Brother Against Brother

The stench of goblin blood still clung to the air, a cloying, metallic perfume that made my stomach churn. Roric lay still, a sight that carved a hole straight through my chest. Beside him, Keal, his face a mask of chilling triumph, turned his dagger, still slick with Roric’s lifeblood, towards us. Lyra gasped, a small, broken sound, and I saw Bowen’s jaw clench, his knuckles white where he gripped the handle of his axe.

"You… you monster," Bowen choked out, his voice rough with disbelief and a rising fury that I recognized all too well. It was the same sound he made when Roric had accidentally broken my favorite wooden sword as a child, only this time, it was laced with a far deadlier intent.

Keal’s lips curved into a smile that didn't reach his eyes. “Monster?” he echoed, his voice unnervingly calm. “Perhaps. But Roric was a fool. He let his past make him weak. He let *you* make him complacent.” He gestured vaguely towards me, then back to the fallen warrior. “He deserved it. For failing me. For failing my family.”