There was silence as Sacri's declaration fell from his lips into the already charged air. A shudder ran through Feli's body, abhorring the sound of those words being spoken in Sacri's voice. I am their king. Although Sacri, as eldest, did have a claim to the throne, Feli felt his muscles tensing as if to attack. But he held himself still and silent, knowing that when he did speak, it would decide the ultimate future of Riko.

There was a hint of conflict in Cyren's eyes as he broke the tense silence. "Yes, Prince Sacri. You are the heir to the throne."

"Yes," Sacri confirmed. "I am. And I will take my place as monarch to lead our people through this time of darkness." He looked down at the throne. "Your loyalty lies to whom, Cyren Neptu?"

"The king," Cyren said, his voice scarcely above a whisper.

Feli could barely conceal the anger building inside of him as Cyren acquiesced to Sacri's claim. Sacri could not be allowed to rule over the Elves. He had already displayed his faulty judgement by his association with the Black Elves. Feli could not permit him to become king and destroy their country. He simply could not.

"You are not king."

As Feli spoke, his voice harsh, he saw his brother's body relax slightly before tensing again. He knew Sacri had been waiting for him to speak, waiting for him to show any opposition to the heir. Sacri had wanted to know where Feli definitely stood, wanted to know Riko's fate.

"So this is how it will be," he replied, quietly, steadily. But there was a golden fire in his eyes as he met the silvery flames blazing in Feli's orbs.

"Yes," Feli spat. Cyren glanced from one brother to the other before casting a glance over his shoulder as Ocutus silently approached the three, stopping near a column with his hands clasped behind his back.

"Do you still support the throne?" Sacri asked, turning to look at Cyren.

"I swore an oath of allegiance to the throne," Cyren answered evenly. But the conflict was still in his eyes, and Feli could see its presence grow as he finished speaking.

"You are not fit to rule," Feli told Sacri. "You and your darkness are not needed in this country. You may be heir, but you are not king."

"And you are?" Sacri asked, a growl underlying his words.

There was silence again as Feli weighed his words, knowing that he was on the brink of war with his brother. Sacri would never give up the throne; he would have to be made to. The careful peace established by the sacrifice of his parents would have to be shattered in order to stop Sacri, in order to cleanse and rebuild their society. Could he do that, risk that much to bring his brother down?

"Yes," Feli said. Behind him, Ocutus brought his hand up to the sheathed sword on his belt while Cyren lowered his head regretfully. Sacri stepped down from the dais, halting once he reached the polished floor. With the thrones looming behind him, he addressed Feli.

"I can't say I didn't anticipate this, brother. I knew you would never consent to my reign. You hate and fear me too much for you to be obedient. We did not have to be enemies, Feli. You did not have to destroy everything Father and Mother strived toward.

"But since you are quite opposed to my rule, I will have to send you away. You see, you cannot prevent my taking the throne just by stating it vehemently. I am the king. You can't stop it. You can't stop me. Consider yourself...removed from this court." Sacri looked over Feli's shoulder. "Ocutus, show my brother out, please."

As Ocutus stepped forward, Feli thrust his hand out and repelled the Black Elf, casting him back into a pillar as he snarled at his brother. "Sacri, I swear, I will stop you. I will take the throne from you and cast you out. But not just from the court, no. I will ensure you and your dark arts never set foot in Riko again!"

"Quite forceful words," Sacri observed. "Especially coming from one who is alone here."

As Sacri raised his hand, the glimmer of his dark golden Streaks appearing in the air near him, Cyren thrust out his hand and, with a burst of flames, sent Sacri flying back into the base of their father's throne with a sickening thud. As Ocutus began to summon his own magic, Feli blasted him with a bolt of silvery light and the two Elves pounded from the throne room, Sacri's howl of rage echoing after them.

"I thought your allegiance was to the throne," Feli reminded Cyren as they skidded out into the garden. None of the palace attendants had attempted to stop them, either not aware of their betrayal or not willing to stop their prince.

"It is," Cyren shot back, eyes flicking from side to side warily as they raced up to the wall bordering the garden of Tulca Upens. Hitting the wall with enough speed to climb up high enough to grasp the top, the two Elves propelled themselves over the barrier and into freedom. "You just need to take the throne from your brother. If not...then I am for the stake."

"We both will be," Feli said grimly. "But we will not fail. Too much counts on us." He shot a quick glance over at Cyren. "What made you change your mind?"

"Him," Cyren said quietly. "He is not worthy to rule in your parents' place. I saw that clearly today, that his dark arts have completely bound themselves to him. He is gone. We must not let the light follow him."

"No," Feli agreed. "We will not."

We cannot.