Renit's screaming is replaced by my own as a prickling burn shoots through my body, starting in my chest and blossoming out like branches underneath my skin. My head spins, my body swaying with uncertainty until I fall to my knees, screaming as my head pounds with an ache that can only mean death is on the other side.

I grip onto both sides of my head and scream as loud as I can to dull that pain. Everything else in the throne room is gone—the king, the princes, the crumbling rebel to my side barely able to breathe. None of that is there, and it's just me, fighting the battle underneath my skin. Even if I don't want to, the pain is enough to make me want to stop.

Growling through my teeth, I plead for the pain to stop as it numbs my legs, traveling up from my feet, then wraps around my abdomen like the tight coil of a snake and squeezes with all its might, brandishing my organs and snapping my ribs in two. But when I reach down to feel them, they're still intact. I scream through each false break and each lie of a sword slicing through my vital organs when in reality, it's just the potion claiming me as its first victim.

My ears are ringing so violently I wouldn't be able to hear Renit or what he might threaten his father with. Instead of focusing on what he might say, I grip tight onto my hair and scream until there's nothing left. I scream through every bone cracking, every muscle stretching, and every tendon snapping. It's all phantom pain, once this is over, I'll be as good as new.

With a dry throat that can barely register to make any more sounds, I sob. The throne room spins and I place my palms flat on the marble floors to keep from losing what sanity I might have left. Keep your eyes shut, I tell myself. Don't let the king think you're too weak.

I think of Celestine's smile and that one day when her power created an entire meadow of flowers with one wave of her hand. I had been so shocked to see the petals blossoming full and wide, their colors sprinkling across the land like rainbow drops of sunshine. Even that thought of happiness isn't enough to drive the pain away that begins to snake into my chest, gripping tight.

It becomes difficult to breathe, my lungs feel like they're on fire but I power through it, heaving wildly as a new wave of air fills my head. I'm losing too much air, I'll die soon if I have to keep going on like this. A small tether smelling of rain keeps me attached to the world outside of the potion finding its way into my body.

Slowly, I feel myself slipping. The potion is taking control and with one deep breath and a quick shut of my eyes; I allow it. The pain slows, stopping at my collarbones before swimming to my neck and choking the life out of me.

A heaviness like I've never felt before fills my skull and the air once suffocated with rain is now replaced with the familiar scent of Akeno's blood. He's watching me warily, studying the pool of vomit I must have emptied from my stomach at one point or the other. I don't remember.

Looking up with eyes aching, I find Renit where I last saw him—on his knees, panting with exhaustion from fighting. Just as I catch that sight of him, two leather boots laced to the knees stand in the way and block us from ever looking at each other again.

I'm alive. I survived through the potion.

"Rise."

The king's voice is cold, a leader to their servant, and without the thought registering in my mind, I'm moving to my feet on shaken knees. I don't have the strength to fight back; the potion has taken control and after the lack of fight I put up before, there isn't a chance of me standing up for myself now. Each word the king says is something I must obey. If he tells me to kill Renit, I'll have no choice but to do so.

I breathe heavy, spit dribbling down my chin as I force myself to stand up straight and face my king. All that hate disappears, and it's replaced by a certain respect and care for the man standing in front of me. I must worship him, I must do everything in my power to show him how much I care.

My mind fogs and everything else is forgotten as I bow deeply towards the king, the leader of this beautiful kingdom. He has done well for himself.

The king unsheathes the sword at his belt, blade whining and glistening in the light of the braziers. Flame flickers off the iron, creating a red-hot appearance without the pain when touching. That sword is handed off and I hold the heavy weight, relishing in the warmth left behind from the king's touch.

Meeting his dark eyes of resilience, I grip the sword tighter and wait for my orders. I was born for this; I was born to serve my king.

"This witch is a rebel. He threatened my kingdom and my throne. You don't want him to do that again, do you?" The king asks. His voice is as gentle as chimes in the breeze.

"Of course not, my king," I respond blandly. My voice is not my own, but it feels...mine.

The king's eyes shift slowly to the witch kneeling on the floor of the throne room and then back to what I've become. At the sight of the attention, my blood warms, leaping with recognition. The potion has fully settled and now—it is me. The potion is Roux Aimrey and the witch of ground doesn't exist anymore.

Leaning in close to my ear, he whispers, "I order you to kill this man."

Without a single question and without caring about the two screaming witches to the side of the throne room, restrained by the talented guards at the king's side, I stand in front of the dying heap of a rebel. He threatened my king, threatened the land itself, and received the punishment worthy of his crimes. I'm so white-hot with anger I don't register his name or the name of anyone else in the room.

With a strength I never thought I had, holding an angle to a sword I've never grazed, I reach back as far as I can and drive forward with the blade. A sense of fulfillment, of warmth, fills me as that blade slides into the abdomen of the kneeling witch. His power is lost to me, yet I think it got me here somehow.

"Thank you for helping me find myself," I whisper.

He groans, leaning forward against the blade and I rip it out to give him that last bit of momentum. The squelch of muscle tearing and bones crunching is the music of a job well done. Turning back to my king, I nod and bow at the waist, extending the sword back to him with the remnants of blood dripping from the once clean blade.

One brutal flick is all it takes to remove that blood. The sword is clean enough to return to the sheath. At my feet, the witch's body topples to the floor, a puddle of blood leaking out onto the floor underneath him.

The king's smile is nothing short of extraordinary.

"Now that that is taken care of, I have another matter to attend to," the king muses. "Binx, if you would—"

"Please, Roux," Renit pleads. His name is a flash in my mind and I pivot towards him. Something like affection or care twinges in my heart and the fog in my mind departs upon seeing those silver eyes. "This isn't you. You aren't a killer and you don't belong to the king." There's recognition and part of me wants to let myself out of the cage I'm in but...

"Now that I've been rudely interrupted—Binx, will you please step forward," the king repeats. I snap my attention back to him upon hearing the voice the potion looks for.

Binx, the king's personal guard I recognize, steps forward and bows to the king as I've done. I was about to scream at him for not doing so.

"You are to rid Roux Aimrey of her feelings of love for the prince. Give her the illusion that he was the one who destroyed her village, he was the one who killed her parents, he was the one that harassed Celestine and threatened to take the joy from everything she cared about. Make her hate the prince."

That recognition I've been searching for is finally here and something in my mind snaps, reaching for Renit. But as quickly as I've found myself wanting to protect him once more, my mind fogs over with a new wave of darkness.

Blinking rapidly, I try to clear the confusion but find myself open to only one simple truth. He did this. The man screaming my name, pleading for me to remember all we've done together, is the one who did this. As quick as a growl through my teeth, I've forgotten of the illusion that I ever loved him, that I ever cared, that he ever meant anything in the first place. He's as good as dead.

The eyes of the prince turn frantic. Even the other one, kneeling and watching me with fear in his features, is nothing. They could have done this together, killed my parents and left nothing for me. Celestine...Celestine will be honored one way or the other and I will make Renit pay—as my mother wanted. She told me to make him pay before the prince took her head.

"I'll do anything, please," Renit croaks. "You can't take her away from me."

I walk with the king as he heads back towards the dais. Each step is unhurried and as careless as I've allowed myself to feel. He turns, placing his hands on my shoulders. "Can't you see, my son? She's already gone."

His warm touch sparks through me and I smile at the two princes, imagining their head on stakes rather than their bodies.

"After today, you are disowned," the king directs towards his son. Renit blanches. "You are no longer my son which means you are no longer the prince. I will have your crown and you will lose your title. You are banished from ever entering this city again and if I see you after today, you will lose your head. I'm giving you a mercy, son, by allowing you to keep your life. That's what she wanted, and in return for serving me so faithfully, I will offer her this. Even if she isn't here to thank me." He brushes back the strands of hair from my neck, fingers grazing along my skin.

"Please, father. I have done nothing but be loyal to you. Mother would hate you for this," Renit sneers.

"Your mother was a coward." The king's growl rocks through me. Forgetting all bit of hate towards his son, he whispers in my ear, "You can come with me, darling. Take your new position on the throne."

I follow him up the dais steps, Binx stopping at the bottom to face the throne room. He doesn't look at me, doesn't look at anything other than what is before him. Good. If I'm to serve my king, I don't need distractions from those that can twist my thoughts against him. As the prince, and Binx, will try to do.

The king gestures towards my throne, the one belonging to a long-dead queen. "And this—" The leather moans as he tugs the blade free "—belongs to you."

I turn, taking the sword in my hand and bowing low to my king. No one receives a higher honor than being granted the sword of a king. The princes kneeling have never received such love from their father for they wouldn't agree to his policies. They were too foolish to see that with his cruelty; he was merely trying to help others along. Help his people. He wanted them to be strong and all that mattered to them was fear.

He won't have to worry about that from me. I will be loyal to the end.

"Guards, bring my sons to the center," the king orders. Again, the magic of the potion sings in answer.

Chains rattle as they bring both princes to their feet and force them towards the middle of the throne room. They stand, facing me, staring at me through lowered brows. Not at their father but at me. I would like to teach them a lesson or two about respect for their king, the man that gave them everything from their first breath to the throne.

Something he has the right to take away.

"It's a new day in Esaria!" The king's voice booms across the throne room. "You lead them now," he whispers softly in my ear. He takes his seat upon the large throne, smiling down at the two sons standing before us.

Pointing the tip of my blade at them, I hiss, "Kneel." With my chin high, I frown as neither of them moves in the position I've granted. The body between them continues to leak, but he is long forgotten as are the troubles that come along with any other breaths he might have taken.

"He's forcing you to do this," Renit tries one last time. "You're in there somewhere and I'll do whatever it takes to find you. We'll find our way back to each other."

My heart screams at him to hate, hate, hate. That's all I have left for a prince disowned and banished by the king. He means nothing.

Gripping tighter onto my sword, I repeat, "Kneel."

The princes exchange a wary glance, the one I'm indifferent about releasing a deep breath before slowly dropping to one knee and dipping his head low. I grin wickedly, already enjoying watching as one prince bows to me. The other, though, he remains standing for longer. He stares at me and searches through what is the inside and outside of my existence until finally, as if the effort alone is dragging him down, his knee slams against the marble and splashes in the pool of blood.

Once the princes are secured in the spots they're supposed to be, knees bent and heads dipped low in appreciation, I turn back to the king and the throne waiting for me. He nods his acceptance as I sit next to him, spreading my arms wide onto the rests to view the throne room before me.

This is how it ends. With me on the throne and two unnecessary boys kneeling before me. It should have been this way all along; since that first day the foolish prince stormed my village and gave me a reason to hate his blood until the end of time.

END