It’s always a very delicious moment when the bad guy realizes how much trouble he’s in.

Marcus’s mouth dropped open and attempted to move, as if he were trying to form words. The spear fell from his hand, completely forgotten in his bafflement. He tried to edge back from Alverd, who only stepped forward and matched his pace. The Sword of Evros gleamed sinisterly in the light, as if it were itself aware of the crimes committed by the First Prince and just as eager as Alverd to avenge them. Marcus began to stammer as things finally began to dawn on him.

“How… how did you get that? It should be locked in the vault… even I don’t know where the key to the vault was kept… h-how did you get your hands on our sacred sword?” He practically spat out that last part, still trying to deny the reality in front of him. Alicia placed her hands on her hips, condescension evident in her voice.

“Father always told me that he kept the key to the vault on his person,” Alicia said. “He told me that if he was ever to die before his time, to take the key and never let any of my siblings know. He told me that when I was thirteen years old. I never knew the significance of it until now. Our father never fully trusted our siblings, and he especially didn’t trust you, Marcus.”

Alicia fished the key from her pocket. The small gold trinket had taken on a new significance in light of recent events, and she gazed at it with a newfound reverence. “I think all along, Father realized that if tradition was upheld, it would perpetuate a cycle that would lead Ishmar to ruin. For generations reaching back farther than we can remember, Ishmar has held the Tournament. Each time, brothers and sisters fight each other for the right to rule our land. But each time, we grow a little weaker.”

She looked past the key, focusing on where Marcus now lay on the ground. “Because each time a new ruler takes the throne, he or she becomes more and more tainted by the legacy that comes with it. Only the ruthless take power in our country, and without compassion or understanding, we’ll destroy ourselves from within. We will fall to our own lust for power long before the mage lords of Algrustos and their armies cross our border and besiege the Castle of Brimstone.”

Alicia raised the key, lifting the small golden chain over her head. She fastened the key around her neck, and it settled over the leather armor covering her chest. “Father knew that I was his best chance to break the cycle. To forge new traditions. To lead our people to a better future. In this, you and I are the same, Marcus. We both want to do away with the traditions that were stifling Ishmar’s growth.” As she spoke, Alicia hefted her maul, bearing it with a new resolve that shone in her eyes. “But the similarities end there, Marcus. You want power only for yourself. Your path would drag us to ruin, and I won’t let you doom what’s left of our home.”

Alicia’s grip on her maul tightened. When she looked up, I noticed a familiar expression of anger in her eyes. But under that anger was more than just battle rage. There was a hunger for justice that gave righteous fire to her fury. Her eyes burned like an avenging archangel, and no longer did she seem small. She moved with purpose, each step accentuated by it, and she would not yield to any who stood in the way of her goal.

Marcus scrambled to his feet, incredulous. “Power? Power! You know absolutely nothing about power. I have power, sister! I’ve had power since the day I was born! I am the one who made all of this happen, and I will not surrender it to some latecomer simply because our delusional father decided to go soft in his waning years! It does not matter if you wield Evros! It wouldn’t matter if you had a legion of mages to back you up! This kingdom is mine! MINE!” Marcus yanked his sword from its scabbard and screamed. He made to charge, but stopped abruptly. His face turned from rage to confusion, then to fear. I was ready to taunt him when I realized that he wasn’t looking at me, but past me. Before I could look over my shoulder, Alicia brusquely grabbed my collar and yanked me aside.

I guess berserking gave the user heightened senses, because an arrow whizzed through the air. I hadn’t been able to detect it, because of the howling wind at our height. Alicia barely had enough time to pull me from harm’s way before the shaft shot through the space where my head had been. Had I still been there even a second more, I would have been stuck like a prize boar on a hunt. As I attempted to overcome a fit of shivers, she whirled around to face her attacker.

Deanna. She was carrying a bow, and she neatly fitted another arrow into place in one smooth motion, never taking her eyes off her half-sister. Behind her, I could see Deacon and Leila, who were flanking Eliza. Shannon was skulking near the back, a mace in her hand. Deanna moved closer, her hands steady, the bow shifting targets from Alicia to me. As the group moved closer, I could see that both Deacon and Leila were restraining Eliza. Deacon also had Eli’s rapier hanging from his belt. She was trying to struggle, but to no avail. As she approached, Deanna spoke.

“We heard everything. The Marevarian knight accused Marcus in the stable. Our distinguished elder brother ran for his life. He and the knight escaped on a dragon. When we attempted to confront our darling sister Eliza, she pulled her sword on us.” She turned to glower at Eliza. “She talked well enough after we disarmed her. And now, here you all are, plotting in our absence.” The remaining siblings moved up, fanning out, attempting to flank Alicia and me. I waved my staff at Deacon and Leila, who shirked away.

“It’s obvious that something must be done about this state of affairs, but I’m not the type to throw false accusations without proof to back them up. I don’t know how deep this plot goes, and I have no idea how many of you are in on it, which is why you’re going to throw down your weapons until we get this all sorted out.” She nodded her head at her sister. “You too, Alicia.”

Alicia protested. “What? Why should I? I’m the one who came to you to warn you about Marcus’ scheme! You can’t possibly believe that I would throw my lot in with Marcus, would you? I only wanted to help…” I could hear the sting of betrayal in her voice. The weight of so many back-stabbings were starting to wear on her. Deanna scoffed as she pointed her bow at Alicia.

“This is exactly what I’m talking about. You were content to live in your insipid little bubble your entire life. You knew someday that you’d have to kill us or be killed, and now that the moment is upon us; this very well could be a ploy of yours so you can triumph without spilling our blood? You sicken me, Alicia. I have no reason to acknowledge you. So last chance. Put down your weapon or this gets ugly.”

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

I couldn’t hold it in anymore. “So what happens then? Are we supposed to trust that you’re going to figure this all out? Why should I trust you lot, especially when you were the first to threaten us?” I flicked my eyes towards Deacon and Leila, who were still restraining Eliza. “You already have Eliza. Make her talk right now. And then you’ll see that there’s no need for any of this posturing.”

I noticed Shannon circling around to my left, her mace and gauntlet ready to go. Every second we wasted on this pointless exchange was giving them more time to put us in a bad spot. I felt cold sweat on my neck break out when I figured it out: they had no intention of letting us walk from this. They were just as angry about my little reveal as Marcus. “But I guess that doesn’t matter, huh? I guess your father was right about the lot of you after all. Fancy that.”

Deanna turned her bow on me again, and I became instantly mindful of the arrow pointed at my head.

“Don’t talk to us about worthiness, mage. Why should you have the right to use magic, and not us? We earned our strength. You had yours handed to you by Fate. But our father considers us unworthy?” Her grip began to shake, and the arrow twitched.

Deacon spoke up from behind her. “Our father was the one who wanted us to kill, fight, and slaughter those who were weaker than us. He betrayed us all!” I could hear his fist grinding his dragon tooth metal gauntlet, and a vein appeared on his forehead.

From beside him, Shannon pointed her mace at me. “We all proved our worth, while Alicia was still a child, unworthy of her proud heritage! We are Ishmarian! We did only what was expected of us!”

The four of them were moving now, with Deacon dragging the still-dazed Eliza along the ground. I knew what they were up to. They were trying to flank us, box us into a small area so they could gain a combat advantage. Thankfully, Alverd seemed to be aware of this, as he spaced himself away from me, trying to turn the situation into a face-off. But even if he could do it, we were still outnumbered.

Leila was the last to speak, and she chuckled. “But all this? It stays here. We of Ishmar speak with actions, not words. Everything Alicia has done flies in the face of our beliefs. As sweet as her words are, that’s all they are to our people. Words.” She pointed at me, with a familiar, haughty tone. “The fact that you are a mage is proof enough that you cannot be trusted. For my sister to protect you and the knight with the Rite of Reconciliation is evidence enough of her betrayal. Any true Ishmarian would have had your heads on pikes.”

Alverd grimaced as his eyes followed the siblings’ slow, deliberate attempts to fence us in. “Are your people truly so gullible? Do you really think you can pull the wool over their eyes after what happened today? That you brazenly killed your kin in clear violation of your most ancient laws?”

Shannon scoffed. “The people will believe whatever their new king or queen says. And besides, as the mage said, we have Eliza here. With enough torture she’ll sing like a bird about how she and Marcus orchestrated this whole fiasco with Alicia’s help. The truth of the matter is, the fewer rivals we have, the easier it will be to take the throne.” As if agreeing with their sister, Deacon, Leila, and Shannon all grinned sinisterly.

So that was what it boiled down to. At the end of the day, all these fools saw was an opportunity to eliminate some of the competition. They had no love or respect for each other, even as blood related siblings. I was filled with an intense loathing. People like them made me glad I was an only child.

In typical Ishmarian fashion, the siblings were the ones to get the fight started.

Deacon roughly pushed Eliza to the ground, slamming her face against the floor. He then proceeded to draw a humongous sword from the scabbard on his back. It was too long to be a normal sword; my guess was that it was a claymore or something. He grunted brutishly and stepped on Eliza’s back for good measure as he stepped forth. He gripped the claymore with both hands and assumed a defensive posture about two feet in front of Deanna, which made him closer to me but no more or less of a threat.

Leila unsheathed a small hatchet from some holster on her leg, and a short sword from a similar holster on her opposite leg. She twirled them twice, making a good deal of ceremony out of her flourishes, probably in some vain attempt to intimidate me. Nevertheless, if she had opted for such light weaponry, she must have done so in order to emphasize speed over power, so I would have to keep a wary eye on her. She started pacing next to Deanna, her weapons continuing to casually spin in her hands.

Shannon moved from the back and held her mace behind her, her other arm held forward in some kind of warding gesture. She had a crude, angled deflection plate built into the gauntlet on her left arm; it was too light to be made for dealing with physical weaponry. It must have been made to deflect magic spells like fireballs or lightning bolts, which carried too much force to stop directly. I guess Ishmar had been at war long enough to know that the best way to fight such magic was to avoid its true power by any means necessary. I immediately bumped Shannon to the top of my “to incapacitate” list.

Finally, that left Deanna. Aside from the absurdly tall bow she was currently wielding, she had a simple sword in a scabbard at her side. I didn’t see any other weaponry, but if she planned to back up her siblings with that bow…that would be problematic. The last thing I needed was for her to stick me like a pincushion while I was dealing with her kin. I’d need some kind of shock-and-awe tactic to get that bow out of her hands.

Conflict was written all over Alicia’s face. What Deanna had said was true; it was beyond naive to think that the siblings would have some strong relationship when they’d been told since birth that one day, they’d have to kill each other in order to take the throne. But the way Alicia looked, she seemed as though something had died in her, like she had given up. Her hands were shaking, and her lips were quivering.

But then her shaking ceased. She bent her knees and took hold of her maul’s grip with both hands. “I tried so hard to care about you all, even when you treated me like the useless runt of the litter. But I see now that you’ll never change. You’ll always be warmongers. You’ll always be concerned with glory in battle instead of leading your people. And that’s why, as a princess of Ishmar, it’s my responsibility to serve my country the only way I know how… by stopping the entire lot of you.”

I had to admit, Alicia’s resolve was inspiring. She was finally displaying qualities worthy of a princess. Beneath that extremely rough and unpolished exterior was a heart of gold. I thought back on my dilemma, deciding whether to kill her siblings or not. I decided to fulfill the oath I’d made. I owed it to this girl. She had finally made her decision, and I was proud to back her. I stood at Alicia’s side as her siblings prowled forward.

I sized up the four siblings as they crept towards us. Alicia called out over her shoulder to Alverd. “I have to do this for myself. Make sure Marcus is occupied. Kuro, you’re with me. If my siblings will not see reason, then we’ll just have to beat it into them.” Alverd nodded, not even turning to face me.

I tried to clear my mind of my anguish and focus it into my magic. I reached within, to the heat generated within my own body, and conjured a ball of fire in my hand, its flame churning in the air, awaiting my desire to throw it at someone’s deserving head. The four siblings shrank away in reaction to this, andeven Deanna’s steady hands faltered. I took some confidence in that, and put on a ghoulish smile.

“So…how many of you were taught not to play with fire?”