The War for Eventyr

21 | Had To Do

A booming voice filled his ears. Rough and deep. Burning, but cold. "Well done, my son."

A young tod stood before his father's pedestal. His fur was the color of flame. There was meat on his bones. His legs were thick and muscled, and his chin stained with blood.

Colborn hardly recognized his brother. Dread rolled in his belly as a white-furred kit fell from Jakob's jaws.

"Thank you, Jarl," he said. His voice had lost its youthful pitch. Gone was the tongue of an innocent kit, replaced by one scorched with fire.

The roar of the monstrous crowd rang out. Countless Flameborn filled the space around them, praising his deeds like they had once cheered for Colborn.

"You have become a mighty Kriger," their father continued. "You have made me proud."

Jakob dipped his muzzle. He closed his eyes. Colborn expected tears to roll down his cheeks as his brother listened to the words he never got to hear––but those tears didn't come. His father's pride was never truly something Jakob yearned to have, because it came with a price.

He was living Colborn's life. One filled with hate and violence. Heartless killing.

"There's still one more trial." All eyes in the crowd were drawn to the Jarl. A glint of malice shone in his eyes. "You must kill your brother."

Panic took hold of Colborn with stinging claws. His gaze darted around the clearing, wondering if they knew he was really there. He tried to back away. He had to escape. But then Jakob turned, and their eyes met.

A roaring fire fueled the snarl in his throat. Colborn swallowed as his small, innocent brother stalked toward him. Maybe this was his chance to make things right.

He ran to Jakob, pressing his muzzle to him and allowing his own tears to fall.

"I'm so sorry, Jakob," he whispered. "I never should've let you stay. I'm sorry––"

A searing pain sparked in his cheek. He stumbled back, feeling the warm trickle of blood on his fur. His brows furrowed as he looked at Jakob, who'd tore into his face with silent fangs. His brother licked the blood from his chops and prowled closer.

"Your apologies mean nothing." The words were flat and emotionless, even more convincing than the show of hatred Colborn used to put on in front of the skulk. It seemed real. "You abandoned me, brother. You left me to take your place. To become a monster."

Colborn shook his head. That wasn't right. He never abandoned Jakob––he begged him to come too. To run away with him. To leave their responsibilities behind.

"No, Jakob," he said firmly, risking more pain to approach his brother. He touched his nose to his. "I love you. You have to believe that."

Colborn was shoved back again. This time, he couldn't get up. His brother's weight had doubled since the last time he'd seen him, and he pinned down the thinning Colborn without any resistance. Jakob glared into his eyes with a hollow look of pure, unadulterated destruction.

"I hate you."

Fangs dug into his throat, choking Colborn's scream before he could utter it. His vision grew blurry, stained with red. And then, as a wave of pain washed over him, his mind went dark.

His eyes snapped open. Colborn jerked himself to his paws and scanned his surroundings. He was back in the Rogue Territory, laying in the moonlight outside of Runa's den. There was no monster of a brother trying to kill him. That had all been a dream.

A nightmare that could all too easily be reality.

"Can't sleep?" A soothing voice pierced the silent air. Padding footfalls approached. The vixen sat down beside him, following his worried gaze to the horizon.