Where Light Dies

35. The March of Death

"How do you know it was him? We don't even know his face clearly."

"It was the last thing she ever saw."

-- Raziel J'raad -- The Drydocks, Outskirts -- 2017 --

He remembered the pain that tore through her shoulders as she screamed, the first thing that he felt as his mind linked with hers.

It had driven his senses cold with fear, and for a moment, he saw through her eyes the gaze of a killer.

In an instant, anger turned to hatred.

He swore to the gods of the old that he would have the man's head, serve it in a pool of his blood if he had to.

But the moment he felt the ground beneath him move, panic seized his heart. Stone ground against wood as the pile of cement screeched towards the end of the pier. He could feel her legs go limb as it dangled from what seemed to be the edge of the world. Tears bit at the corners of his eyes as he looked at the waves crashing into the wooden pillars in the abyss below.

The prince remembered watching from the side lines as Liara took control, bellowing at the traitor with pure hatred. His conscience ached at the memory of her plain yet elegant features washing over his eyes that day. Her soft scarlet eyes, her silky black hair, her strangely subtle smile. He remembered the roughness in her voice, the occasional stutter when she was shy, the way she used to gently slide that loose strand of hair over her ear when she spoke.

In that moment, Raziel realized the truth that he'd been hiding from himself since the day he met her.

He loved her.

"Any last words?" he heard the traitor ask her. For a fraction of a second, Raziel saw his face. Thick black hair that waved over as it slicked back, the murderous crimson eyes that stared at his beloved with rage. The faded scars that ran over his features, the light bend of his nose, the width of his jaw. Every single feature had been carved into the back of his mind, a figure that would haunt him in the years to come. Liara's consciousness faded into the background as his rose to the surface, seizing control of her body and soul.

He felt the traitor's gaze at him, but he didn't want to look back. An enormous building stood stranded in the coast, covered in vines from top to bottom. Why she decided to turn that way was beyond him at the moment. But now he understood. Raziel's eyes brimmed with tears as he saw the glimmering rays of the sun, slowly dipping below the horizon.

"I'm sorry I couldn't make it." Her last words echoed in his mind, fading to darkness as he saw her fall into the depths below.

"My Prince."

Raziel snapped back from his stupor, his mind reeling back into the present. He shivered in the sea's salty breeze as it kissed his skin, the fresh smell filling his lungs. Yet all he felt was hate. He cocked his head to the right, his gaze locking on to a building covered in vines and foliage. The sun's crimson rays showed no mercy, burning their skins as they stood at the pier.

"Are you sure this is where she..." Javier stopped midway as he gazed at the young prince.

"Yes. I saw it."

"If the traitor is as you described him, I believe in the scouts. They wouldn't dare to speak with you of this unless they were ready to bet their lives on it," he said, looking at their next king, Raziel J'raad.

Valhalla had just about enough with his delusional father.

Azael J'raad was a madman, a lunatic as described by most of his subjects who followed him out of pure fear. Yet no one rose against him. No one but the prince himself. The king's ability was confined to a space, and within that space, he was God. Raziel's power happened to reach beyond that of the king in terms of range, practically the only reason why he was still alive. The king held no love lost for his son, yet there was no denying that he was his future. Besides Raziel, no one knew the truth of the King's power, not even Javier. Any who chose to oppose him would be seen dumped at the royal courtyard a few days later, a result of a trial against Azael himself, close quarters combat to be precise. By evening they'd end up being fed to the darks at the city's outskirts, a term they came up with for the rabid beasts after hearing of them from the humans.