A War Worth Fighting |DISCONTINUED|

Chapter 13: Maybe The Last

5015 words.

Boring. These council meetings haven't changed a bit. Killua lets out a long, drawn-out sigh. He tapped his quill anxiously. All five archmages are seated at a rectangular table, some familiar, some not. Well, he knows they aren't the archmages from Heaven's Arena. Chrollo standing over the ring of bodies evaded his mind. Killua grimaced.

"Killua Zoldyck, is something bothering you?"

He rolls his eyes, "As a matter of fact, yes. Do any of you realize the state of this country as of currently?"

Shiota, an archmage Killua's vaguely familiar with, hastily stood from his seat, "I'd think carefully about the words that come out of your mouth next."

"Why, are you gonna finish me for good this time?" Killua shoots back.

The other froze.

Pff, figures. Shiota may have not been particularly significant in Killua's past, but he was surely a part of it.

Coughing as if reclaiming his dignity, Shiota seats himself. "We'd like you, Killua, to join the Kakin Empire," he says.

Killua formally declines, "Sorry, but I can't get involved with a contested territory that's so heavily targeted by both factions without permission of the Alliance king."

Another scoffs, muttering something similar to, "Relying on humans-"

Killua pointed his glare, needle-sharp. "My beliefs and decisions are my own, and that is final."

Silence lingered in the room.

Since the beginning of the coronation, Killua felt Shiota's eyes boring into his back and tracing his every move. The former assassin wasn't dumb enough to not recognize the mage stalking him while in the library, either. It's not Killua's fault his lover dumped him. Killua could still remember that annoying redhead pestering nearly every time he walked to the library, to his room-- everywhere!

One day, an elf with tan skin and slick brown hair stood in the way. "stay away from Cookie," he demanded.

"Move," he attempts to bypass the other, yet the elf only stands in Killua's way once more. "Who's that?" Killua questioned half-heartedly. He really didn't give a damn, and who names their child Cookie?

"The girl with beautiful red hair and-"

Killua interrupted him, "I'd gladly stay away, but that moron follows me everywhere I go. If you can get her to screw off, I'll be thankful."

Shiota lunged at him, but Killua pinned him to the wall, putting a wand to his neck, "I'll say it one more time. Move, or I'll kill you both."

'You're becoming an Archmage? I know your true colors,' Shiota had said mere minutes before the coronation. It's in the past, Killua tells himself. Just because he tries to forget, it doesn't mean he doesn't have to deal with the remnants of it— of Heaven's Arena and everyone involved, of his family, and the harm he's done that lengthened the world war.

Suddenly, as if a bomb had just fallen on the city, a sinister aura implodes, prickling up Killua's spine and stunning all of those around him. His eyes widened in shock, pupils contracted, and staring at the center of the table.

Nanika.

Something's wrong.

Shiota is quick to respond. He reaches for his wand, but the ex-assassin is quicker, wielding a dagger to his head. The other members rise from their seats; Killua knocks them back in an arcane blast. "Cast something; he dies. Interrupt me; he dies. Now, sit down and put your hands on the table."