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Thylas

A tlas stands with a toying smirk on his face, as if what he revealed shouldn’t cause everything I’ve known to change. But it does. I’m the only heir.

“I didn’t know Ereon wasn’t your son ... not officially anyway.” Anara’s words cross the room in a hushed tone. “So your only heir isn’t loyal to you.” She looks up at me with a guarded expression before turning back to Atlas. “How long have you known about Ereon?”

“I had my suspicions. Ereon looked nothing like me at birth, and still doesn’t. His heart is too soft, he’s never had the temper I expected. Ereon always remained in control of his emotions, the ones I hoped would incinerate him. However, having Antalis’ ambassador as my heir, that’s interesting. When you arrived I felt it though, that fire — the anger. The one who was so in love with his charge he watched her marry another, I could feel the flames begging to be released. And yet you left her ...” He grabs a bronze cup from his side table, swirling the liquid inside of it before taking a sip. “We will come back to that little snafu because that’s a different problem soon to be solved. However, we need to complete your succession into my line.” He leans down, grabbing a vial of red liquid uncorking it.

“Just like that? I’ll be what? Prince of Shaston?” I ask, glancing toward Anara who subtly shakes her head no.

“Yes. It’s that simple ... drink this, we will say a few words, and then I’ll renounce Ereon.” He smirks at me, dumping the contents into the cup. “Wouldn’t it be nice to have everything your heart ever desired? You were denied so much when your mother hid you from me.”

“You told Reph to kill me. My mother hid me to protect me.” The rage inside of me blazes at the thought of the life I could have had, the life my mother could have had. The one where I would have been a prince. It would have been to Shaston’s cruel kingdom, but I would have wanted for nothing. My mother would have never needed to beg for scraps, my skin would have never been burnt by the sun. I would have had everything. While Ereon might complain, he doesn’t know what it was like to grow up without any of the luxuries he had.

“I may have been a bit ... rash in my thinking when I found out about you, that is true.” Atlas stands up. “But see, long ago a bargain was made with Khaysus. Only one blood heir was to be born each generation. With Ereon already born, I didn’t want to risk the agreement between Khaysus and I. However, it wasn’t until much later that I realized Ereon wasn’t my blood to begin with. So now, it’s time to make this right.” He walks over to me and claps his hand on my shoulder. “I am sorry for how you were treated. I would have never let a child of mine deal with everything done to you.”

“Ereon bears marks, the same as mine, from whippings. Everyone saw them during the Nle Shom —”

“Ereon was a spoiled brat who always wanted more and more,” Atlas cuts me off. “All I asked was for his obedience and instead he fought me at every turn. You, I can see how loyal you are. You would have been different. You still can be.”

He holds out the cup, and I eye it. One sip and some words is all it would take, and your life could change forever. Are these my own thoughts, or someone else’s? I can’t even tell the difference anymore because maybe they are the things I’ve always been too scared to want.

“Thylas, no.” Anara’s voice sounds nearer as her feet approach me. Fire shoots from Atlas’ hand and flaming circles surround her, imprisoning her in an incandescent cage. She releases her own flames, but his engulf Anara’s. She’s powerful, but at this point — she is no match for Atlas.

“Tsk, tsk. Let’s not interfere, shall we? You may be a descendant of Kya, but my father created her.” His flames continue to dominate Anara’s as she releases more, attacking the cage.

“Khaysus did not create you, you are the traitor who turned their back on the who did.” She lets out an angry growl. “Drāhēn?, I imagine, wishes she never thought you into existence.”

He snaps his head at her. “Drāhēn? took my love and threw it away. She chose me! Chose me to lead the Antalians!” he yells into the room, his words echoing off the walls. “We had matching crowns before mine turned dark because of the flames I begged for when she left me. The crown the Princess wears is silver, which doesn’t match the Antalian colors of gold. But no one has questioned it — lost to history — but I know the truth.”

Atlas fumes as he continues, “I did everything I could to erase Drāhēn? after her pathetic excuse of a sacrifice — just because her heart was broken. I took the crown, her colors, and now … I’ll do what I have to do, again. I did what any man would do when they had pledged themself to someone just to be tossed aside.” He jerks his eyes to me. “You know about that, don’t you? How does it feel to love someone so much, and then they pass you by?”

My fingers flex at my side because I do understand his pain. The pain of loving someone so much, and then having them ripped from my arms. Carnaxa doesn’t want you . She said she still did. It was all lies. My thoughts tumble and war with themselves inside of me.

Atlas swirls the liquid again and puts some sort of sound barrier around Anara as she screams. “Let’s let the boy make his own decisions, something he’s never been able to do before.” He looks me straight in the eyes. “Have you?”

He speaks the truth. I haven’t been able to make my own choices, not truly. I was told I could, but in the end, I always chose the option that was best for Carnaxa or Antalis. Because you’ve always been loyal.

Taking the cup from his hand, I meet his eyes again. Behind them is a flame that matches my own. A father that could have never loved me, but I didn’t have that, anyway. But I could have been here, instead of fighting him like Ereon did. I could have been the one to help save these people. Maybe inside of him is still a man worth fighting for. I’ve lost myself to anger more times than I can count, did things I thought would help but only to hurt those around me. You can be so much more.

Suddenly, the sky darkens, and I wonder why. I can hear Anara’s muffled screams behind me, but nothing intelligible.

“Do you want to see her?” Atlas says. “I can show her to you, until you learn to use the powers on your own.”

“Why would you?” I ask.

“Because you are the Prince of Shaston. Whatever you want will be at your whim,” he says as he motions to a pot of coal and the flames rise higher. He waves his hand again, and it’s then I see her cerulean strands through the red flames.

“I love you,” Ereon says from beyond the flame we glimpse them through. “Just let me hold you once more.” Carnaxa’s ocean eyes are full of tears as she lays her head against his chest and pushes against a wound that bleeds from his stomach. The ripple ebbs and flows between them as she seems to make peace with something in her mind. He’s dying and I’m not there to help her or ease her pain. Inside me something stirs as if trying to wake once more. But before I can do anything, the flame is extinguished and the image is erased.

“Become the Prince of Shaston ... and I’ll let you have her. I’ll even take her away from Ereon, if he survives. The agreement between Antalis and Shaston can remain the same. You can still have her.” Atlas stands beside me, offering the cup once more.

I take it from his hands. I could keep her safe, keep Antalis safe. I could honor the arrangements already made between the kingdoms. I could probably even kill Atlas if that’s what it takes after he declares me heir. I can do this.

I stare down at the cup and for a moment I think of nothing but her. The way her skin felt against mine, the way she smiled at me, and the way she laughed. I reflect on all the moments that have been taken from us since we arrived on these sands.

A simple drink, that’s all it takes and you’ll have everything you’ve ever wanted. My fingers tremble as words swirl in my head. I was born to nothing, and yet I could have had everything. I would have been on the other end of her arranged marriage — I would have had power. Why die today when you can be a king?

And then, I drink.

Somewhere in the distance I hear Atlas’ words. “ Yor myung myung e yor, sra kyer klesh .”

The liquid feels like tiny shards of glass as it scorches down my throat and flows into my veins. Each jagged edge tearing at me from the inside. My breath stutters as I fall to my knees.

Atlas’ dark laugh filters through the room, a low mocking sound that vibrates through my bones. “Well, that was easy enough.” His words stop me and I look up at him, his face already appearing older than it did moments ago. “A few promises of princess pussy and you sold your soul so willingly.”

He flicks his fingers towards Anara, the barrier drops and a blast of her furious fire floods the room. “It’s done now, little Minasian.”

I turn around, noticing the dark sky along with the look of peril on Anara’s face.

“What?” It’s all I can ask as nothing makes sense. “Sold my soul? But I’m to be the Prince.”

“Oh, you will be ... your body will anyway.”

Anara comes running up to my side. “You didn’t …”

I nod my head, confused by her words.

“What the whore just figured out is an answer to a question I’m sure her people have wondered about forever. Why does the Kingdom of Shaston never get a more agreeable ruler? Well, you see, it’s because before the end of this day — you won’t be completely you anymore. You’ll inherit the traits of your forefathers and we will let all that rage you’ve always had unleash in a forceful conflagration. Those born with fire have always been a little hotheaded. At first, it will be difficult. The virtue still left in your heart will fight him, but you were born for this. The darkness inside of you will take over. It always does. Fun little ritual Khaysus gave me to make sure I could cause as much destruction as possible. It only works on blood heirs though, as long as the heart still beats.” He shrugs. “Glad I found one who agreed so willingly.”

“Oh, don’t look so sad,” Atlas continues as he walks to his throne. He takes off the crown and places it on the table beside him. “You’ll have everything you ever dreamed of.”

My fingertips tremble before they ignite; I feel so foolish. I stand on shaky legs. My heart beats stronger as something swirls inside of me. But it’s my anger that I lean into. It simmers like molten lava, begging to be unleashed. Let it go. And I do.