The Roar of Andora: Book One

Chapter Twelve: Aaron's Despair; Four Years Later-*10/15/2018 update*

"Aaron! Aaron!" Prince Adonis the II, now King Adonis the II, hollered for the seventeen year old prince. "You fool! Aaron!" Adonis grabbed Aaron back by his coat and smacked him.

"Good!" Aaron shouted in his father's face. "Hit me again!"

"Oh!" Adonis twisted his face askew. "Don't talk like that!"

"Hit me!"

"Shut the fuck up!" Adonis blasted.

"I am going to kill him," Aaron said and then his father grabbed him by both sleeves, gripping him with all his might, and stared deep into his son's eyes.

"Prince Aaron Evershield is going to go out and kill a drunk on the street? Do you want that, boy? Do you think that's a good look? You're going to put blood on your hands and take someone's life because of what they said? Tell me. Tell me!"

"SHUT UP!"

Adonis lifted his arm and struck his son. Knocking him to the ground. Aaron got on his feet and rushed his father. Adonis swept Aaron back down to the ground.

"Fuck," the boy began to weep. "Fuck dad!" Trembling, the tears broke through. The harsh Nôrsyleus wind whipped through the bare branches outside, evoking their hollow high-pitched scream. "D—Dad," Aaron barely managed to say through his sobbing. "Th—They said, 'glad that old fucking man died,' " Aaron slammed his fist against the ground. " 'Glad that old fucking man died.' I want to kill them! I want to kill them all!" Aaron pulled himself up and grabbed his sheathed sword. Pulling open the door to the castle grounds, a blast of snow whipped his face. The wind slammed the door shut. The impact produced a deadened echo.

"Fuck." Aaron lost all of his adrenaline and collapsed back down to the ground. Sobbing quietly he said, "H—How could they say that? I want to murder them. I really do. But I know that's wrong. I know I shouldn't want to kill someone."

Adonis kneeled next to his son, placed his thick hand on the boy's shoulder, delivering a gentle besiegement through his touch and said, "It's okay, son. I would want to kill them too." Aaron looked up, shocked at his father's words. His crying stopped. "But is it worth it? Taking a life—boy—it's not so easy. To draw a blade and to feel the tearing open of flesh, to have to face your enemy and watch Life escape him. To steal a son from his mother. A husband from his wife. A father from his children. That's a responsibility. Tell me," Adonis raised his voice "TELL ME SON," and then retreated back to gentleness, "Could you do that?"

Aaron did not answer.

"I need you to be strong right now, son." Adonis wrapped his arms around his child. "We've all been bumped up a level. You're responsible now. You've taken my old seat—you're Prince Evershield now. There will be other days to fight. Believe me. And when you're fighting for the honour of our nation—the burden that comes with taking a life will be an easier one to bear. Drunks on the street? Let it go. Believe it or not, you'll be fighting to protect them and their sons."

"D—Dad," Aaron wiped the loitering tears from under his eyes. "Have—Have you taken a man's life?"

"More times than I am proud to admit." Adonis looked out at the blizzard beyond the window. "Through my sword I've left children orphans and wives widows. That's the price of war." Adonis then rose to his feet, appearing taller in his son's eyes than ever before. The former Prince (as of that very same night), now King, took his son's blade by the hilt. Losing his thoughts to the weapon that through serving death allowed them to keep living. "Get up."