The Heart of Ice

Chapter 11

Killian

I was lucky enough to make it out of that battle with Hako alive, resulting in only a few scratches and bruises. Now, as I slump against my bedroom door, the thoughts of monsters serge around my head, raging hard enough for me to feel physical pain. I've never felt as dead as I do now, haunted. I'm a foreigner in my own body, wearing the face of someone meant to protect, to serve, but instead I only cause bloodshed. No matter where I go, someone dies. It's as if death himself has wrapped me in his arms, claiming me as his own.

"Death hasn't claimed you, boy. You are death. Why hasn't your destiny become clear to you?" Boreas questions, and I can feel the blood in my veins beginning to freeze. I refuse to accept this destiny the winter god is so fixed on giving me, for only I can control what I want. No one will decide for me, not now, not again. If I am to be death, if I am to bear the power of hell on my shoulders, I will do it on my own terms. I'll bring bastards to their knees and tyrants to their deaths. I want to be a savior, someone who helps the wounded and saves the innocent. This monster my god has created out of me shall die. I will be made new—I'm no monster.

"You fool! You will bring everyone to their deaths if you think for even a second you serve any other purpose than to kill. You are a beast, Killian Cahira. You will slaughter people to gain power, and you will rule the lands. The stars. You are meant for something far more greater than depressed king. You are my descendent, child. Killing is in your blood and bones, your destiny; again, you can't change destiny."

You may think that, but I can. Anyone can change their destiny if they want it badly enough, Davina said so. And I want it more than anything. I'm tired of looking over my shoulder every second of the day, waiting for the lucky assassin who will bring me to my ultimate, definite death. I'm tired of having have people look at me as if I'm some sort of nuisance. I'm tired of the killing and the blood, so much blood that I feel like I'm drowning in it. And I'm tired of always being tired—when I'm doing nothing to fix the problems I complain about, my god. Why can't there be more for me? Why must you be so cruel?

"I'm cruel because I know what awaits you, Killian. I knew your entire life before your birth began, I constructed it. I understand your hopes and your dreams, I do, but it's not meant for you. You will never have the normal life you ache for on the loneliest of nights. But I swear to you, you won't need it. When your future arrives, then you will understand."

I grip the knob on my door, pulling myself up and over to my bed. Blood spews from the cuts on my arms and torso, a gift given to me by the fire king himself. As if the pain from the cuts, my own mind, wasn't enough, I look to my side where my window resides, looking over the kingdom. I watch as my citizens flee their hometown all because I couldn't protect them. I could hardly protect myself, too. It's a peculiar feeling being the king of people far older than me, yet I'm supposed to protect them. If anything, my citizens are protecting me.

"It seems to me that you are upset, boy. We have ways of getting rid of these feelings. All you have to do is send for one of them, you know."

No. Gods, no. Please, don't make me do it again. I can't withstand the looks or feelings from my people again, especially now. I was attacked by the fire king today, Hako himself, Boreas. Is that not enough for you? I watched a boy, who spent his entire life training for a man who didn't care what happened to him, die today. I knew this boy once, almost like a friend to me. It hurt to watch him die the way he did, winter god, especially when I'm the one who led him to his death. It hurt watching him die, but it hurt even more knowing I couldn't do anything about it. I had to put people who hate me before him, just because I hear that's the destiny I'm supposed to fulfill. What is death anymore? The price to pay when you've done nothing wrong.