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Fantasy Fiction Sad

This story contains themes or mentions of physical violence, gore, or abuse.

I hadn't meant to betray him, but as the explosion rattled me, I knew I had. Screams shook the air, and I clasped my hands over my ears. A strong hand pulled them down and held them tight. My father smiled at the fire that engulfed the Weir’s mansion, the intent of watching it all fall before us.

Our car sat in a grove of trees, giving us cover but allowing us to watch the massacre that ensued at my hands.

“Do you think Lio is okay?” I asked Father, trying to steady my breath. He frowned at the question, turning his full attention to me. 

“If he is, then we have failed.” He responded cooly as if the deaths meant nothing. “We did this for you, my son.” He cupped my chin in his hands, squeezing slightly. That was right. This was for me. This is what was best for us all. “Driver, let's go.”

The car started forward, moving out from the trees. The horridness of the scene doubled in the open. People rushed out of the collapsed building crowding the area. I watched as a young woman, dragged a man across the grass body so bloodied I couldn't make any features out. One man standing near the road lay a body on the floor, turning at the sound of tires on rocks. He froze, locking eyes with me.

He grabbed a rock, throwing it at the bulletproof windshield, it bounced off harmlessly. He raced at the car but dropped underneath with a loud bang. The guard sitting in the front seat pulled a gun back into the car, sighing loudly. As the car bumped over the body, I sought my father's comfort, burying my face into his arms. 

“Hire, you must come to your senses,” He spoke coldly in a way I had never heard before. “This is our world. He lifted my face, turning it to the building that got smaller behind us. “This is your legacy, my prince.”

“Where is my father?” I called after a servant that was covered in blood. “Where is Lord Weir?”

“Oh, young master.” The servant fell to their knees muttering something under their breath.

“Where is my father?” I yelled at them longing but afraid of the answer.

“I’m so sorry,” The servant stumbled on their words.

“No,” I stifled the sob that threatened to appear. I was cut off by the hands around my shoulder.

“Young master Lio, you should have stayed at the pond.” Berl’s steady voice comforted me, but his hands shook on my shoulders. I turned, to look at him. He stood only a few inches taller than me though he was already in his mid-thirties.

“Where is my father, Berl?” I choked out, my throat felt as though it had tightened. He didn’t speak but he guided me through the chaos gently. As we approached a large crowd, Kiko's voice reached me.

“He’s only thriteen. He’s much too young to lead us,” She spoke with determination, re-instating her position as my father's top councilor.

“He is the heir. We have no choice,” A voice I didn’t recognize. Kiko started to speak again but stopped as Berl led me through the crowd. She hurried towards us, her argument momentarily forgotten. 

“Berl, why did you bring him here?” She stood definitely in front of our path, causing heads to turn in our direction. Whispers rocketed through the crowd.

“He needed to see for himself,” Berl whispered to Kiki keeping the words from the people gathered. 

“He is a child,” Kiko argued not bothering to whisper, “He shouldn’t be here.”

“He is the heir.” Berl started quickly. “He is above us.”

“Do not speak for me as if I am not here.” I cut in. “I can make my own decisions.”

“Of course, Lio,” Kiko spoke, “But I am Mr. Weir’s head counselor. I know what I am speaking of.” The people around us had slowly moved closer, trapping us in a tight circle. I grabbed my wrist, trying to steady my pulse.

“Let me see my father, Kiko.” I tried to steady myself speaking with an air I had seen my father use before. “Now.”

She hesitantly looked around before stepping aside. I brushed off Berl’s shaking hands, fighting the urge to run as the crowd parted for me. 

The sight that met me, made me stop cold. My father lay on the ground, his head on Mistress Piddi’s knees. The lower half of him was so bloodied, I wasn’t sure where his clothes and his skin separated. I raced to his side, grabbing his hand. I squeezed tightly but got no response back from him. 

“What happened to him?” I whispered, not able to stop the choking noise that released as well.

“The doorframe collapsed on him when the bombs went off.” Mistress Piddi responded, reaching across to place her hand on my own. “We managed to get it off, but he-” She cut off looking up at me. “He died of blood loss.”

The world around me faded out to a dim muttering. The figures merged. This was all a bad dream. It had to be. A few minutes ago I had been working on my studies. That was is. It was all a bad dream, changing from one scene to the next. I just needed to wake up.

“Master Weir.” Berl's hand grabbed my shoulder, cutting through my loneliness. “Master Weir.”

“Why are you calling his name, Berl?” I shouted up at him, my sadness turning to anger. “He can’t hear you!” Berl’s face showed a look of sorrow, that cut me deeper than the silence had.

“I am not calling for him,” Berl stated, slowly getting on one knee. “You are now our Master Weir.”

All around me, the group lowered themselves to the ground, looking at me. Looking to me for orders and help.

“No!” I screamed at all of them, raising myself, “I am not your master! My father is. He, he is Master Weir!”

“He is no longer with us. You are our Master. You are our legacy, my king.” Kiko lowered herself as the rest of them, leaving me standing among the chaos that encircled us.

January 27, 2022 17:02

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