The terrace of the Gothalis Estate overlooked the edge of the village. Tall enough to see everything as if it were almost a front row seat, just close enough to the stage to watch and interact.

Kealie knew her knees would never steady themselves so long as she stood atop the balcony, watching her brother tied to a makeshift throne below.

Music played, although somber and foreign.

Never having heard the melodies before, she wondered if they were Nerydian songs. From the look lining Ydreth's face, they weren't.

On either side of her was a haughty viper in a woman's skin, waiting. Like asps in the desert lands, they marked every single silhouette entering the open square, looking for a target, searching for another victim.

So displeased with the current meal, they already lusted after another.

In that moment, Kealie realized the truth behind their evil was innate. An essence so permanent they might as well wear it with pride.

Clouds darkened overhead, churning along the coastline. The Nerydian's weren't weary, if anything relieved that this might be over quickly or that the smell might be masked in the downpour. However, the humans weren't so comfortable. Any mortal present peered up at the royals or eyed the detained Prince wearily.

The softest thunder rolled, echoing against the rolling waves in a gentle warning.

Kealie braced her hands on the railing, gripping the oak with a force strong enough to splinter the wood beneath her fingers. She flinched slightly, running her skin against the prickling edges with wonder.

She was strong.

Nixian's gaze lingered on no one and nothing, the faint semblance of himself only a trace in his empty stare. He looked forward, ignoring even Kealie.

A pit in her stomach bottomed out when the bell began tolling again, the music amping to life around them and an uproar of chaos ensued for only a moment.

Kealie's arms pinched with restraint, her whole body trembling as she saw Naida's lips pull into a wicked smile.

This was real.

Real.

So unbelievably real.

Her heart hammered loudly, slamming with such strong punctuating beats she heard it in her ears. For a moment, she wondered if Nixian could hear it as well. He lifted his forest green eyes to her.

A well, deep and endless, full of sorrow and shame swelled there. The traces of a goodbye only seconds away as if he wasn't even going to try anything.

As though even if he did, it would end in demise.

A male with a slender frame and lanky arms swayed his way up the stairs. The brown hair and dark eyes were an immediate giveaway for Kealie. King Wendal Tradyll slowly wandered over to the throne from which Nixian would be burned. He rested a hand against the silver backing, barely touching a deep sea velvet.

"Citizens of Luverie," the King began, vision both scanning the crowd and working up to where Kealie stood on the terrace. "For what feels like centuries, we've fought for our land against the sea. We have fought to maintain order and peace for our land. Many have tried to defy us, to take this shoreline for their own. And today... Today we will send a message to Aelusia. Once and for all."

The masses either cheered or screamed, Kealie could not tell the difference between those of joy and outrage. She felt a pulse burning in her chest, aching from within.

"Nerydians," he said again, smirking as he held Kealie's stare above all else. "Tonight we shall watch your Prince burn and see what the gods have to say of it."

Thunder snapped overhead, emphasizing his words.

Nixian looked at her too, the hardened eyes soft and edgeless. The playful demeanor and pragmatic vision were gone, leaving only someone defeated and estranged.

Perhaps Verun laced him with magic or bound him in silver, Kealie was only able to speculate from her perch. Her front row seat to King Wendal stepping around and tracing sigils on the floor in blood.

Nixian's blood.

At first, only the markings carved into the ground glowed to life. They flickered in wild shades of blue and green, just as her potion had so many years ago.

It was sickening.

Naida chuckled next to her, raising a brow at Kealie. The confidence exuded from her. She believed she'd won.

Her mother reached up and grabbed Kealie by the neck, digging her nails into her skin. She held her pressed into the railing, facing the murder before her.

No one heard her yelp as the fire beneath Nixian began to rise, searing the edges of his mocking throne. He shifted ever so slightly, appearing drugged and disoriented before slumping into himself.

In one, slow, sure movement, Nixian looked up and made eye contact with Kealie.

"I'm sorry, sister," he mouthed, whispering the words into the storm.

The fire grew higher, burning at his clothing and legs.

Kealie thrashed slightly, stirring nothing but a laugh from Naida.

Even Ydreth only smiled.

The flames erupted into a bonfire of light and smoke, pushing into the seat and beginning to melt flesh. Nixian groaned, thrashing now.

Kealie choked on a sob, tears pouring down her face.

He screamed.

The loudest, most agonizing scream Kealie had ever heard.

It shattered her.

Lightning streaked through the sky as Kealie let out a bellowing cry and pivoted on her mother, retching Naida's hand behind her back and ripping it out of the socket. She slammed her writhing body into the wooden frame and reached down to hold her neck.

Kealie stared into Naida's soul, into those damning brown eyes, as the pulsing deep within her chest flooded down her arms.

The woman beneath her began drowning from the inside out, sputtering out kelp and water from her mouth and nose.

Kealie dropped her onto the ground when blood dripped from her eyes, lifting her stare to the Nerydian servant beside her.

Ydreth quaked, turning on her heel to run.

Kealie felt her body evaporate and materialize in front of her, reaching out to snap the woman's neck before racing to the balcony again.

Nixian was nearly enveloped in flames, still screaming at the top of his lungs. Broken sobs edged his shallow breaths.

Red.

Her vision, her heart, her mind.

Kealie let the red consume her.

A dark laugh echoed behind her, beckoning her and Kealie delved deep inside of herself as she turned to face Verun.

The evil grin faltered when he saw the bodies on her either side, only managing to take one step back as Kealie threw herself at him.

Punching her fists straight into his sternum and ripping him apart from the inside out.

Verun coughed up blood, staring at her with giant eyes wide with disbelief.

Horror.

Kealie ripped his heart out of his chest, growling as she spit on him.

She chucked the organ to the side and closed her eyes, willing herself to the stage.

When she opened them, there was screaming.

The villagers and the guards yelled and ran as Kealie, bathed in blood, stormed through the crowd of thousands and made her way to the wooden stairs.

"She'll kill us all!"

"She's after the Royal family!"

"Hide!"

A broken, wry grin tugged at Kealie's face as she found her way through the sea of crying and to her brother's burnt body.

Tears stained her cheeks, speckled with blood. Her wailing rebounded off of every building in the village as Kealie threw herself at the charred throne. Their backs and chests slamming together, Nixian's limp remains in her arms as they almost plummeted off the stage.

The downpour hastened, buckets of water soaking Kealie to her bones as she scrambled over to where Nixian had landed.

His breaths were shallow and fading.

She lifted her crimson vision to the King, standing paralyzed at the scene before him. His legs shook, his mind altered.

Kealie had a decision.

King Wendal's head.

Or Nixian's life.

Word Count: 1,330      Total Word Count: 19,790