Bond Breakers

PART ONE - The Curse

Erya was hunched over his workspace when news of his worst nightmare reached his ears.

"The king is dying," Shakar, high priest of Aradia's smooth voice cut across his concentration.

He stilled, his fingers hovering over the spell he'd been working on for almost a year. So close...

"Your father is dying," the priest repeated without any trace of remorse in his oily voice.

Demur would have throttled him for his nonchalance, his lack of emotion for the incredible man whose rule had protected and provided for Aradia. But that was his older, stronger, bull-headed brother. He on the other hand just stared at the project he would never get to complete. The invention that could've — would've changed the world.

Maybe he could finish this one last task before the king spoke his last words. Before he died...

He picked up a scroll preparing to recite the words for the millionth time. Maybe this —

"Erya," the Priest hadn't left, "it will not matter if you finish it or not, one of your siblings will take up your work when —"

"Stop," he ordered cringing with anger or revulsion, he wasn't sure which. He dropped the delicate paper and whirled on Shakar.

However, the sneer on the High priest face was enough to make him go cold. Those slanted slitted eyes always brokering for an argument.

He swallowed his words. The priest's sneer went sour as if he knew a fight had evaded him.

"Where?" Erya ordered.

Shakur's eyes flashed. He was the cities highest clerical member, his position just below that of the king on the hierarchical pillar of Aradia. But Erya didn't care. He was about to watch his father die, and when he did, when his kings last breath disturbed the air with one last name he would die as well, and five of his siblings would go along with him.

Shakur eyed him shrewdly. Erya knew he was debating whether or not to answer. But Erya was a scholar, learned in the art of patience. Even at a time like this, then again, he was in no hurry to get to his death...

The priest must have realized as much. "He's in his chambers, your siblings are already with him."

There was a knowing look in Shakur's eyes, but Erya didn't bother with him. He had already wasted enough time. He had to be brave now. He knew Demur would be, ever the solider. He had probably rushed to his father's side. To his brothers and sisters.

Erya pushed passed the priest, he took controlled strides at first, but as soon as he was sure he was beyond Shakur he set into a sprint only slowing when he approached his father's chambers. The memory of all the times he had spent in this wing of the palace, sharing his ideas and inventions with the only man who could understand them, or watching his king share his prolific knowledge with his brothers and sisters in their gifted art brought tears to his eyes. Not only would his father perish, but so much light, love and laughter would follow. His brothers and sisters were each as responsible for making Aradia the great kingdom it was. Each lending their gifts to their people. And now...

He sped up hardly taking in the sights of the sprawling city from the palace's vantage. He didn't stop at the large wooden door that led to his father's rooms; he didn't think he'd find the courage to go on if he did.

They were all there. Six of his siblings crowded around his father's massive bed. He moved closer, nobody said anything, but as he squeezed into their rank, someone rubbed his shoulder, another tousled his hair. The youngest of them. The one who had lived the least — who would live the least.