𝐒𝐮𝐜𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐭 𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐬

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐳𝐞

Power. 

To what extent can one go to attain power? To prove that they’re superior to everyone else. To evince that they can hunt and kill another with the bare minimum effort. 

The kingdom of Avon was based on the principle of power. The most powerful thrived under the king's 'merciful’ grace, while the ones with little to no powers did low-paying jobs or stole to survive. The difference between the thriving and survival of these people was reflected in the pomp and splendour of the royal castle and the houses of ministers or merchants approved by the royalty. While these people feasted on the riches, a majority of Avon’s population struggled to survive. Alas! The royalty would never notice the pitiful condition of its subjects, and they’d continue to live a low life. 

After all, the prince who cared about the subjects wasn't the heir to the throne. He was merely trained to be the future king’s right-hand man, army chief, and special advisor. The King of Avon, Alastor Damaris, left no stone unturned to sow the bitter seed of despise for each other in the hearts of his sons. Yet, their love succeeded in every test, and anyone could tell that they’d continue to be brothers and that no titles could distance them. 

However, the distancing had begun when the subjects chose Jin Damaris, the younger son of Alastor, for the deadly trial. The Maze Trial, also called The Power Maze, was the prime example of survival of the fittest. Caspian Damaris, the future king, had always dreamt of showcasing just how powerful he was and just how much damage he could cause using his powers to control the wind. But the subjects chose Jin, the kingdom chose Jin to compete. At last, Alastor succeeded in planting the bitter seed of envy, if not hatred, within the brothers. 

I felt harsh pain creep up my calf. I was sure I was bleeding. My brother's diamond-studded ring sliced through my skin and pierced it. For the first time in my life of twenty-two years, I saw a different emotion in his eyes. He wasn't the one wielding the power of fire, yet his eyes reflected flame. And I could feel myself burning under his gaze. Even when we would be fighting in the ring, his green eyes were always warm, so similar yet so different from my father’s. But today, I saw the same burning, cold contempt in his eyes for me. The same one my father always held towards me. Why would Caspian hate me? 

He spared no time and lunged at me again. This time, his pale fist met my bare torso, hitting right above my pants’ waistline. I stumbled backwards, but I knew that I couldn't lose. I always won against Caspian, and even if his eyes held my father today, the man who made me strong, the man who made me weak, I wouldn't fall weak. 

I pretended to have fallen down, and when he bent down to look at me, I kneed him in the abdomen, causing him to fall back. I climbed over him, threw a punch at his face, and watched blood trickle down his nose. 

“What the hell is wrong with you, Caspian?” I allowed myself to fall weak for once. I allowed myself to try and find my brother in the face of my ruin, in the eyes of my father. And that was a mistake.