The king of Verda turned around, set on his course, only to be confronted by an obstacle in the form of an old Graycoat. “Hello, Father.”
Nathaniel Galfrey stepped out of the doorway and into the rain, his sword already in hand.
Alijah tilted his head, taking the man in. “Is this the part where you throw down your sword, tell me you won’t fight me, and try to make me see sense?” he asked mockingly.
Nathaniel continued to approach his son. “No,” he stated boldly. “I fear you are beyond all sense now.”
Alijah straightened up. “Then you have come to kill me,” he concluded with an edge of surprise in his voice.
Nathaniel came to a stop just short of his sword’s reach. “I’ve come to make sure you don’t suffer.”
The half-elf raised an eyebrow and glanced at his father’s blade. “And you’re going to do that with your sword?”
The old Graycoat looked down at the weapon in his hand. “This is the best I can offer you, Son. There are those who want to save you, to give you a chance at redemption. I know it’s all your mother thinks about. Hell, even Gideon wants a second chance for you. And there’s a part of me that wants that for you more than anything. But if they save you, if you find some way out of this madness, you will be brought before the realm for your crimes. You will be made to suffer.
“Humans, elves, dwarves. They’re past wanting you dead now. They want you to hurt. They want you to feel some of the pain you’ve unleashed on their lives. And they’d be right to,” he added, tears mixing with the rain on his face. “But I love you too much to let that happen.”
“A lovely, lovely speech, Father,” Alijah responded patronisingly. “But I am the realm,” he continued darkly. “The crimes committed against it are judged by me. And, right now, one of its greatest criminals stands before me with no more than the training of a simple Graycoat. There’s a reason you’re the last,” he added with a look of wickedness.
“This isn’t you,” Nathaniel stated with a shaking head. “Those aren’t my boy’s words. Whatever you are, you killed my son.”
“You tell yourself whatever you have to,” Alijah goaded. “You won’t have to live with your actions for much longer.”
Nathaniel held up his sword in both hands. “If there’s anything of you left in there, Son, know that I will always love you…”
Again, it was the clash of steel that drew Inara’s attention in another direction. More distressing this time were the pained cries that came between blows. She hastened after them, searching desperately for the source of the fray. A voice in the Guardian’s mind told her she knew who those pained cries belonged to.
Higher and higher she had risen through The Bastion’s cold embrace. The sound of the storm increased with every new level as she ascended into an area of disrepair. Lightning frequently struck the fortress, knocking loose stones free while the relentless rain found its way into every nook and cranny.
“Liar!”
The stark cry stopped Inara in her tracks and turned her to the spiral staircase on her right. She raced up the steps, her hand running over the wet stone as she climbed ever higher.
“You never loved me!” Alijah’s voice bellowed, before steel collided with steel.
Inara left the staircase behind and entered a shadowed tunnel. There were no other passages and no doors to choose from, just an archway that led outside. It was there that she saw her father’s sword knocked from his grasp and a flash of green steel before his leg gave out, dropping him to one knee. Defenceless, his leg bleeding into the rain, Nathaniel looked up at his opponent, his son.
“It should never have been a choice for you!” Alijah screamed at him. “It should always have been me!”
Inara didn’t even think. She saw Alijah’s cursed Vi’tari blade come up, ready to thrust into her father’s heart, and she reacted instinctively. Her hand retrieved the Moonblade from the back of her belt and let it fly with all her hope behind it. Be it the sound or the glow of the blade, Alijah became aware of the incoming dagger and adjusted his stance at the last second. Instead of catching him in the chest, it collided with his swinging sword and ricocheted off at an awkward angle.
His life extended, Nathaniel launched himself at Alijah and grappled him around the waist. The added weight put Alijah off balance and sent the pair to the floor in a tangled heap. While they rolled about, swapping sharp elbows and hammering fists, Inara sprinted through the tunnel and out into the rain.
Alijah, however, emerged the victor and jumped to his feet. An underarm sweep of his hand cast a blast of telekinetic energy across Nathaniel and sent him flying into Inara. She couldn’t decide what hurt more: the impact of her father or the impact against the floor with his weight on top. Between them, they groaned and grunted onto their hands and knees, though Nathaniel was unable to rise beyond that feat. Inara gave him a quick look over, dismayed to see so many bleeding wounds and dark bruises.
It enraged her.
Inara spun around to face her brother. She was ready, there and then, to run him through and bring a bloody end to it all. Seeing him properly, however, only feet away, the fire in her veins cooled just enough to make her falter. He looked almost as ravaged as the knights he had
