Threads of Fate

Chapter 67 ~ The Madness that Follows

    Morning dawned with a gray sky and heavy mist as Azael and Gaelen made their way back to camp from scouting the foothills ahead. They had risen well before the sun was up to do so, although technically it should've been Gaelen alone. Azael had offered to join him when he woke and saw the male preparing to leave.

    Not that it hadn't been difficult to draw himself away from Tissaia's sleeping figure, but he knew it wasn't wise for anyone to go off on their own, no matter how capable they were, and he wanted the Cahirim warriors to be well rested for the fight ahead.

    The mist had begun just before sunrise and now, Azael's hair hung wet with it while grass glistened beneath his boots. He smoothed hair back from his face before letting his newly scarred hand fall to grip Orilight's warm hilt. Raxys was sheathed at his back for a change, as he wanted to carry both weapons with ease and not have them bulking at his hips.

    Gaelen's dark brown gaze had followed his movement, Azael noticed when he glanced at the male. Whether he was looking at the sword or his hand, he didn't know, but he wasn't left curious for long. "Your father was furious when he found out the sword was gone," Gaelen said.

    "He went so far as calling you a thief and threatening to punish you as such before one of the counselors reminded him that you have as much claim to the sword as he does. Even more so now, it would seem. He won't be pleased that the sword glows for you."

    "My father is rarely pleased," Azael replied. "But...is it true that he went even more mad?"

    Gaelen dipped his chin. "He began lashing out at everyone. The counselors, the gods, the Queen, you... He smashed out one of the stained glass windows of Oriana in the palace sanctum, cursing her as he did so. Lord Roshan had him cloistered in his chambers after that, and he began to take over most of the court proceedings. No one else even tried."

    "They just allowed him to imprison my father?" Azael spat, his fist tightening around Orilight's hilt.

    "They believed it was for his own safety, and frankly, I believe that too. I was guarding the King for a time before I was dispatched to track you down. Sometimes he is calm and simply moves about the room, demanding something to keep himself occupied with, but there were times when he lost it all over again."

    "He destroyed so many things that the servants finally cleared his room of anything breakable, even the lighter furniture, and we shielded his windows and the balcony doors so he couldn't break them open."

    Azael lowered his gaze, guilt sweeping through him. His father had never been a truly stable male, but if he had been the one to push Mavron over the edge and drive him to insanity...

    How could he return to Arcan and all but overthrow the male now? It could be his final breaking point. But if Mavron was so far gone, how could he allow him to continue dragging his kingdom into ruin? Azael massaged his temples with a weary sigh.

    "It's not your fault," Gaelen added. "According to many of the older counselors, your father always had such a temper as a child, and was prone to moments of derangement."

    "Do you think he can come back from this?" Azael asked.

    "In a sense, yes, but I don't believe the counselors will ever respect or trust him again." Gaelen cast him a critical glance. "What do you intend to do when we return to Arcan?"

    "What I must, for Asterria's sake," he answered vaguely. Already, he was beginning to understand what that would have to be. He only hoped he could be strong enough to deliver such a blow to his father, and wise enough to convince the counselors to accept him.