The Cursed Light

16

Roman stood in front of the dragon witch’s hut, adjusting his grip on his sword every so often. He knew that she was inside, probably working on some new spell.
    Whatever it was didn’t matter.
    “Dragon Witch! Come out, you wench!” he shouted,  his voice exuding more courage than he really had at that moment.
    There was some silence before the dragon witch stepped out. All things considered, she didn’t look like someone whom his brother had bludgeoned only days prior. He couldn’t help the rage that ignited in his chest when he saw her.
    “To what do I owe the displeasure, your highness.” The witch hissed out the title like it stung her.
    He refused to mention how he didn’t feel like the title fit him all too well after recent events, instead choosing to raise his sword.
    “Ah. The usual ‘daring prince saves his kingdom’ routine. I have to be attacking your kingdom for that to happen,” she drawled, making her way to head back inside the hut.
    “I have plenty of reasons to slay you where you stand. The first being that you made me forget the man I loved,” he snarled.
    At that, the dragon witch’s expression broke into a sneer. Roman hated how small that made him feel.
    She stalked closer to him, circling around him like she was sizing up a meal. He forced his hand to stay steady, to keep his sword up. His pulse was in his ears.
    “Awww, that’s cute. You think I’m to blame for all the hurt you caused,” she crooned.
    “Wh-what?” Roman stammered.
    “You honestly think any of the things you said were my doing? All I did was make you hate him, all I did was make you forget. Did you forget how to speak too? Or are you just trying to ignore-”
    “Shut up!”
He didn’t know when he had dropped his sword, he didn’t know when the dragon witch had started chanting a spell.
    Shaking hands dug into his hair as he yelled, long and agonizing. Because the witch was right. It was all his fault. Not just the biting remarks, not just the blind distrust, but he created the dragon witch, hadn’t he? He created her to fulfill some stupid hero complex he had built up. Because he was selfish, arrogant, useless and-
    “-man, Roman can you look at me?”
    Someone was talking to him. He had half a mind to think it was the dragon witch, but she would never talk to him like this, with any level of kindness or respect.
    Not that he deserved any in the first place.
    “Ro-ro, I know you’re dramatic but this is a little concerning.”
    There was only one person who ever called him Ro-ro.
    “Remus?” Roman distantly realized he had been crying.
    Great. More evidence that he was the weakest out of all of them.
    “Roman, what the hell are you doing near her house? Hasn’t she hurt you enough?” Remus asked, pulling Romans hands out of his hair. He couldn’t understand how his brother could even stand to be nice to him.
    Roman glanced around to see where the dragon witch had run off to, only to see her battered remains on the grassy ground. Despite his fury at her, he still felt nausea rise up in his throat at the gory scene in front of him.
    Remus tried to pull Roman away, but he resisted.
“No…” Roman mumbled.
    He felt Remus stiffen.
    “What?” There was a hint of concern in Remus’ tone.
    “She didn’t do anything. All of this was my fault,” he said, pulling his hands out of Remus’ grasp and setting them down by his sides.
    “I created her. She wouldn’t have hurt you- hurt us- if I hadn’t made her to be my personal punching bag.” His hands clenched tightly around the fabric of his tunic.
    “Yeah so? You didn’t have any control over what she did,” Remus sighed, summoning a jar of eyes and proceeding to crush them between his fingers idly.
    “And then what about the things I said to you? Or Janus? Or even Virgil? Yeah, she cursed me to hate you, but even Logan was nicer to you than I was! I hurt all of you, even Logan and Patton.” Tears were streaming down Roman’s face at this point, blurring his vision. “I’m surprised Virgil still wants to be married to me at this point.”
    “Brother mine, you are as dense as you are dramatic,” Remus drawled, flicking an eyeball in Roman’s direction.
    Roman shouted indignantly at the formaldehyde-soaked body part, but said nothing to contest the statement.
    “Let me ask you a question: what role do you play in Thomas’ mind?”
Remus’ expression was teasing, but there was something genuine behind his eyes, so Roman mumbled, “The Prince.”
“And what do princes do?” Remus asked, tossing the jar onto the ground and letting all of the fluids seep into the soil and kill any chance of any plants to continue growing there.
“They… they protect their people,” Roman sighed.
He’d done a swell job of that recently.
“So if she cursed you to hate us, then you did what you could to protect Logan and Patton from us when you thought we were a threat,” Remus concluded, looking extremely proud of himself.
As far as he could tell, Remus wasn’t lying. Then again, that wasn’t really Remus’ style. He was too straightforward.
Kind of like his fiance.
Rubbing at his eyes and flashing Remus a watery smile, Roman sighed.
“You and Logan were practically made for each other, you know that?” He smiled even wider when he saw Remus brighten up.
“Hell yeah I do! Plus the wedding is in a week!” Remus chittered, bouncing up and down with near childish excitement.
“I’m looking forward to it,” Roman said.
The guilt didn’t leave him, not completely. He didn’t think it ever would, but it was better than it was. With time, he would heal. They all would.