to embrace our humanity. Regardless, I’m surprised that Remiel has allowed you to act as his scion. A mere servant boy born in an exiled land as its chosen heir. At least you served your role adequately.” Solus lowered his head, and Hinju rested a hand on his shoulder. “You always were the obedient child.”
“Stop that,” Solus whispered.
“You never abandoned your mission.”
“I’ve come home, father,” Kinaju called from the other side of the room. Solus couldn’t bring himself to face his younger brother now that he knew he was around. In fact, it came down to Kinaju to make the first move. “Hey, Solus, welcome back. Glad you got here safely.”
“Yes, I did,” Solus addressed him, his voice just above a whisper.
Hinju rested a hand under his chin as he stared at his older son, Kinaju’s emergence barely a defining factor. “You will learn in time that solitude brings greater satisfaction when you sit as a ruler of your own world, Prince Solus. Any friends that you make will only shackle you to misfortune. Think no more of them. You have a duty to uphold now.”
Solus felt sick, unable to remain in the same presence as the man he was left to dub ‘father.’ How could he be related to such a simple-minded man? Kinaju reached out a hand as Solus walked past him, sighing to himself. Silently, Solus retreated behind nearby curtains, exiting to a vineyard. The flowers on the gazebo were long dead, lost to ever-changing seasons. After making sure that he was far enough away from the throne room, he emptied his stomach contents into the bushes, where he remained for some time. After he settled himself under the gazebo, wiping his mouth with his sleeve and lying down on the old wooden bench, he wondered why Hinju or Kinaju didn’t come after him. Maybe it was easy to tell that he wanted to be left alone.
So much was changing. Rem was bound to be disappointed in him now that the truth was out, but at least it wasn’t something that was revealed right to his face. Rem gave him a home, a real family in the elite Brenner household. The Vesarus family gave him purpose by allowing him to act as a protector to the young heir, and Remiel gave him a brotherhood that he had never known with Kinaju, who remained isolated from his family due to his inferior bloodline. Even if the beginning was supposed to lead to Rem’s death, the end of the royal family’s cursed bloodline, everything thereafter was more real than the blood on his hands.
Their friendship was never built on a lie. He knew it well.
There had to be some way to turn the tables again…
“You’ve been in here all night.” When Kinaju stepped into the room that Hinju provided for Solus early into the following afternoon, he found his older brother buried under every blanket, sheltering him head to toe with only a tuff of his lengthy sand-colored hair sticking out.
“Hey,” Kinaju continued, reaching out a hand to lay on the man’s head. “You have to come out sometime, Your Highness. You have to eat something, start the day, pep yourself up!”
When he got no response, Kinaju knelt by his bedside and pulled back the sheets until his older brother’s tired face emerged. His hair was in disarray, covering the entire right side. His skin was as white as the near spotless walls surrounding him. Solus rolled to his left to avoid eye contact, a handful of the sheet in his grasp as he hid again. Kinaju wasn’t surprised. This was all probably coming as a shock, having abandoned his morality and his love after turmoil struck. He was worried, and yet, he assumed that he wasn’t going to have the same closeness between his allies again. Remiel’s death allowed his true mission to take shape, and the consequences of his actions set in. Leilana was going to find out the truth sooner than later. With those circumstances in mind, it was easy to tell that he was broken up about the way life was unfolding.
“Come now,” Kinaju continued, climbing over the bed to lay next to him. “Talk to me, Solus.”
Solus rolled to his right this time. “You’re the last person I want to see.” He sounded as though he were fighting back tears, which caused Kinaju to sit upright again, folding his legs.
“I think you did the right thing by coming back,” Kinaju stated. “I remember the way that you acted after I first told you about mother’s death and even the truth about Hinju being our father. You were genuinely shocked. Maybe you came to terms with everything after that and realized that you were deceiving your friends.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” Solus whispered.
“I-I wasn’t trying to make things worse, honest. I just wanted you to understand that everyone makes mistakes.”
“Just go away,” Solus hissed. “I have no desire to talk to you.” Kinaju lowered his head in defeat before getting up from the bed in silence, exiting the room.
Hinju was standing at the end of the wall, looking over at the younger man as he emerged. He didn’t seem too appeased by the lack of results. “No change?”
“He doesn’t want to leave his chambers,” Kinaju settled with. “Father, is there anything else that we can do for him? Solus has had plenty of time to accept his duties, and yet, he won’t take any action. He holds too much regard for his friends.”
“I suppose that when evening rolls around, I will have no choice but to drag him from the room. There is much that we must get underway, and I can’t afford to wait for my forlorn son to get his thoughts in order. The longer that he takes, the harder that it becomes to keep the castle standing firm. A moonless night is upon us, and my powers are waning. I can no longer afford a time with no action.”
Hinju stepped past Kinaju and opened Solus’s door; all the while, Kinaju was eyeing the opposite direction of the room, slowly stepping away from his father’s prying gestures. As much as he wanted to interfere and keep Solus from losing his temper against the man, he could only watch and listen from the shadows.
“My son,” Hinju called. Solus visibly stiffened at the man’s voice but didn’t face him, which would be a far greater mistake than sending Kinaju away. “You need to stop lazing around this room and get on your feet,” he continued, his tone steadily sharpening like a knife.
“Leave me be,” Solus mumbled. Hinju didn’t seem to take kindly to his proclamation, evident by the snarl budding in his throat. A sharp tug on his hair brought Solus to a sit, and Solus elbowed the man in the throat, ultimately breaking free while backing towards the window. Hinju shot out a shard of ice that struck the wall next to Solus, lingering for half a minute before dissipating. Solus didn’t dare to move, his eyes locked on the Warlord.
“You’ve no blade to bear your name,” Hinju warned, hand extended in preparation for another spell. “There is no defending yourself, Solus. Have a seat. Let’s talk like men.”
“I’ll have no more of your lies,” Solus hissed.
“No lies, only statements. I mean you no harm. You are a prince now, and in addition, the
only true heir to Gularin’s legacy. You must act humbly when given an opportunity to advance.”
Solus tied back his hair and took a seat on his bed, folding his legs, bold-faced as he observed the man’s course of action. Hinju lowered his hand, sitting down next to Solus, who promptly moved further left. The more distance between them, the better. Birth father or not, this man was still a criminal in his eyes. Hinju marveled in the mid-morning light.
“There is much that we need to discuss,” Hinju continued. “Many pertaining to what duties are upon you, and others involving bygones.”
“Bygones should stay bygones,” Solus proclaimed, resting his arm against the headboard. “What duties are you referring to?”
“I’ve gathered the masses. Tomorrow night, you’ll announce to all corners of Adrylis that Prince Remiel is dead and a new leader will take his place. Order shall be brought to fruition.”
“T-Tomorrow night,” Solus repeated, his folded hands becoming as unsteady as his nerves. “Isn’t that a bit sudden to spring on me? I mean, I have yet to prepare for-”
“It is already decided,” Hinju said simply. The man leaned in towards him, resting a hand on his shoulder, his tight grip nearly tearing through Solus’s clothes. Solus lowered his head, exhaling sharply. “You will follow through with this, or I’ll kill the princess.”
His totem, untouched. The binding thread that drew him to her from the very beginning. He didn’t know much about the effects of his own towards her fate, but surely it could be undone if she was choosing to become a Sage rather than a Warlord. Still, the ties were undeniable—if she were to perish, her journey would have been for nothing, and there would be no more chances at regaining hope. He couldn’t tackle the deed alone.
He stole a glance at Hinju, trying to read his expression. As far as he knew, Solus and Leilana were merely allied with a common goal. His totem was still safe. If he were to learn the truth about how far their bond would go, Hinju could easily take advantage of their hearts and bend them out of place until they were wrought with repentance.
“I will become a proper king, father.” The title that he presented Hinju with rolled off his tongue, but there was no substance behind it. Solus knew that it wasn’t granted for the right reasons, but there was little reasoning left that Hinju could use to convince him of anything other than wrongdoings. “This country will be ruled by my name, and good shall prevail.”
“I am pleased to hear it,” Hinju stated, rising from his seat. “I will bring you something to eat, and I expect you not to let it go to waste. After that, you are free to do what you’d like until the ceremony, so long as you remain on the castle grounds. This is your home, after all.” Solus didn’t offer up a reply, which left Hinju with discomfort. “I’m doing this for you both. I want you to be happy.”
Solus listened to the door gently close upon Hinju’s departure, folding his hands and lowering his head. Why did it have to be so soon? There was so much time left before the next moonless night. There was no reason for Hinju to rush the ordeal.
He peered out at the morning sun, noticing the crimson hue overtaking the white and yellow blends that normally emanated from the vibrant star. He opened the window, a gust of icy wind brushing along his face. The winter air reeked of salt, ash, and fertilized grime, flowing from the far-off lands that went without guidance. Kinsley was a broken city, and Nilu left abandoned. The Warlords of Old were unappeased with the state of the world and made their own amends.
The last moonless night would be coming much sooner, and Hinju was rushing to meet it.
Adrylis would learn that the Vesarus lineage had been crossed out. That their chosen savior was lost, and that an heir to Necromancy was rising to take his place. He thought of the people in Kinsley, how they shouldered their burdens onto Rem, and even after seeing their malicious, selfish intent, the young prince continued to act with volition and ensure that they would survive. Without him, they fell to ruin on their own.
Without Rem, there was no hope, something that had long carried Adrylis to the prosperity that it needed to flourish. What could he bring in comparison? What kind of world would Adrylis become once they learned the truth about Remiel’s death? The thought alone frightened him. If one country could change so drastically, others were bound to follow.
“You look like you’re gonna puke,” Kinaju piped up when he opened the door. Solus barely processed his younger brother’s arrival.
“I feel as though I will,” Solus mumbled, resting his head against the window.
Kinaju laid a hand on Solus’s back, gently rubbing it. “You should rest if you’re not feeling well. This is a lot for you, isn’t it?” Solus lifted his head, meeting Kinaju’s soft smile. “There’s so much responsibility that’s been placed on you. But you probably knew that since you were Prince Remiel’s servant.”
“You know, he almost never called me that. I was always his ‘right-hand man,’ unless he was infuriated with me. He had the snarkiest attitude sometimes, and his temper was as well-known as his compassion. He was a walking contradiction.”
The younger man suddenly raised an eyebrow, but Solus couldn’t tell if he was just feeling trapped in the conversation and didn’t know how to react or if he was opting out altogether and genuinely confused about something else. “Uh, Solus?”
“What is it?”
“You’re crying,” Kinaju pointed out. Solus snapped out of his stupor, reaching up his hand to wipe his eyes. He tried to smile in satisfaction that his memories of Rem brought him to tears, but the embarrassment of showing them to Kinaju wrought his remaining sensibility. So, he remained silent and continued to try and clear the haze that his teardrops were filling in.
“It’s okay,” Kinaju continued, folding his arms behind his back. “When you keep your emotions in stride for so long, it’s hard to feel human. You’ve held on strong for a while. So, it’s okay to cry every now and again. And, to be honest, it’s kind of relieving that you’re doing it around me. That was probably selfish, but it makes me happy.”
“Happy?” he repeated.
“I know that you don’t trust me as much as Remiel. I can see it in your eyes. He was always your brother; it’s natural that you would cry because you miss him. Losing someone that’s important to you makes you feel incomplete. That’s how I felt when you left.”
“You actually missed me?” Solus nearly laughed. “Here I thought that you were jealous of me.”
Kinaju shook his head. “I’ve always wanted magic, but I’m not jealous of you. Don’t get me wrong, I found it unfair that I ended up as the powerless pawn in this sick game. And I do love our father, even if what he says doesn’t correspond with his actions.”
“He claims that he’s doing this for us,” Solus began. “Is this true?”
“I’m not sure. There’s so much that he leaves me wondering about that it’s hard to figure out what to believe. He tells half-truths about why we were apart. You were his example of how I should be. I was under the impression that you were dead until I came to Linmus and saw you in the market. It was the day that Linmus was assaulted. You didn’t see me there, but I knew who you were. It was amazing to see how happy and mature you’d become over the years, but you were sleeping with the enemy.”
“And clearly, that choice was right,” Solus proclaimed.
“Right, but not any less wrong for him,” Kinaju admitted.
“Look, there’s too much I’m thinking about already without worrying what Hinju thinks of my relationship with Rem. I can’t handle what’s in store for me down this road. He’s dangling Leilana in front of me, and any wrong move I make will cost her life. She’s all that I have left.”
Kinaju sighed, bouncing on his heels. “Tell you what. I’ll poke around the castle while father sleeps, and I’ll find her. I probably won’t be able to free her, but some hope is better than none, right?”
“Why are you helping me?”
“Because I want to,” Kinaju said simply.
“What other reason do I need to help the Prince of Adrylis? You worry about tomorrow. Let me handle today.” Solus watched him scamper off, and admittedly, he was calm about the idea of Kinaju acting in his place.
There was no harm in putting faith in him, was there?
Leilana heard the doors open and listened to footsteps along the winding stairs that would lead to her birdcage, but she couldn’t bring herself to see who came to pay her a visit. A gentle hand against the metal bars rather than a forceful slam issuing that she was having a meal caught her attention instead. At the height of her suffrage came Kinaju’s wistful face, his lips cast in a set frown. He wasn’t even facing her, rather the chains that bound her in place.
“What are you doing here?” she asked him.
“There’s something that I wanted to talk to you about,” Kinaju started. “It’s winded, but I don’t have a lot of time. I’m not supposed to be here as is.” Leilana crawled to the edge, the slight shift in weight on one side slightly tilting the cage closer to Kinaju. She laid her own hands on the metal bars, facing him with mild disdain.
“Where’s Solus?”
“He’s safe,” Kinaju assured, taken by her solitary thoughts. “But he’s being held by Hinju now, and Solus won’t leave his quarters.”
“What do you need to tell me?”
“I don’t know how much Solus has told you about our relationship, but there’s more that you need to know before you’re thrown into the smoke rising above your cage.”
“Give me a shorthand explanation since you need to be on your way soon. I imagine playing both sides can be rather strenuous.” Kinaju was left temporarily immobilized by her icy tone, but in the game of love and war, there was no time for winded explanations, and he supposed that he should have caught on to that base much sooner than now.
“Well, you, um…” He cleared the air by turning away from her to gather his thoughts. “You already know that Solus is my older brother. I think you and I are about the same age, which means that I’m pretty much inclined to call you my sister. But anyway, I don’t think he’s told you the other side of the spectrum of our family-”