All Darkness Dies in Light

I walk in darkness so others can see the light

*Different POV... Who is it?*

         King Caspian and Queen had three children together. Three sons. Athos, Pothos, Aramis. Three boys, all very different, all with great destinies before them. All with the same dark hair as their father and blue eyes as their mother.

Aramis, the youngest, their heir to the Light Coven. The baby of the family, the one who didn't understand the responsibilities that would befall him one day. He acted out often, far from the well-behaved heir the people expected him to be. But for every wrongful action, he flashed the world his best smirk and all was forgiven. He knew how to get away with what he wanted. And he used that skill often. It left his mother worried for the kind of ruler he would be. The Light Coven, the coven of her ancestors, lay in his hands alone.

Their middle child, Pothos, was far worse. While Aramis was irresponsible, Pathos could be downright cruel. He cared for nothing, for no one, save himself and his family. He learned the darkest of magic, fitting as his position of heir to the Dark Coven. He didn't care who he hurt to get what he wanted.

And lastly there was Athos, the eldest, the firstborn, their heir to the throne. The only one with a sense of duty, of responsibility. The only one who understood the weight of the world that rested on shoulders.

That was me.

My brother worried me. I had little faith in them. Aramis seemed to forget entirely that he was meant to represent the purest of magic. They both seemed to forget where our mother came from.

I voiced these concerns to her often.

"It will be different when it comes time for them to take their rightful places," she would say. "When your father and I are gone, it will be different."

And she seemed to believe that too. My mother thought that her eventual death would be what made my brothers grow up.

I had only seen one of them reprimanded once. It was after Aramis had visited my father's harem. He was too rough with one of the girls when she mouthed off to him. She compared him to our father, insulted him and he struck her. When my mother found out, she stormed out of her receiving room. I heard her storming through the halls and left my room to question her why she was so enraged. I couldn't even speak, I didn't dare to.

My mother made it a point to never visit my father's harem. Ever. She didn't even talk about it, barely acknowledged it.

She stepped into my brother's chambers. He and Pathos were both in there, drinking wine and laughing about something unimportant. When my mother flung open the door, their laughter stopped, matching grins frozen on their lips.

"Mother," Aramis greeted her, "what brings you-"

My mother cut him off, grabbing his cheeks, squeezing, silencing him. My mother had never disciplined him before, never disciplined any of us before.

"Did you raise your hand to that girl?" She asked, her voice frighteningly quiet.

"What girl-"

"Don't play dumb with me," she interrupted. "You know the girl. Did you strike her?"

"She was only a whore, one of father's-"

"I never want to hear you say that again." Mother said still low. "I have never been so disappointed in you before. In any of you."

She let go of him and stood to full height. She wasn't our mother in that moment. No, she was the queen.