Defying Gods - 1. Story

Defying Gods

By Ieshwar

 

Hundreds of lanterns hovered over the glass ceiling, illuminating the whole ballroom. Servants, dressed as lavishly as the guests present, threaded their way through the crowd with pitchers of wine and platters of delicacies. The massive golden pillars glistened over the silver floor. As if it wasn’t enough, white peacocks strutted among the crowd.

“Seriously, Lord Lance’s pretentiousness has no limits. He brought peacocks, I mean, peacocks! This ball is obviously an excuse to show his superiority over the other kingdoms,” Killian said disgruntled.

“Shh, be careful, Prince,” Omerion, the royal advisor, whispered as he looked around him, “if someone hears us, it could cause a real havoc.”

“It doesn’t make him any less ostentatious,” Killian muttered under his breath.

“Representatives and ambassadors from all kingdoms have been invited here. Now that you have come of age, it’s the right time to increase your contacts.” The prince groaned as Omerion continued, “Look, there’s the representative of the Hanarian Kingdom. They have always been allies to Almer, standing by our side. And they have been key for our trades too. We should meet him.”

Killian was tired of all the small talk. All he did was stand and smile while Omerion did all the diplomatic discussion. Not that he wanted to talk anyway. He looked at the Hanarian representative who stood with his protruding belly and walrus-like mustache. He could already see himself bored to the end of his mind while the man went on and on about the great relationship between the two kingdoms.

“You go on, Omerion. I’ll have a look around,” Killian said, and before his advisor could stop him, he turned on his heel and went in the opposite direction. Several times, he nodded and smiled to the faces he had previously met,but before they could stop him for a chat, he slipped away.

Killian came to a halt as a musical horn reverberated through the room, announcing the start of the ball. A soft, ethereal melody filled the air. Several people moved to the middle of the room. The dancers fell into two concentric circles, each rotating in the opposite direction along with the beat of the drums. They spun, clapped and jumped whilst following the rhythm of the music. Killian groaned as he saw several more people joined the dance, dragging their friends along. The last thing he wanted was to be unable to turn down a dance offer by some simpering spinster and to be dragged into the middle of the ball floor.

He was about to turn away when he heard a laugh behind him. A figure in black dashed past him. He watched as a boy, no younger than him, joined the dancers. His golden-hued skin shone in the middle of the crowd like a beacon of light. He moved gracefully yet with a hint of pride, reminding Killian of an agile feline strutting in the plains. He spun around, laughing and the prince found himself grinning despite his previous sour mood.

Before he knew what he was doing, Killian found himself amongst the dancers. His blue eyes refused to let go the dancing boy. His own body mirrored the movements of the young stranger. His hands clapped at the same rhythm as the slender tanned hands. He spun when the young boy did. It was as if his body sought a weird common link- living, pulsing at the same rhythm. The music’s tempo rose in pace, reflecting the budding feeling in his chest. Each beat of drum brought him closer to the boy, feeding this unknown feeling.

Then as if beckoned by his blue eyes, the stranger looked at him. A small smile appeared on the pink lips. Killian didn’t know whether it was really the smile or the toll of the dancing but his heart started racing. The fire inside him roared, soaring with joy. The black orbs never left his blue ones. Both boys grinned at each other, as if reveling in some kind of inside joke. The smile only grew as they kept coming closer.

Killian spun around and the next second, he found himself in front of the grinning boy. They stood close; he could feel the heat emanating from him. It ignited a fire he didn’t know resided inside him. He smiled back. The music beats,escalated to a crescendo, pounded in his ears, matching his fast heartbeat. They danced as one, the rest of the room reduced to a mere blur. Their feet struck the ground simultaneously. They spun in the air, following a rhythm of their own. Their skin brushed against each other, teasing and rousing. Their laughs could be heard above the music.

“What’s your name?” Killian asked as they circled each other

“Surya.”

“Surya…” The words felt like a prayer on his lips, a wish to Gods for something special.

“And yours?”

“Killian.”

“It’s beautiful.”

“Do you…”

Before he could complete his question, the boy spun around. Black mane whipped across his face, leaving traces of the scent of sandalwood. The music faded into nothing as the dancers came to a halt. The guests dispersed, joining their friends and during the bustle and movement, Surya disappeared into the crowd. The young prince stood still, a strange emptiness inside him.

Then, amidst the faces of strangers, a pair of black eyes looked at him, beckoning him. Killian found himself pulled toward theblack-haired boy. People pressed against him, a few guests bumped into him. The black locks disappeared from his sight, from time to time, lost in the crowd. Yet, the pull in him never wavered. His thirst grew with each step, but he didn’t know for what.

Killian stepped outside. He rubbed his hands as a cool breeze passed him. Looking around, he saw only Lord Lance’s herculean garden. He went through the maze of trees, searching for Surya.

“You should be more subtle.”

Killian spun around. He was there, leaning against a tree, his face hidden in the shadows.

“You stepped on people’s toes. You bumped against others but you never stopped looking at me,” he continued while Killian walked toward him.

“You danced really well,” the young prince said with a wry smile as he stood in front of him.

Surya laughed but he didn’t move away or back when Killian kept coming closer. His black eyes shone with mischief under the moonlight. “Don’t beat around the bush, do you?”

“Why? Is that a bad thing?”

“Strangely, no,” Surya whispered. He raised a hand, caressing Killian’s cheek. Then he leaned in, kissing him. At first, it remained tentative; gauging the young prince’s reaction but then, it grew in intensity. It was like a game, each one teasing the other. Their hands roamed around, eager yet nervous.

Surya broke away. Their chests were still pressed together, synchronized in their rises and falls. Their hands were still around each other.

“You don’t even know who I am,” Surya whispered.

“I can say the same for you. Yet…” Yet there was something between them, something which pulled him toward this stranger. He didn’t know if it was attraction, lust or something more, and to be frank, he didn’t even want to know. He just couldn’t ignore this feeling inside him.

“Yet what?”

“You intrigue me.”

“And is that a bad thing?”

“No,” Killian laughed as he brought him closer to himself. He kissed him on the neck. The fire inside him rekindled at the sound of moans. Their hands were bolder now, unabashed in their exploration.

“Prince Killian? Prince Killian?” a voice boomed over the gardens. Killian groaned as he broke the kiss. He rested his head against Surya’s forehead.

“So you’re a prince, huh?” Surya asked with a small grin on his lips.

“Yes, that’s me, Prince Killian of Almer. And that’s my advisor looking for me. Maybe if we keep quiet, he’ll go away.”

“Almer…”

At that moment, the clearing flooded in light as Omerion stepped through the trees with a lantern in hand. Killian sighed. He broke away from Surya. He tamed his disheveled hair and clothes, glaring at his advisor.

“Sorry, Prince, I didn’t know you were in someone’s company. I…” Omerion stopped the moment he saw Surya. “My Prince, we should leave now.”

“Omerion, try to understand,” Killian said through gritted teeth. He couldn’t understand why the man wouldn’t leave him alone.

“I insist, My Prince. Consider it as an emergency.”

“Fine,” Killian said. He turned and hugged Surya, who hugged back after some hesitation. “Prince or not, I meant every word I said. I will meet you again, Surya, it’s a promise.” He stepped back, his arms still around Surya. The black-haired boy looked at him, as if gauging the sincerity behind his words. Giving him a final smile, Killian turned and walked away.

“Why do you always have to come at the wrong moment?” he hissed, while walking beside his advisor.

“Do you know who that was?”

“Surya?”

“He’s Prince Surya of Drona,” Omerion stopped and looked him in the eyes, “the Drona which had been in conflict with Almer for centuries, and if I dare say, still is.”

“Prince Surya of Drona?” Killian whispered, his insides squirming at the name. He turned and looked at the dark trees behind him. Behind hid the son of the men who had killed many of his ancestors. And yet he couldn’t shake off this pull which he had felt during the whole night. It was still here, gnawing inside him, pushing him toward disaster.

 

*****

 

Killian stood still as the metal smith placed the iron armor over his shoulders. His body groaned under the heavy weight. His chest pained while the clasp on the side was tightened. Yet his body didn’t sag. His steely gaze remained fixed on the horizon.

‘Be strong.’ He repeated the mantra in his mind, hoping that it would be enough to ward off all the painful memories.

The soldiers, dressed in white armor with a blue crest, surrounded him. The creases of worry betrayed their guarded stance. The despair on their faces reflected what he had seen within the walls of the city. Half of Almer were mourning the loss of their sons, fathers or husbands on the battlefield. The other half was worried about those who were still there.

“Prince Killian,” Omerion whispered as he came closer, “we have just received another report from the scouts. It has confirmed our fear. The Dronians have adopted an offensive strategy. Their city defenses have joined the army. Hence, the Almerian soldiers are highly outnumbered by their enemies. Half of our soldiers have already fallen and more probably as we speak right now.”

“How long will we be able to hold?” His voice came out cold, almost detached from himself.

“At this rate, by tomorrow’s dawn. Maybe sooner…”

“Get the troops ready. If we leave now, we’ll reach there by dusk.”

“But My Prince, the defenses of the city…”

“If they have indeed adopted the offensive, then our defenses won’t hold even at the city. We need to be offensive too.”

“As you say, My Prince.”

Feeling Omerion’s gaze on him, Killian turned and looked at him. Beneath the premature wrinkles, the grey eyes peered at him, trying to find what was buried beneath the cold attitude. Killian wondered what he would find out.

“Killian…”

“We don’t have much time left. We need to get moving as soon as possible.”

“My Prince,” one of the wall guards ran toward them. “Someone is coming.”

Killian turned and looked at the horizon. Through the rising whirls of dry sand, a rider came toward them. Even from distance, he recognized the white and blue armor.

“It’s one of the scouts.”

Killian and Omerion stood at the entrance of the city. The soldiers drew closer to the two, standing behind them. The cacophony of moving metal gave in to the rise of hushed whispers. The next report wasn’t expected for a few more hours.

Killian watched as the scout stopped in front of him. He felt a stab in his heart, recognizing the familiar crown in his hand.

“My Prince,” the scout knelt down in front of him, “the King has fallen.”

The hushed whispers died at the utterance of the words. Even the howling wind froze. In the sheer silence, the mantra in his head screamed louder than ever.

“Killian…”

Killian could feel everyone’s gaze on him. The weight of the men behind him, the weight of the city behind him, the weight of the entire kingdom behind him rested on his back. Yet his eyes remained locked on the golden crown. His fists tightened by his side.

“By whom?”

The scout wetted his lips, hesitating, before answering. “The new King of Drona. King Surya. After the fall of his father and his brother, he rose to the throne.”

For the first time, the mantra drowned under the recollections of stolen kisses, soft touches and spoken promises. Killian wrestled through the images trying to break to the surface of control. His nails dug into his skin, drawing blood as he fought for strength.

“The Almerians have always fought till the end,” his cold voice boomed over the barren land. “Our heads may get cut but they will never bow. We will avenge those we have lost.”

Killian nodded as the scout handed Omerion the crown. Traces of dark red covered the golden surface- blood of the war, blood of the slain, blood of his father.

“Get me some water,” the royal advisor said, looking at the crown.

“No,” Killian said, before anyone could move, “I will wear it as it is.”

He looked at his friend and he finally recognized what shone in those grey eyes- pity. Had his friend found what he had been trying to hide and ignore? Was it pity for the bereaved son who lost his father, the unfortunate king who had to lead to war or was it for the cursed lover who had to face the one he loved? He turned his gaze, unable to face the answer to his question.

Killian knelt down. He closed his eyes as the crown was placed on his head. His body shook as all the weight he had on his back rested on his head. And atop now laid the corpse, the blood of his father slain by Surya. Hidden from the gaze of others, a tear finally escaped from his tight self-restrain and fell to the ground.

“Rise, King of Almer, King Killian,” Omerion said. “May your fame go beyond lands and time. May your ruling always be just. May your sword never falter.”

Cheers rang though the soldiers behind him as Killian rose to his feet. He looked at the horizon, beyond which waged the war. A plea spoke in his mind.

‘May my sword never falter.’

 

*****

 

Killian hid behind a pillar as he heard voices approaching. He craned his neck and saw two servants walking away with pitchers and platters. After making sure the coast was clear, he slipped back into the shadows of the night. He had been roaming around for almost an hour and the corridors were never ending. Moreover, they all looked the same. His heart sank as he realized that he was lost.

He hid when another figure entered the corridor. His heart soared as he instantly recognized the tall stature and the proud gait. After making sure that they were alone, he pulled the boy behind the pillar and kissed him. The latter struggled the first few seconds but then he relaxed in his arms and kissed back.

“You scared me!” Surya whispered, throwing furtive glances around them. “And what are you doing here?”

“The same thing that you did last week by coming to my room,” Killian grinned.

“But I didn’t come when there was a full banquet at the Almerian palace. All the Dronian representatives and ambassadors are downstairs. They’ll kill you faster than you can say ‘Almer’!”

“But I missed you.”

Surya tried to look annoyed but the smile crept back. “You’re crazy. But we can’t stay here. It’s not safe. Follow me.”

With Surya walking ahead to make sure that no one was around, both of them made their way to the prince’s room.

“Get in!”

Killian walked in the gigantic room. Immediately, the waft of sandalwood hit him, reminding him of the close moments with the prince. Oil lamps were scattered around, filling the room in an ethereal yellow glow. It felt intimate to be inside Surya’s room. This was where he lived. This was the air he breathed, the floor he walked on, the bed he slept on. Killian brushed his hand across the soft silk sheets. Something tingled deep inside him. It felt like knowing a part of him that he didn’t know before. Turning, he saw several oil paintings hanging on the walls.

“You have a lot of oil paintings here. You collect them?”

“No, I paint them.”

“Wow, they are beautiful.”

Killian walked along the wall, gazing at the paintings. Most of them depicted scenes from the City of Drona and the others showed people, which he assumed was his family. The last one was still on the stand, with a white cloth draped other.

“Don’t look at it. It’s not complete yet,” Surya said from across the room, as he rushed to him.

But Killian had already raised the cover. He came face-to-face with a painting of himself. It had the same blue eyes, the pale blond hair, the pale face yet a quality about it seemed different.

“This… I… It’s…” Killian tried to find the words. “I’m not so beautiful, Surya.”

“Yes, you are,” he replied. He slipped his hand around his waist from behind and rested his head on his shoulder. “This is how I see you.”

“You really painted me…” He couldn’t believe it even when he said it.

“You can miss me but I can’t miss you?” Killian smiled as Surya kissed him on the cheek.

“But what about these splatters of red surrounding me?”

Surya broke away. “It’s the colour of Drona. It’s you in my world. It’s a dream, something silly I have been thinking about lately. It’s not like it’s going to become true…”

“Hey. There’s no Dronian in this world which can stop this Almerian Prince from coming to you. This single Almerian is enough to face the whole Drona standing between us.”

“So you think you can take on the whole Drona by yourself?” Surya moved closer to him. His eyes flashed with defiance yet a small smile crept on his lips.

“Of course. I don’t see why you would think otherwise,” Killian smirked.

“Forget the whole Drona. I’m enough for you,” They were close now. He could feel Surya’s breath on his cheek.

“You should be careful what you say, darling. You might regret it.”

“We’ll see who’ll regret his words later.”

Surya pinned Killian against the wall. Before the latter could get the upper hand, he kissed him. It was no longer the gentle, sweet kiss as before. It was ravenous, fervent. Killian moaned as the hold on his wrists tightened. Part of him wished to surrender to the sweet oblivion; another part of him wanted to fight for the control of power. And in between them, raged this fire, fueled by thesestarving touches and the intoxicating scent of sandalwood.

Killian broke the hold on his wrists. He lifted the prince in his arms. Both stumbled through the room. Surya groaned as the blue-eyed prince fell on top of him on the bed. The flames of the candles scattered through the room blew into smoke, leaving the two basking in the moonlight.

Killian’s breath stuck in his throat as he looked at the rays of the moon held in those black eyes. Gone was all the young playfulness of before; all that was left was this burning passion inside him. He gently brushed away a strand of those black locks. He kissed the slender neck, marveling at its silkiness and perfection. A soft moan filled the room, only to be lost in the whispers of the intruding breeze. His hand explored the rises and the falls of the beauty, unraveling the silks separating them from him. The hardness between them urged for immediate ecstasy but Killian wished to revel in the beauty of the night. And the night was still young. Both princes forewent all notions of time and duration. During that eon-like night, they came closer than ever.

With little left for the night, Killian rose from the bed. He grabbed his shirt from the floor and slipped it on. He turned and looked at Surya sitting on the bed. His eyes were on Killian but they seemed to be looking far away.

“What happened?” He sat next to him. He slipped his hand in his. “What are you thinking about?”

“It’s not going to happen, is it?”

“What?”

“The painting.You being part of my world? It’s just a stupid dream which will never become true.” For the first time, Killian saw fear and despair in those black eyes. Surya was always so sure of himself. He was the one who laughingly jumped in a dance, the one who kissed a stranger on the first meeting or the one who first crossed miles of distance to be with him.

“Surya…”

“Tell me the truth.”

Killian averted his eyes. He didn’t dare tell lies to those eyes and lead them on a path of false hope. But then, he didn’t dare speak of the truth either for he knew that hearing them could break what was between them. He rested his head on Surya’s shoulder. He stroked his thumb against Surya’s palm, hoping that it would be enough to chase away the real horrors waiting for them.

“Why?” The breaking in his voice told him that he was holding back tears.

Why?

The ‘why’ behind the war between Almer and Drona was from centuries ago. No one knew why or how it started. Some said that their enmity was forged with the start of time itself by the Gods. Their hatred for each other ran in their blood.

But Killian knew that another ‘why’ hid behind Surya’s question. Why them? Why did they have to find each other if they couldn’t be together?

He knelt down in front of the Dronian Prince. His heart broke as he saw the tears on his face. That moment he knew, the feeling he hated the most was seeing those eyes wet. He wiped the tears off. Cupping the prince’s face in his hand, he kissed him.

“Maybe it’s going to be okay?” Killian tried to smile, “I mean, our kingdoms have been living a truce for mostly two decades now. It’s been fine and some say it’s getting better by the day. Who knows, we might be ones who bring them together?”

“And what it we are the ones who wrench them further away than ever?” The smile faded from Killian’s face as his heart froze. “I think we should stop now.”

Killian rose to his feet. He backed away, staring at the Surya’s downcast face. “Will you be able to stop?”

Tear filled eyes looked at him. Surya came closer to him. “I can’t,” his voice broke as he spoke.

“I don’t know what waits for us ahead,” Killian took him in his arms, “but I can’t go back, forgetting what we have. I know it’s dangerous but if there’s even a glimmer of hope to be with you in some way, I’ll take the risk.”

“You’re right,” Surya wiped his tears, smiling. “Now, hurry. The sun’s about to rise.”

After kissing him for a final time, Killian jumped through the window. He landed on his hands and feet. Standing up, he brushed away the dust. He turned and looked at the boy at the window. He smiled as he waved at him. Seconds gave in to minutes as he stood there watching him. When he realized that he would never get enough of looking at him, he turned and disappeared into the dying shadows.

 

*****

 

Killian gritted his teeth as his horse galloped through the huge dunes of sand. The coarse wind brushed against his face, drowning the rising whispers of the past in its howl. His eyes remained fixed on the horizon, his heart dreading what awaited him on the other side of the dunes.

“My King, my King!”

Killian turned to his right and saw Omerion struggling to keep up with his pace. He reined his horse to a stop. His men were still far behind.

“My King, we have been riding hard for the past five hours. The horses are getting exhausted and so are the soldiers. Maybe, if we could rest for a while before we reach the war ground. It would be futile to reach there drained.”

Killian nodded. The Royal Advisor arranged for a small rest as all the soldiers and horses stopped for a break. Meanwhile, the king retreated to the side as he sat alone, hidden from the sight of others. He played with his dagger, lost in his thoughts. He smiled at the red lines appearing on his bare palm.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Omerion approaching him.

“Killian, what-”

“It’s a double-edged dagger. And such a silly treacherous one,” the young king laughed as he kept fiddling with the weapon, “No matter how much I spin it, no matter at what angle I yield it from, it always ends up cutting me.”

“Killian,” Omerion said when the laugh died into silence.

“This is where I stand right now,” he whispered, “One side is the Killian who’s in love with Surya. If he wins at the war, it will be the death of a king. And on the other side is King of Almer. If he wins, it will be the death of a lover.” He raised his eyes and looked at his friend through the unshed tears. “But Omerion, no matter who wins today, part of me is going to die, isn’t it?”

The grey-eyed man sat by his side. But even his half-hug didn’t lessen the despair that was rising inside Killian.

“I fell in love with my enemy…” he wept, staring at his bloody hands, “When did all this happen? I don’t even know, Omerion! Was it when I first saw him? When he kissed me? When we first… How did we come to this? I no longer know what to do. I’m scared, Omerion. I feel like I’m being sliced in half with each part fighting against the other.”

“You don’t have to do this. Maybe, you could leave this war to the General. You just have to give the orders and return to Almer…”

“No.” Killian wiped his tears. “Thousands of people in Almer have their hopes pinned on me, hundreds behind us trust me with their lives and hundreds ahead of us are battling for me. I need to do this by myself, no matter what’s the cost.”

“But…”

“And you know very well that only one person can stop him, can end this war. And it’s me.”

Killian rose to his feet. He adjusted the sword sheath strapped to his waist. He steeled himself as the sting from the cuts from his hand rose, reminding him of the pain awaiting him. Will it be the downfall of a king or the loss of a lover? No matter which one, he knew that he would have to accept the death of part of him.

“It’s time to ride to war.”

 

*****

 

Killian rested his head on Surya’s shoulders. He smiled as he took in the scent of sandalwood. Two weeks had passed since he had last seen him, two weeks spent in constant worry and tension. Now that he was in his arms, all the agitation came to a rest.

“I missed you,” he said, hugging him tighter.

“Me too.”

Surya squirmed as his fingers brushed against his waist.

“What happened?”

“Nothing,” Surya replied as he broke away.

“No, tell me. Did I do anything wrong?”

“No, it’s not that,” Surya said, walking away, “it’s just that I’m a bit ticklish.”

“Really?” Killian grinned as he stepped forward. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“That’s because I know exactly how you would react.”The admonishing look failed with the smile creeping on his face. “Look, Killian, we don’t have time for this.”

“We always have time for more laughter, sweetheart.”

Killian ran toward the black-haired prince while the lattertried to escape his outstretched fingers. Their raucous laughter filled the room. They jumped on the bed, they circled around the lamps, and they dove behind the curtains. Finally, Killian wrapped his arms around Surya, spinning him. He pinned him against the wall. Their chests were pressed against each other. Their noses were almost touching, their hot breath warming each other. Killian’s fingers roamed over the bare waist, elicitating peals of laughter from the prince. They stopped as the blue eyes looked at the black ones. Against their panted breaths, their lips came together in a kiss.

“Surya…” A voice came from outside.

Killian jumped away as the door burst open. He came face to face with Prince Alven, Surya’s elder brother.

“Who is…” the confusion on the elder prince’s facegave in to fury as he recognized Killian. “How dare you come here?”

“Alven, let me explain,” Surya said but his brother had already jumped on Killian. The latter fell to the ground under the weight. He cried out loud as fists rained on him. His body screamed in agony. He fought for the upper hand but failed.

“Guards, guards!”Alven’s cold voice shouted. “We have a spy in the castle.”

“No!” Killian could hear Surya trying to break his brother away from him. “It’s not what you’re thinking.”

“Dirty Almerian! How dare he come here?”

Behind the sounds of the blows and Surya’s protests, Killian heard the approaching steps of the guards. The clunking sound of their armor echoed like a death knoll in his ears. His arms and legs flailed around, hoping to find a hole to escape. He shouted, he cried for help.

As suddenly as it had started, Alven’s body fell limp over him. Despite his paining body, he shot to his feet. As he wiped the blood from his mouth, he saw Surya standing in front of him with a metal vase in his hand.

“He’ll survive. I hit him lightly,” he said, as if uttering it rapidly would make him less guilty, “But you need to get out of here.”

The sound of approaching metal resounded louder than ever. Surya dragged him to the window. Killian held his breath as both of them jumped over the ledge. His bloodied body hurt even more as he rolled on the ground. But he didn’t have time to stop. Surya took his hand and they tore down the streets.

Shouts of orders boomed over the city as the guards declared an alert. Suddenly, the sounds of unsheathing swords rose from every corner. They followed the two princes like hungry hounds out for blood. Yet Surya’s hand in his never wavered.

“Over here,” Surya hissed. The crisscrossing of the streets looked like a never ending maze to Killian but apparently, they held no secrets for the black-haired prince. They weaved through the interlaced streets, barely avoiding any confrontation with the guards.

Killian’s heart beat increased. His body screamed to stop, as if it could give up any moment. Many times, he stumbled, he tumbled down the street. Blood along with dust covered his face and his clothes. Both princes came to a halt as a small group of guards appeared from nowhere in front of them. Surya grabbed a nearby crowbar and launched over them before they could grab the intruder.

“Killian, run!”

The blue-eyed prince froze in place. His body, his mind yelled at him to flee, to escape from this mess. Yet something held him in place. He watched as Surya fought with all his might. His black mane whipped as he spun around blocking the guards’ way. He crouched; he jumped, avoiding the blows. He yielded the crowbar like a sword, never hesitating to hit, or to even kill.

For him.

“Run!”

The shout broke him from his trance. His feet backed into the shadows of safety. As he turned, a scream resounded through the walls of the city.

“Surya!” he yelled as he saw the fallen prince. He rushed to his side. The groans of his body burned under the roaring rage. He grabbed the fallen crowbar. He struck it with all he could at the guards. A deep satisfaction rose in his chest as he heard a loud thunk of metal connecting with bone. The swords cut through him, drawing blood. Pain shot through him but he never faltered. His hold on the crowbar tightened as he struck the last guard on the head. He stood and watched as he crumpled to the ground.

The crowbar fell to the ground as he ran to Surya’s side. He was already on his feet, although his legs shook. He wiped the blood from his forehead.

“I’ll be fine,” he tried to smile but it turned to a grimace as he raised his hand to his head.

The sounds of guards closing in filled the air, this time rowdier than ever. It seemed like the two had attracted the attention of everyone through the shouts and noises.

“Killian, the wall of the city isn’t too far off,” Surya held his hand, tighter than ever. The black eyes bore into his blue ones, “There’s a stable at the end of this street. There won’t be anyone there at this time. Go there, grab a horse and escape as quickly as you can.”

“No! I’m not leaving you here. They’ll kill you!”

“I’m their prince, Killian. They won’t kill me,” Surya half-laughed. But Killian knew him well enough to see the fear reflecting in those eyes. What if they thought he was a traitor? Maybe they wouldn’t kill him but they could always hurt him. His bloodied forehead was enough proof.

“No…” He couldn’t leave him in this state.

“Killian…”

“Come with me. We’ll leave this city and just, I don’t know, go somewhere else.”

“Someone needs to be here to hold them off, to buy some time. And it has to be me.”

The clunking of metal loomed nearer with each moment. Killian hated how time was slipping through his hands. How could he leave Surya here? What if…

“I promise you that nothing will happen to me,” Surya hugged him. “They won’t dare. But they won’t hesitate even one second to kill you. If something happens to you, Killian, I swear I’ll go crazy.”

Killian felt wetness on his shoulders. His own eyes brimmed with tears as he took in the soothing scent of sandalwood. His muscles groaned yet he hugged him tighter, drawing strength from their mingling warmth.

“I’ll hold on to that promise, Surya. Because I swear that if something happens to you, I’ll burn down the whole Drona with my own bare hands.”

He kissed the black-haired prince, hungry and anxious as if it would be enough to stop time and stretch the kiss into eternity. His hands roamed around, locking every piece of taste, scent and touch in the dark recesses of his mind. Before he could no longer stop himself, he broke away and ran toward the city walls.

Something gnawed him deep inside, trying to pull him back. It was almost as if he had forgotten something precious back in the city but he kept running away. He reached the stable. He took one of the horses and fled from the Dronian city. He never dared look back lest he wouldn’t have the strength to continue. He bit his lips as he pushed the horse to run faster. He thought about Surya. He recalled how he had fought, how they dared raise arms against him. His stomach turned to lead, worrying about his safety. His reason told him that he would be safe; after all he was the prince. Yet there was this part of him who couldn’t stop thinking about the worst.

The sun had already risen to the pinnacle of its ascent when he entered the Almerian city. Faces turned and stared at him as he passed through the streets. His bruised face, dust and blood coated attire raised whispers behind him. Leaving the streets and the unnerving gaze of the people behind, he reached the castle. He swung down from the horse and handed the stable boy the reins.

“My Prince,” Killian turned and saw Omerion running toward him. “My Prince, the king is asking for you. He… he doesn’t look very pleased.”

The prince nodded and made his way to his father’s chambers. He chewed his lips, wondering if his father had heard about this. He knew that he would sooner or later. Words from the eyes-and-ears of spies ran faster than wild fires.

Killian gulped as soon as he entered his father’s room. Only a few guards were present. The door closed behind him.

“Father, you summoned me?” he asked hesitantly.

“Where were you?”

“I… I was at friend’s place.”

“At the palace in Drona?” his father spat. “Spying on the Dronians?”

“What? No, it’s not like that-“

“Of course, I know that. But that’s what they are saying. I’m very much aware where and how they caught you. Frolicking with the younger Dronian prince in his room...”

“I love him, Father,” For the first time since he entered the room, Killian raised his head and looked at his father in his eyes. He gulped at the fury directed toward him but he refused to look away. “And he loves me too.”

“He loves you?”

“Yes. We have been seeing each other for more than one year.”

The king advanced toward him, his hands outstretched, as if on the verge of strangling him, “How can you be such a fool? Don’t you see that this was all a set up by the Dronian’s to trap you, to bring the fall of Almer?”

“No, Father. He’s not like that-“

Killian stopped as his father slapped. The sound resounded in the room, as painful as the sting on his face. His hands balled in fists. He looked at the floor with eyes brimming with tears.

“You dare defend him in front of me!” the king bellowed, “He’s betrayed you. Don’t you see it?”

Killian half-smiled as he whispered. “He hasn’t. He’ll refuse to talk to me if he’s angry. He’ll rage at the world if he’s helpless. He’ll wait for me if he’s worried. But no matter what happens, he’ll never betray me.” The prince looked at the king. “So say what you want about him, I won’t believe you. Because I know what’s true.”

His father’s chest heaved as he glared at him with disgust plain on his face. The silence broke as the door burst open. A guard entered with a draped platter.

“My King,” the royal guard said, “the Dronians have sent this.”

The king removed the veil. Killian froze as the Almerian ambassador’s head rolled to the ground. He averted his eyes as he felt his father’s gaze on him.

“Have you brought him?”

Killian watched as they dragged the Dronian ambassador to the room. His hands were tied and his mouth gagged. The prince ran toward his father, hoping to somehow change his mind, to make him realize what was the truth. But before he could even utter a word, his father’s sword was out of its sheath and the man’s head tumbled to the ground.

“Send them the reply,” the king said as he wiped his blade. “War has been declared.”

Killian stood, shaking. The last words resounded in his ears. He looked at the blood spilled on the carpet, the headless body… His insides squirmed in fear as he realized what had just happened.

 

*****

 

Killian stopped in front of the field of war. The land ahead of him was painted in red; he knew it was more than the mere rays of the dying sun. It was the blood of his comrades, painted by the harsh strokes of swords. The king descended from the horse as Omerion came running to his side.

“My King, both sides have retreated from the battle to rest during the night. The aides are taking care of the injured soldiers and removing the… bodies of the dead.”

“And where is he?” Both of them knew who Killian meant. There was only one he had to meet.

“Killian-”

“Where is he, Royal Advisor?”

“He’s still out there, my King.”

Killian took his sword out of his sheath. His wrists shook under the sudden weight. The tip fell loudly on the ground. With the rough metal of the hilt cutting through his palm, he walked ahead.

“My King, maybe you should take some soldiers with you. There are many who-”

“No,” Killian said as he kept walking, “I need to face him by myself.”

He dragged the tip across the ground, drawing a line through the red. Corpses lay scattered in front of him. Their lifeless eyes looked at the sky, but never seeing anything. Heads and bodies, some separated, were marked by cuts and blows. His blue eyes recoiled at the sight, wishing to turn away from the horrors of the war but he forced himself to look at each of the faces and their dead eyes. These were the men with whom he had grown up. He had played with them in the yard of the palace, he had learnt swordsmanship by their side, and hehad danced with them in the annual folk dance. These were the men who had trusted him with their lives.

“Trent. Hart. Jain.” Killian whispered the name of each one he had known in the past, “Colt. Pren.Ulric…”

Each uttered name broke something deep within him. His eyes brimmed with tears but he didn’t let any of them flow away. He bottled the grief inside him, adding it to the burning strength he had been trying to build inside him.

The line stretched through the maze of war, passing through the body of each Almerian soldier. It stopped at the last corpse. It was the one that Killian stared at the most. His heart wept, beat against the walls of his chest, pleading with him to turn away. Yet he kept his eyes fixed on the former Almerian King, his father.

He finally raised his eyes and saw him standing amidst the bodies. His black locks, no longer playful and light, hung loose along his drooped shoulders with the crown shining atop. The sword lay limp in his hand. He saw nothing but defeat in the black eyes of the Dronian King Surya.

“Killian…”

The Almerian King’s strength faltered as the haunting plea reached him. He averted his eyes, knowing that he would crumble if he kept looking at those black orbs.

“I…,” Surya continued, “I had to. He killed my father and my brother. I had to step up… Drona… my people… Killian, look at me. Please believe me. I didn’t want this to happen; I didn’t want to do this. He kept coming at me and I… Killian, believe me.”

This time, Killian didn’t stop the tears as they spilled over. He just stood there as he heard the supplication. He then stepped back as Surya came closer. He watched as the Dronian king froze with his plea stopping midway.

“Go on, then,” the words were no longer the cold strong tone he had been hiding behind. They came out harsh and bitter. “Finish me off and do justice to your people.”

“We don’t have to do this, Killian. We can go back…”

“Go back? Look around you, Surya. People died because of us. Each body you see around you was someone’s father, son, husband, brother. They were the ones who left their family behind for us. And we killed them. I killed them. How can we go back? Tell me, Surya, how can we go back and make everything as before?”

Killian pulled at his hair as the images of the lifeless eyes flashed before his eyes. The sharp corners of the crown pricked at his wrist, drawing blood. His lips trembled; scared of apologizing to the ones he had killed. A perverted voice in his head laughed at him, reminding him how deranged he was at this moment.

“But we can stop all this now…” Surya’s soft voice washed over him, soothing and warm like always. But Killian knew the sweet pretence behind those words. He shook his head as the tears kept flowing.

“No, we can’t…”

“Yes, we can. We are kings now…”

“Exactly, Surya,” Killian dropped his hand by his side, defeated. “We are kings now. We are no longer the carefree princes who can do whatever we wished. The fates of two kingdoms, of hundreds of families, of thousands of lives rest in our hand. Will you follow a king who’s too weak to seek justice for its people? Will you trust a king who left the war field like a coward?”

Killian lowered his head as the crown on his head weighed heavy. He heard Surya’s steps coming closer to him but he was too weak to move. He bit his lip as the king wiped away his tears. All the anger he had been holding on as a shield was seeping away, exposing his weakness.

“Then, let’s leave all this,” Surya whispered, “I’ll go wherever you take me. Somewhere far away, with just the two of us.”

Killian rested his head against the strong chest.

“And what of our people, Surya? There’s no one left now to take our place. Will you be happy with me, knowing that you left your people by themselves?”

He didn’t dare raise his eyes and look at the black-haired king. He knew the answer yet he refused to see it. He stayed still, rocked by the rhythmic rise and fall of the chest. He waited for a lie, something to tell him that it was going to be fine. Both of them just stood there, waiting for the ray of hope which would never come.

“What are we going to do, now?” Surya broke the silence.

Killian wiped away his tears. He took a few steps back. Looking at the black eyes, he raised his sword. The metal weapon shook in his hand. He bit his lips as he tried to draw strength from the determination he had bottled inside himself.

“This is the only way to end all this, Surya.” The words came out as a deadly whisper. But the king merely looked at him, his sword untouched.

“Please don’t.” The black eyes pleaded at him. Killian found his strength shaking along with his whole body. He tightened the hold on the hilt of the sword.

“Raise your sword, King of Drona,” he shouted.

“I won’t.”

“Why? You had no problem rising against my father. You killed him, didn’t you?” Killian’s voice trembled as the anger rose in his chest, “Now, why are you being such a coward in front of me? Go ahead kill me, too. Raise your sword!”

Surya shook his head, wiping his tears. His hands were balled into fists by his side.

“Coward!” Killian shouted as he took a step ahead. “Is the Dronian King such a weakling that he would prefer to lose without a real fight?”

Surya laughed- a dry humorless laugh that boomed throughout the ground. He ran his hands through his hair as the laugh turned to dead silence. A soft murmur rose in the air, only for the ears of the kings. “I had already lost to you, long ago, King of Almer. I lost to the boy whose eyes never left me as we danced in a crowd. How can I win now?”

Killian froze. All the anger, all the strength he had been holding on for so long turned to nothing, leaving him weak and empty. He watched as Surya came closer. His heart beat faster than ever.

“But you were right, Killian,” the Dronian King said. “There’s only one way to end this war.”

His breath stuck in his throat. Surya grabbed the sword with his bare hand. He walked closer to the king, sliding his palm across the blade. Killian tried to wrench the sword away but Surya’s hold remained tight on the metal. He helplessly watched as the red blood covered the grey iron.

Killian raised his eyes. Surya was close now. Their chests were pressed against each other. He could feel his breath on his face. With his free hand, the Dronian King brushed away a stray strand of locks. Killian’s body begged him to step back, to run away for all his defenses were crumbling down. Yet he merely closed his eyes as the hand travelled from his cheek to the nape of his neck.

Tears rose, fresh, in his closed eyes as the lips touched his- a gentle kiss, soothing the pleas and despairs rising inside him. The hand travelled from his neck to his back, bringing them closer than before. Killian gently raised his hand and touched that face, those silky tresses…

The bloodied hand moved from the blade, covering Killian’s on the hilt. Its strong hold steadied the shaking. The sword rose, directed by the new strength.

“No,” Killian pleaded, “No, no…”

But the hand didn’t stop. Killian fought against its hold, its strength, but he remained weak in the hands on the sword and behind his back. The tears escaped through his closed eyelids. The sword found its target.

Killian’s hand roamed through the black locks, along the slender body of the one he loved- fierce and hungry, roused by the dying anger. He latched onto those lips, a kiss tainted by the salty tears. He lost himself in that familiar sandalwood scent. Memories made surface- memories of a life he had thought he had long left behind.

The hands dropped from the sword’s hilt and from his back.

“Surya,” Killian cried as Surya crumbled to the ground. His mid section was covered in red withthe sword impaled inside him. “No….”

Killian cradled the injured king in his lap. He openly sobbed as he removed the blade. A hand drenched in red rose and wiped his tears.

“In the end, you managed to defeat all the Dronian by yourself,” Surya half-laughed, half-coughed. Blood spilled from the corner of his mouth. “You’re stronger than I could ever be, Killian. I know you will always be just to the people of Drona.”

“This is not fair. You-”

“We both know that it was the only way. And hey, you were right. We are the ones who brought the two kingdoms as one. Now there will be no Killian or Surya.”

Killian averted his eyes as tears clouded his sighted. Surya grabbed his hand, feeble and weak. His breaths were coming rough and heavy.

“My only regret is that I didn’t get to live with you. To wake up next to you every morning, to be with you every day, to spend my whole life by your side…”

Killian watched as a tear escaped from the black eyes before the life in them extinguished. The limp hand fell from his grasp. Killian silently arranged the wild black locks neatly. He gently closed the black eyes, knowing that it was the last time he would be seeing them. He watched the Dronian King as he laystill in his lap, as if he was asleep. He stroke his thumb across the tear stained cheek. This time, he made no attempt to wipe his tears as they broke loose. He sat there in the empty war ground with the one he had loved dead. He lost himself in the memories of that mischievous grin, those reassuring words and that sandalwood scent.

He had no idea how long he had been sitting there. By the time, he came to his senses, the sunwas rising. He looked at his empty lap but he could still feel his weight, his presence on him. He quietly rose to his feet. His whole body groaned under the fatigue yet he paid no heed. He walked away. The sword fell from his hand, the clang resounding through the air. The crown slipped from his head, tumbling to the ground.

“My King, we won.”

“The Dronian have accepted defeat…”

“Killian… Killian…”

Shouts rose from all sides, calling him. Men bowed at his sight, men came running to help him. He pushed them all away as he kept walking. He went beyond the war ground into the surrounding desert.

His muscles screamed for respite; the iron armor weighed on his body, making each step an ordeal; his vision blurred. He never stopped, walking away. The tears which he had thought had long dried up rose fresh in his eyes. They slid across his cheek, tinged red from the dried blood. He sought to escape yet he didn’t know from what. He closed his eyes with his whole body burning under the harsh sun.

When he couldn’t take another step, he stumbled and fell down. Sand dunes surrounded him on every side. The wind howled around him. His labored breaths resounded in his ears. He half-opened his eyes and saw him. The boy dancing in the crowd. His laughs reverberated through the rhythm of the music. His black eyes twinkled when they saw him.

“Surya!” he cried, beating his fist on the ground.