Re:Creation Book 1: Allegiance

Twelve

The woman in the center of the judges stood up in response to Khel's determination, her dazzling silk dress catching the light of the torches' flames. "The accused has elected to fight," she announced. Her eyes fell on one of the knights circled around the edge of the room. "Sir Julius will be your opponent."

"Yes, my lady," the knight said with a bow. He stepped forward, drawing his sword as he did, and came to stand between Khel arms the judges. Wasting no time, he adopted an offensive stance, ready to strike when given the word.

"Hold on," Khel held up his hands, showing off the shackles that still bound him. "Can I at least get these taken off?"

The woman gave a sly smile in response. "I'm afraid I don't have the key."

"You bitch." Khel's curt reply came so abruptly that everyone in the room, even Lev, paused briefly.

"E-Excuse me?"

"You. Bitch." In the back of Khel's head, he could hear it again - the whispering. Along with it came a rapidly building pressure attacking his head.

Let it out. It's what they deserve.

Wait, where was it? The only times Khel ever heard the whispers were when that book was nearby, but no matter where he looked he couldn't see it. Where was it?

"How dare-"

"This isn't just his trial, is it?" Khel gestured towards Lev. "It's my execution. My actual execution." Hold on, Khel didn't say that. Well, he did say it, but he didn't mean to; he hadn't even thought it.

What are you waiting for? Kill them. Kill them all.

The woman glanced to the other judges before bringing her attention back to Khel. "It has become apparent that the longer you live, the more of a threat you pose. Not just to those within the Prison District, but to all of Taëlas - maybe even all of Aböl. Though unfortunate in circumstance, for the good of our land, you must be eliminated."

"So your words of letting me go free were all a lie, then," Lev accused. "What sort of sick, twisted joy could you possibly derive from this game of yours?"

"You take part in the murders of an entire royal family and many others," the woman sternly said, "then you wear their name as some sort of badge. And yet you call us twisted?"

The fury burns. Ease your pain. End them.

"I've already told you, I am Prince Lev of House Tyveren!"

The all too familiar and intense pressure building in Khel's head pummeled his skull. The pounding assault on his mind was a crippling force, powerful enough to cause him to reel in discomfort, sending him to his knees. His sight became blurred, his hearing dulled.

Good.

Great.

This throbbing torment that plagued him - it hurt so much more than usual, but for the first time, he welcomed it. This was what he needed. As much as he hated this power, this pain, this torture, he knew that it was the only way he could get Lev out. He had to get Lev out of this hell for damned souls. Lev needed to get out. Lev had to get back to Tamras.

Lev must live.

Out of the corner of his eye, Khel saw his friend kneel beside him. He could tell Lev was calling out to him, though he heard nothing but the unrelenting whispers, growing louder and louder.

Kill them.

Let the mark take you.

Give yourself over.