A Bloody Reign

Magic

The hall was emptied now, save the queen, Aldor, and a handful of his best soldiers. And of course their prisoner. The guards had their hands on their weapons should the captive try anything. The queen eyed her brother in shock and terror. Despite the hostility directed at him, the former member of the royal family stood smiling widely. He rocked back and forth on his heels, his eyes never leaving his sister.

“How..?” the queen trailed off, trying to wrap her head around the fact that her elder brother stood before her.

“How am I not dead?” he smirked when she flinched at the word. “Well, dear sister, when Father went mad and sent his knights after me, they left me wounded. Mortally so. Or... so they assumed. But a woman came across me as I lay dying and took me in. Healed me. Good as new.” His hazel-green eyes flashed as if there was more to his words. But the queen did not dwell on the thought. There was so much more that needed her attention first.

“What do you mean, Father sent men after you? He was ill, yes. But the men said you had perished in a border skirmish.”

“Do not act so innocent, Sister, it ill becomes a woman of your position,” he scoffed. “You would not have reacted the way you did if you didn't think that our dear father hadn't had a hand in my demise. You were always his favorite. He wanted the throne for you since you were born. He despised me. You knew that he had me killed so you could take his place.” His voice grew cold and harsh. Aldor's hand gripped the hilt of his sword tighter, a scowl on his face. The queen paled with each word. “You know I speak the truth, Lyra.” At the sound of her name, the queen's expression turned to stone. The look of the frightened girl that she had had since laying eyes on her brother vanished behind the look of a cold, hardened queen. Her brother's eyes flared, seeing the change in his sibling.

“You know a lot for having been dead for three years,” she snapped at him. His grin returned.

“Oh, dear sweet sister, do you honestly think I haven't kept close watch over you since Father's death? I have spies in the castle, the town. People who are still loyal to the rightful heir to the throne, not the queen who won it through my blood.”

Aldor cursed and drew his blade, the tip of it whipping through the air toward the boy's throat. But before it could its mark, the blade stopped dead in the air. Aldor blinked before being thrown back by an invisible force. The knights shouted in astonishment. Lyra grasped the dagger at her upper arm, stumbling back as her feet tangled with her gown. Aldor stood from where he had fallen, glaring at the once future king, who had not moved from where he stood, his hands still tied behind his back. He smirked at the captain.

“What have you done, Brother?” shrieked the queen.

“Just a little magic, Sister.” he smiled, shrugging. Aldor cursed again.

“Magic?! You know Father's law against witchcraft!”

“As I said before, Father never liked me much and I was never one to follow the rules.”

“Aldor, take him to the dungeons. I want a guard at his door night and day.” Lyra paced in front of her throne, her eyes darting around the room as if she was afraid that magic would ooze from the walls and consume her. Her brother smiled as the guards led him away.

“If you think some stone will hold me captive you are wrong, dear sister. I will raze this castle to the ground. You will pay for Father's sins.”

A chill ran over Lyra as the oak doors closed with a bang, leaving her alone with her brother's words.