I had poisoned the prince and now they were coming for me.

Calm breezes sang their sagas through the night, carrying crisp waves of air along with it. Not a single cloud graced the sky with its presence. A sliver of moon glimmered in the darkness, a light among the darkness. Murky streetlights obscured the view of the stars so far above me and the kingdom of Aisha.

In my head, Ella's last words to me echoed, her sweet voice lilting the syllables in a pleasant cadence.

"Brother, I'll be back soon," Ella had called out. She turned around and headed out of the front door. She never reached her destination of the school.

There was a soft knock on the door. I'd been expecting it for a while. A young guard, no older than my seventeen years, stood panting from a fast ride on his horse, worry etched into his face.

"Sir, Prince Stellan has fallen ill."

I knew the drill all too well. I picked up my guitar, which I had already stowed away in its traveling case for this occasion. With the case in hand, I exited the house with the guard. I mounted my horse and the guard and I set off without a moments' waste.

As we approached the palace, my palms grew sweaty. Butterflies abounded in my stomach, causing a sinking feeling to settle in my abdomen. Adrenaline shot through my veins. Could I really go through with this?

I had to. I had to for Ella.

The gates opened for me, no one questioning the presence of a young man known for his healing magic. But, before tomorrow's dawn, I'd be bringing death instead of life. This is for Ella, I reassured myself.

Torches bordered the castle's walls, radiating grim shadows across the premises. A hushed silence, far from the usual dull buzz of chatter that adorned the halls, filled the air like a deep morning haze, spreading an ominous aura. Death was coming. I was going to be leading its siege.

The servants opened the doors for me, saluting the man they knew as a savior. Immediately, the queen sprang up to greet me. "You have to save Stellan," Queen Rosalie murmured. "Promise me he'll be alright."

Nothing, except for Ella's kidnapping, had ever pained me more than making that false promise to the queen, the woman who had taken me from the streets and saved me from a life of starvation.

"Thank you, Ezra," the queen smiled, a sigh of relief washing through her face. The sinking feeling in my stomach grew, spreading through my whole body.

Servants lead me to the infirmary. Stellan's father stood over him. The king's son was unnaturally still, Stellan's beautiful blue eyes encased by his eyelids in the fitful unconscious battle for survival.

The king noticed my presence and bowed. I returned the gesture of respect and approached the bed. Retrieving the guitar from its case, all eyes were on me as I began to strum a song.

An old saying echoed in my head. Magic can be used to heal or to destroy, to bring life or to bring death. It all depends on whether the user is good or evil.

As I played the song, colors danced in the air. Only I could see the bright hues of sky blue and scarlet red, of fiery orange and royal purple. They were the colors of life. But, they were evanescent, their happiness as brief as a blink.

The note. The note had said: If you want to see Ella again, you must kill Stellan.

A simple sentence scratched on crumpled newspaper changed me from good to evil. Here I was, a warrior of life who had deserted and reverted to the side of death. It was time to lead the assault at the forefront of death's army.

My music can be used to heal. But, my deepest, darkest secret is that it can be used to suck the life out of one's body.

All it took was a few deviations from the song, a few aberrations in the finger placements, and the colors turned ghastly. The vivid hues of crimson and periwinkle faded into the darkness and forewarning of blacks and greys emerged.

It was time to finish this devilish deed. I pictured Ella's face in my mind, her beautiful voice and bright smile looking back at me.

An energy I had never felt before awakened in me. I played death's song, the music that sucked the soul out of Stellan's body. As the last breath was pulled from Stellan, I collapsed. My guitar dropped to the ground, snapping from the strain of the magic.

"No..." I whispered. What had I done?

"No!" Queen Rosalie cried. She shook me. "Can't you do anything else? You have to save him!"

"This can't be happening..." I murmured. My world began to grow hazy.

I was a murderer. I did it for Ella, I told myself. It was little consolation. But, I'd get to see Ella again. She would be safe and sound...

Did I make the right choice?

The door burst open. A guard stood there, a box in his hands.

"We found... We found..." The guard was gasping for air, panic striking his voice.

In the box, there was a human head. Instantly, I recognized the brown curls and hazel eyes opened in perpetually fright.

Ella. It was unmistakably Ella's face.

It was a trick. They had killed her, and I had been played. I murdered in cold blood.

No... NO MORE!

They say mages often go crazy with power. I went crazy with loss. I had created this mess. There was only one way to fix it.

My hand went to the dagger on my belt. I grasped it, and raised the knife above me. I closed my eyes and plunged the blade straight into my chest.

And I knew no more pain.