"You walk a dangerous path your highness" the stoic steward said. Just like he had earlier.

I tilted my head towards the empty sky, caressing the blade on my lap, it was a special blade but at the end of the day it was useless. I let out a deep sigh and turned to face the steward—he had no name, since when I had met him he had been the stoic steward. He was born of me, my first born. I hope he finds his peace after me.

"This is the only way my dear steward. I am done watching my children tear each other apart." I said, my voice barely making a dent in the silence that was my home. The blade gleamed against my hand, I was withering, and my resolve wavering.

"You can protect them, set it right through a miracle." He said in his distinctive monotone.

"Not this time my dear steward. Everything comes to an end." I said rising, or collapsing, it didn't matter here. There were no laws here, just me and my conscience and of course my steward.

"Your highness send a loyal warrior as your emissary." He said.

"We need heroes my dear steward not warriors not great leaders, we need true heroes." I said. There were no emotions to our voices, I might even say we were incapable, but my children weren't, they would win this, they would save themselves.

It was time.

I raised the ancient sword, made not of metal or magic but simply nothing. Like me, like my steward.

"But your highness, this will be your end" he said stoically as always.

"Then so be it, the end always holds the power to spark a new beginning."

"But your highness-" he began

I raised the blade grimacing as the last of my power ebbed away into the void.