His feet pounded against the hard ground. Rain caused his hair to stick to his face and obscured his vision.  A silver arrow whizzed past his face, barely missing him, and embedded itself into the tree he'd been leaning on for a short break. He turned and cursed himself for stopping. Twelve glowing aruas were advancing on him, so he had to move.

Uneven breathing had become an old friend of his eons ago. He tried not to look back as he heard the gruff voice of his uncle calling after him, beckoning him back, but continued to run. 

They'd turned on him. Used his flaw against him. Blamed him of treason against his own family. And now here he was, running for his miserable life.  A flash of lightning and he was thrown onto his side. A harsh ringing in his ears caused him to cry out, giving away his location to his predators. 

He pushed himself onto his feet and met the steely glares of his family.  "You've nowhere to run, boy." Murhoth  grunted and hoisted his gun higher, aiming for the left side of his chest.  "I can try." He replied tiredly and turned, only to be met by the twins.  Nevermind, he thought to himself. If this was how he was going down, then so be it. He'd make his final stand against the people he'd once give his life for. He no longer had anything to live for; to fight for. He weakly lifted his fists into a defensive position.

"Gimme everything you got." He challenged and the twin archers charged him. He prayed to whoever would listen, someone, anyone, and using the last of his strength, he caught a silver arrow in one hand and a golden arrow in another. He snapped them both and advanced on his cousins with a dangerous look in his eyes. 

Then everything happened in a flash. Nomen and Alia were piled atop eachother, unconscious. As was the rest of the council, until his father, Kurstar, and his uncle, Munstar, were left standing. 

Thunder boomed menacingly overhead and he could her the faint sound of the waves pounding the shoreline. Kurstar slammed his scepter to the ground the same time Munstar thrusted his staff into the air, causing a minor earthquake. 

"Bring it." The Majakai remarked and picked Feonia's shield from her unconscious figure, holding the difference between life and death close to him. 

"You could've died a hero. Instead, you shall be remembered as a traitor to the Council." Munstar thundered and the two brothers charged him.

He fought ferociously, blocking blow after blow, but it seemed he was only on defence, and he desperately needed to get on the offence. A cold wind blew through the air and sent a chill down his spine. He felt the knots in his muscles loosen. Felt his breathing become even once more. 

His spirits had lifted. He would win. He had to achieve freedom.  He managed to strike Munstar in his abdomen, the silver blood of the Inaili pouring from his wound. He threw his shield into Munstar's forehead, making him fall unconscious.

One down, one to go. He thought and turned to Kurstar, who charged him with his scepter high in the air. He dropped to his knees, missing the fatal blow from Kurstar. Swiftly, he jumped to his feet, only to be met with the sight of Kurstar charging at him, water swirling the tips of his scepter, anger flashing brightly in his green eyes. 

The former Inaili grabbed hold of Munstar's Silver Staff, ignoring the excruciating pain running through his arm, and dropped to his knees again. He used his feet and turned on the ground, just in time to stab the staff through the Inaili's thigh.

Kurstar roared and dropped to his knees, his scepter falling to his side. The boy picked the scepter up and faced the Inaili. 

Seeing him wield the two most powerful weapons on Earth made the great Inaili come to his senses. They'd banished the half-prince to his death for the same reason that they needed him. He was powerful- and he knew it. This child could kill him in a second. 

The boy pressed the sharp tip of the scepter to his fathers neck, silver blood dripping from both his neck and thigh. 

"I'll let you live." He sneered. "Only so you can pass this tale down through generations; The Prince turned Traitor." The Traitor slammed the scepter to the Inaili's head and he fell down, unconscious. He threw the weapons to the ground with disgust and hiked to the top of the small hill overlooking his home. After years of solitude, he was free. 

Thunder boomed and lightning flashed, and there, atop the small peak of Savior's Hill stood the golden-eyed, black-haired long lost Half-Prince of both the Inaili, and the Majakai.