I gave my uncle a five minute head start before leaving the palace to go to my father's forge to grab my sword before heading to the temple. With taking a detour to grab my sword, it made it look like I was heading home instead.
My sword was made special by my father because it was made smaller than an adult blade and had been balanced correctly. A blacksmith had to know how to swing a sword to know if they were balanced correctly. It still bothered my father I was a left handed swordsman. It was seen as unnatural to carry a weapon in your left, but try as he might, I was clumsy with my right and he eventually gave up.
I took a few practice swings with my sword almost in sync with the lightening before sprinting off as best as I could towards the temple. The city was deathly quiet for all that was happening. The ground was more soggy than before, but I pressed on. I had to know for myself if Omand was alright.
It wasn't till half way up the steps, I could hear the impeding battle at the top of the stairs in the temple creating quite a commotion.
The sound of swords clashing rang out over the booms of rolling thunder. As I neared the top of the steps, I realized the rock face was slick with more than just rain water. Blood. A lot of it from what I saw.
Fear welled up inside me I walked on. To hear anyone scream all the way down at the ground meant he had been close to the front of the temple. I pulled my hood back up to hide my features as I plummeted forward into the dim torchlight. I rested m sword on my side as I strained both my ears and my eyes to understand what troubles lay ahead.
Up head towards the center of the room where most ceremonial blood sacrifices occurred, there was a crumpled figure on the floor. I ran forward my footsteps echoing through the whole main dorm.
I pray it wasn't Omand. As I came close, I took a torch before entering the ceremonial area to see better. When the light touched his face, I pulled the hood back to see the newly shaven bald heard of Omand. I came to my knees and cried. If only I could have done something- anything different.
"Omand," I whispered.
He was laying in a pool of blood. I knew then I was too late.
"I'm sorry," I whispered. "I'm so sorry."
I could hear the clashing of swords draw to an abrupt end, but I didn't care. My only friend who had been like brother to me was gone. Torches illuminated in the hallway to the right and grew closer.
"Take these traitors to the dungeon to be dealt with tomorrow," came the voice of Hassan. "I need to fetch the king's physician to get last rights done for the fallen."
The rest of the guards grabbed the prisoners, but I saw Hassan stay behind. He walked over to me once everyone had left and cursed loudly once he realized it was me.
"Jaspen," he growled. "I told you to go home."
I wiped the tears from my eyes and stood unable to look away from the dead form of Omand. I felt Hassan grab my shoulder.
"Come on," he said gently.
I'd ever heard such a tone with him before. Hassan grabbed me by the wrist when I was still unable to look away. I followed numbly.
"I warned you death and murder were not a sight for a young boy to see," he said thickly. "Death, war, and blood are all for adults."
"I had to know for myself," I mumbled. "Omand was like a brother to me."
Hassan said no more as he walked me back to my hut.