When I opened my eyes to glare at him, dread settled into my bones as I found a men nearly identical to the men who brought my ruin to me in the name of a fake love, and I instantly knew who he was, the current Second Imperial Prince, Nevil youngest brother. Hah, no wonder his voice made me feel something, he's from that fucking bloodline, the son and the brother of the men who took all that I once had, who stole my birthright and broke me beyond repair. I have only heard his name before, but I had never seen him.
I don't need to, to know that he's his brother, he look just like him. Nearly identical, but not quite there yet, his skin is more tanned, his hair is blacker, he is taller, his jawline is sharper, and those eyes… those damned silver eyes are brighter and deadlier than Nevil could ever dream of being, despite his despicable actions. But the uncanny resemblance took me so off guard that the haunting memory of the last time I saw Nevil and what he did to, made me unconsciously bring my left hand to my lower belly where a curved scar now adorns my skin, the cruelest one.
He seemed to also be frozen, glaring at me.
What are the chances of me coming here when a Velothren is here?
Do Moros loves his youngest son? Does Nevil loves his baby brother? If I murder him, would they hurt a bit like I am? Will they feel a bit of the pain that I feel 24 hours a day per 7 days a week? Will they break a bit like they broke me?
"Marvor Velothren," I hissed, nostrils flaring with the rage in my veins.
"Why did you fucking do that?" He snapped.
"I didn't do nothing your father and brother haven't done to me before!" Something shifted in his eyes as I spit the words. "A little throat slicing can't kill me, my magic may be dormant, but this is what real power feels like. I doubt you or any of your scrupulous family members could ever grasp the gravity of it."
He clenched his jaw hard, "Big talk for my brother's old whore."
I was on my feet right away, daggers in both hands, rage boiling my soul, on the tip of my toes, I pressed both daggers on his neck in a cross, "Say it again if you dare, Marvor Velothren, but remember that your bloodline is mortal."
"Big, talk, for, my," he began to actually repeat it, until she stopped him.
"No fighting the chosen ones, Velothren!" Master Gléowyn Celebrimbor yelled, using some kind of magic to propell me six steps back. "If you want to go at each other's throats, do it after she passes the bridge. If she does. And you," she turned her menacing glare to me and I would have flinched had I cared about the danger she could or could not represent, "should remember that you have things to lose if you mess with the 2nd Imperial Prince, Grace Madalverel. If you kill him, those you still have will die."
That certainly made me flinch.
"A disgrace that she brought to her own family," he snorted, poking right where it fucking hurts and I couldn't help gripping the blades of the daggers with my palms, cutting my skin and drawing blood, needing the pain to avoid myself from having a breakdown in front of him. "If you didn't want to get them all killed like you did, you shouldn't have been breaking into Arkhane at 15 years to seduce and fuck and enemy. You killed your parents, you handed my father the weapon, so, don't be a fucking hypocrite and blame it solely on them, its your fault."
"Fuck you!" I screamed at him, feeling rage like I haven't since the void.
"I bet you want to, given how much I look like Nevil," he mocked.
I flinched, I visually flinched, tears in my eyes, years of sadness, of guilt, of rage, "No need to try to hurt me, I've been doing the self-deprecating job very successfully on my own for the past 525,602 and a half years. I am aware of all the decisions I took, just as I remember how your brother fooled and made me fall for him, while he pretended to be a Nothr'yon and not a Velothren. I remember it all too well how Kylius Vadryon and Azarain Sarinith congratulated them for being successful in his mission to use me, how all of them schemed to backstab my dad and my mom, by unitting with your family, the enemy. I didn't decapitate my mom or my dad, fake Prince, so I didn't kill them, your family did, while I was being tortured after being kidnapped. But it's all my fault, isn't it? Isnt it?" I screamed.
Grabbing my backpack, I but my daggers back into my boots.
"Threaten me with my baby siblings again, master Gléowyn Celebrimbor, and I will do to you what my mother failed in doing," I hissed, and pushing through all of them, I went to the edge of the cliff. "Stop faking that this is all random, that this place isn't controlled and all the deaths aren't premeditated, it sickens me," I yelled at them. "Every year it's the same fucking thing. 11111 are picked by that dragon bitch, many randomly and many deliberately. 8888 make through the climb and to the bridge test. 8000 will die in here, only 888 will be alive. And for what? Just so more than half will be murdered by the end of year 1 and only 111 will be able to graduate, to have a doomed life afterwards. Fuck you, hypocrites!"
But before I could cross and step into the bridge, he grabbed my arm and yanked me back, aggressively so, making me nearly break my neck to glare back.
"What? Angry that I spilled your little secret?" I mocked, rage taking over.
"Your blood will attract the fucking dragons," he yelled. "To all of them."
"Why should I care?" My voice was cold, lifeless. "He asked me to pay for the blood debt my father owed him for murdering his father. When he cowared, I helped him do it. He brought that to you all, if the dragons come and eat them for lunch, I couldn't give a shit, if you didn't want blood spilled, you should have done your job a little better and not allowed the boy from asking an unstable immortal girl like me, for something that I would gladly do. Seems like that makes it your fault, no? If you were too incompetent to avoid him from being reckless?"
"It's you who are the bigger target, Grace Madalverel," he mocked.
"Yeah?" I took a step closer. "Then I'll kill the dragon that comes at me."
"Kill a dragon? Have you lost it?" He hissed at me, incredulous.
"If I lost it?" I just grinned like a maniac, "Why don't you ask your daddy and big brother that, baby boy? They will give you an answer, but I doubt a weak motherfucking cunt like you, could ever withstand the truth of what they did." My glared turned icy again, "If you didn't want a possible dragon slayer here, your lil Supreme Commander shouldn't have told that dragon whore, to pick me. What can a dragon do? Kill me?" I mocked, pushing him away from me hard. "Stay away, if you don't me to do to you, what your daddy did to mine, Velothren spawn."
Done with their shit, I pretended to be confident about what I was about to fucking do, and stepped into the bridge of death, arms stretched at my sides with my bloodied daggers in hand, going with a foot at each time, trusting my peripheral vision and avoiding looking down or I would definitely piss myself in fear.
I won't get hurt. The ground is centimeters away from me.
Falling is not an option, it'd be pathetic, my bloodline doesn't do pathetic.
I'll be fine, it's not like I'm covered in blood and a living bait for dragons.
It's right there, I'll get ther soon. I'm fucking alright, couldn't be better.
I just need to keep my balance and my feet firm. I'll be fine.
Sing mom's lullaby, Grace, sing. Don't think, sing.
"1 crow for malice, 2 for mirth, 3 for a funeral, 4 for birth, 5 for silver, 6 for gold, 7 for a story that should never be told, 8 for heaven, 9 for hell, 10 for the devil where ever he may dwell…" I swallowed, doing my best to sound like I'm singing a prayer like mom used to, and not growling a demonic exorcism. "1 crow for malice, 2 for mirth, 3 for a funeral, 4 for birth, 5 for silver, 6 for gold, 7 for a story that should never be told, 8 for heaven…"