"Alaric." Came Tanon's voice, booming across the field as Alaric was forced to his knees, the wet grass soaking his legs.
"You are hereby eviscerated from the royal family, your namesake stripped of you. You are now no more than a nameless defect of the clan." His elder brother spoke. "I love you, brother. And I am truly pained that it has come to this."
Alaric's eyes were trained onto a single butterfly at the center of the field between his brothers and himself. The insect's wings were a dazzling arctic blue, the light of dawn making it almost seem like it was glowing. It's wings slowly cluttered up and down as it cling to a flower that rose up above the blades of grass.
Ahead of the butterfly, Alaric saw his brother out a foot forward, walking towards him. He looked up and Tanon now, his cold eyes locked with his elder brother's. Tanon stopped before Alaric, staring down at him sadly, before he himself crouched down, placing a hand on his shoulder.
"I have become the new king." He said, squeezing Alaric's shoulder. "I cannot bring myself to end your life, dear little brother. And thus.."
Tanon stood, turning away from Alaric and peering down at the butterfly. For a moment he was silent, the light of the new day bringing pained shadows down over his expression. And then his foot came down on the butterfly, crushing it.
"You are hereby banished from the Mortadire Clan."
Something rose inside Alaric at that moment. It was like fireworks were exploding in his chest.. but not in the beautiful brilliant way you'd think, it was more like explosions that tore at his heart and scorched his lungs, making it hard to breath.
A gentle breeze laid across the field, kissing the Alaric's face. He felt a shiver run through his entire frame, and then, to his own surprise, he felt a tear well up in his eye before it fell away, drifting down his cheek before descending down to the earth. And then it faded. He was numb again. He was cold. He was alone.
"Take him." Tanon spoke softly. "Out of my sight, throw him out of the gates."
"Yes, lord." Both guards spoke unanimously, bending down and violently lifting Alaric off of his feet.
As he was dragged away, Alaric felt something in his chest. It was like a pull, tugging downwards, pulling his heart into his stomach and sending waves of depression through his mind. He felt so wrong now within his own body. He felt like a corpse, nothing but a puppet pulled by the strings of cruel fate.
But then he set his jaw. His eyes went hard and he felt a hot flame grow in his heart. He suddenly dug his heels into the soil, stopping the guards.
"Hey, move!" One of them growled.
"Brother." Alaric said, his voice was cold now. He didn't have to look back to know Tanon was watching him. "I shall never forgive you for this, the shadows you've sown into into this place, into these people, they will be unwound, I will tear the cloth over their eyes, and you shall be hung by the ropes you've crafted of your own lies."
For a moment Tanon was silent, but as Alaric let the guards continue to take him away, he heard his brother breath in, as though he were to speak, but Alaric was already gone. He didn't want to hear his brother's words, he no longer held any love for his own clan. All he'd stood for had been destroyed, crumbling down like a castle of sand, so hard to build up, yet so easy to destroy. All his ideals and values now crashed down on him, betraying him. In the end, he was no more than one of the many strings sown into the fate of the world, and now his thread was being pulled from the cloth, torn away from everything he had known.
And now, as the chains about his wrists were undone and he was thrown to the ground outside the gates of the Clan, his string was being resown into a new place, marking the beginning of a new fate. Soon, the cloth of the world would be dyed a deep red.
Alaric stood to his feet, turning to face the gates behind him. He could see, from the corner of his eyes, the archers who now trained their bows on him from above.
"Alaric." Came the voice of Kelden, who came up behind the guards.
"Brother." Alaric spoke. "What is it you want with me? I'm exiled, do you not hate me?"
"Honestly, I am in doubt that you are the real culprit.. but for now.. there is no answer but this." Kelden spoke. "A must apologize for this. Do not hold this against Tanon, he is but confused and overwhelmed."
"I shall hold it against him, I hold this against the name of Mortadire, which I denounce." Alaric said coldly.
"Of course.. I do not know what I would have expected. Here. The path you choose, as of now, is your own. You are no longer a member of this family. Now go hence, and do not return." Kelden held out Alaric's wakizashi.
Stepping forward, he took the sheathed blade from Kelden. He nodded slightly, then turned on his heel, facing the world that stretched on before him.
"I leave you with these words." Kelden spoke, turning his back on Alaric. "Remember our father's warning. This world is drowning in hatred and overflowing with blood. Do not walk heedlessly, Alaric."
Alaric knew this truth. He knew, after seeing the corpse of his own father, that the world was cruel. That it was drenched in conflict and flowing crimson. It was the way of mankind to take part in conflict. Bloodshed was simply human instinct.
The land before Alaric was rough and seemed to go on forever. The road led on through the fields to the forest, which stretched on further before, on the horizon, the mountains would jut up from the earth.
Alaric knew what he was to do. He knew where he was to go. He would go to the Sarua Clan.. and join them. He would use them, he would bring on a war. For now he finally understood. His father was right. Sometimes the only reason you need to bring on a war, is purely hatred.
It would not be difficult to convince them of war, he thought as he strode down the road, archers still aiming for his head. After all, his brother, whether he was innocent or not, intended to bring about a war with Sarua. With Mortadire's power, it would most likely be easy for them to win.. but.. if Alaric joined Sarua and gave them all the knowledge they needed, it would not be difficult in any way to bring on the downfall of the Mortadire Clan.
Then, at that moment, Alaric heard the loud snap of a bowstring and the screaming whistle of an arrow rushing at him. He leaned low and dashed aside, the bow deftly thudding into the ground beside his foot. He looked back at the border wall. Atop it, the two archers from before trained their bows on him. One of them was knocking another arrow into the string, while he other looses his.
Again, the snap of a bowstring came as the arrow whistled towards him. Alaric began to run for the cover of the forest. An arrow sank into the grass a couple feet behind him as he sprinted for the dim forest, the light of dawn casting his stretched shadow out from his feet, running with him. Every time his foot met with his shadow, a jolt ran through his body, the exhilaration of being in danger.. he had never feared for his life before. But now, as he was being shot at, he felt adrenaline flow in his veins. And he loved it.
Another snap came, the whistle of an arrow shooting for him. He was too far out of range now, having made it to the edge of the woods. The arrow sank into the soil a ways off as he disappeared behind the winding maze of trees.
Breathing heavily, he stopped, finally out of danger. What had brought that about? Why had they shot at him? He had done nothing to provoke them, so why? Was it.. simply because they hated him?
He leaned back against a tree, staring up through the foliage as the sunlight shone through the leaves above his head, casting a green glow over him.
His world had now been flipped on its head. And there was no going back. He no longer have a damn who his father's killer was. The only thing he arrived for, was the downfall of Mortadire, not just the Clan itself, but also the royal family. He would erase it from this world, cutting its fate short. And when the time came, he would destroy the last light of the Mortadire family… by taking his own life.