Zen's mouth felt dry. His head pounded in time to the thundering steps of the soldiers he walked with. He was in the third row, his crossbow strapped to his back with his quiver of metal bolts that hung from his waist swaying with every step. He couldn't let his steps falter because if one person stopped, or hesitated, or tried to go back, then their formation would topple. He was surprised Malum didn't put him in the front. He really was. He'd assumed that he'd want to flaunt him off. That he'd want them to see who he had on his side.

Zen would have rather keeled over and die during his next step, but it never happened. He kept walking, kept living. Kept heading right to the courts he had called home so he could destroy it. He squeezed his eyes shut briefly before he opened them to look towards Malum. He was in the very front, in between Aurelia and Nicator, that damn overcoat of his swishing in the wind. He stared at him, blue eyes burning before he felt something thump against his thigh and he became painfully aware of the sword he carried now.

"Zen, today is your lucky day. I have a gift for you."

Zen raised an eyebrow and Malum smirked before a box appeared between them, floating with a red aura around it. The lid was lifted off of it as the box lowered so Zen could see inside of it. Sitting among some tissue paper was a sword. It was beautiful. The blade was a pitch black that radiated with the room's lights. The handle was as black as ebony, and the handles curled up the end, pointing up with the blade. By instinct he reached down and wrapped his hand around the handle, pulling it out as the box disappeared. As he held it, symbols appeared on the dark material. Shimmering gold, it formed a language he didn't understand. It stayed there and he glanced at Malum quizzingly.

"He's enchanted. No one will be able to wield him but you." Zen raised an eyebrow, turning his back on him to stare at the floor length mirror that lined the wall of the training hall. He swiped it and saw that the gold light followed it like a trail, lingering for half a second before fading. "He's a very powerful sword." Malum continued as he watched him. "His blade cuts through flesh like butter, and I've seen people move like blurs when they're fighting with it." Zen swiped it again, getting a feel for the blade.

"He?" He asked before he even realized he had opened his mouth to speak. Malum smirked at him through the mirror.

"He, she, it. Whichever you prefer. It's yours, after all." Zen looked at him in the mirror. He held the blade in front of his face to examine it again. It was just his style. Light, fast, and black. He looked at Malum through the mirror again to see he was watching him intently, and he stared for a moment before he turned to face him. He lowered the sword.

"Thank you," He said though it burned on his tongue. Malum smirked.

"But of course! Consider it a... Welcome to the family, gift."

It was a beautiful blade. Zen wished he didn't have to hate it.

Honest to god, Zen couldn't tell you through his view on how they infiltrated the Courts. Or how he went through the rooms, staying in the back, avoiding every painting and taking every chance to miss when he fired his crossbow. He couldn't tell you how his hands shook, or how his throat felt tight. He couldn't tell you any of that.

Because they never made it through the front door.

They stopped suddenly, and a murmur of shock ran through the soldiers. Zen knew something was wrong before Malum even spoke.

"My my my," Malum's voice was velvety and smooth like always, but Zen knew he was just as thrown off as he was, "did someone call ahead for us? I wanted to surprise you!"

"I am in no mood, Malum." Medicus snarled, and Zen felt his breath coming short.

"I can see! I don't believe I've ever seen you so angry, Medicus!" Oh god, he thought pleadingly, shut up, please, I beg of you!

"I want to see the traitor. I want to see him myself." His breath stopped coming completely. "Bring him out."

"Traitor?" Malum asked, feigning confusion but not really trying. "I don't know what you're talking about, my old friend. Who among you could betray-?"

"ENOUGH GAMES! Step out traitor, and show me your face!"

Medicus's voice would have shaken the earth in the Death Courts if the dirt wasn't fake. Zen swallowed. How did he know? What had gone wrong? Surely, surely Medicus couldn't have known that they planned t...

Oh.

That's right.

No use hiding, he supposed.

He was walking before he knew it, walking past the soldiers in the gap between the rows. He came to a break and he turned, and his dark blue eyes met Medicus's unseeing blue. The man he called a father all his life looked disgusted to be in the presence of his core.

Medicus was there, with every soldier the Courts had lined up behind him. His sword was on fire and his mouth was in a firm line. Rufus was behind him, loyal to his husband as always, gripping his battle ax. SS was on his right and Angel was on his left. SS's scythe was a sight that made his heart drop. Angel's sword made it break. Blair was beside SS, but he didn't care to look at her. He stared at Medicus as he saw SS's face twist in horror while Angel's paled out of the corners of his eyes.

"You damn fool." Medicus snarled. "Did you forget about the connection you have with your father? With ME?! Did you never stop to think that I would feel your betrayal or your PLANS?!"

No. He hadn't. He truly, honestly hadn't. He had been so wrapped up in his grief that he forgot. But he supposed it was good, for the Courts. But for Malum... Would he believe that Zen truly, honestly forgot? That he forgot about the connection that had bound Vacuos, Medicus, and him for years?

He could see SS's face twisting in fury. He stepped forward but Rufus grabbed his arm before he could make it any further. Zen kept his face emotionless as he felt his father all around him from the void, trying to reach him, trying to understand how he could do such a thing.

"You traitor," Medicus snarled. "You foolish, cursed TRAITOR!"

Zen could see the Death Court guards getting angry. They all looked so betrayed as many found themselves facing the Prince they had served for years standing before them as an enemy. But the younger ones were more dangerous. The ones who had only served SS. Who were angry that he was threatening the Courts, and their Prince.

"Malum," Medicus snarled, "do not be a fool. You won't win against us here. I will give you one chance to walk away. If you don't..." His eyes turned black. "I will kill you."

Zen found the courage to glance at the man. He was surprised to see him staring at him, searching him with his amber eyes. Zen turned his head completely so that Malum saw, so that everyone saw what he did next. If he must be a traitor... Then he would take the title and sell it.

'I didn't.' He mouthed. 'I'm so sorry.'

It wasn't a lie. Malum didn't need to know that the last bit wasn't aimed towards him. Malum stared at him for a few moments longer, before he chuckled and looked at Medicus. He took off his hat and did a flourishing bow.

"Well, I can't simply deny your kindness, dear Medicus." Zen could feel the hatred spewing from the large crowd before them. He didn't look at them and only stared at Malum. He found it easier to. "We shall leave! I know when to call it quits." He smirked. "Have a good day." He turned away to call his troops back.

If Zen hadn't been looking, he wouldn't have seen it. He wouldn't have seen the young, SS-bound Courts Guard lose his temper and charge right towards Malum, the sharp end of his spear gleaming.

And in Zen's defense, he had no choice.

He moved so quickly he didn't even realize what he had done until he was in between Malum and the guard, the very sword Malum had given him in his hand as he sliced off the guard's arm. His spear clattered to the floor and for a moment, everything slowed down for Zen.

He could see their faces, now. Angel was clutching Rufus's arm, bits of her shell already starting to crack from her grief. Medicus's face was angry, hateful. He tried to remind himself that it was an act. That Medicus knew. It was SS's face through that cut him deep.

He was pissed. He hated him. Rage contorted his features and made his lips curl back in a snarl. His hair was a bright flame and the starry freckles he had gotten from their father glowed with his eyes. The only thing holding back was Blair, her hands gripping his arm.

If he did this, if he struck down a Courts Guard right in front of them, there would be no going back. This wasn't something that could be forgiven. But he had to. If this guard killed Malum, the Mark of Medicus would be passed on. If he did this, it would make up for his mistake with the connection he had mistakenly kept with Vacuos and Medicus. It could open a whole new gateway of trust.

He had no choice.

Everything sped back up as he swiped his sword through the air, and he watched as it cut through the guard like better, slicing down his neck to the base of his stomach. His blood splattered onto Zen, splattering across his clothes and face. He kept his face emotionless while his heart tore in two, as the guard screamed in agony. It rang in his ears even after it was over.

Silence filled the small realm as the guard slowly bled out at his feet. He could feel Malum's heat radiating behind him, and he knew he had seen. Zen stared down at the guard he pitted to no end, but he made no move to put him out of his misery. Instead, he flickered his eyes up and looked right at SS.

The anger couldn't be hidden now. There was no grief. Only rage. As the guard took his last breath SS screeched, horns tearing from his head, and Blair couldn't hold him back as he sprinted forward, right towards Zen.

"TRAITOR!" He screamed before Rufus leaped in front of him and grabbed his arms. He screamed again, loud and piercing. "TRAITOR!" Zen only stared.

Hate me, Lucille. He thought as Rufus drug him back, kicking and screaming. Hate me. It'll be so much easier than having to miss me.

"Get out, Malum," Medicus growled, somehow heard over SS's demonic screeching. "And take the traitor with you."

Malum chuckled and placed a hand on Zen's shoulder, and the other on top of his head. Zen couldn't even feel disgusted, even when Malum propped the elbow of the hand on his head on his shoulder. "Why, of course, Medicus." The man's voice sneered above his head. "I won't be letting this one go for a while."

It was silent in the mansion. The army dispersed into groups but Zen was left alone as he walked towards the hallway that would lead him to his room. When he felt everyone's eyes on him, including Malum's, he stopped. He pulled the sword out, the blade completely clean of any blood from a spell put on the scabbard. He stared at his reflection in the sharp blade.

"You were right, Malum."

His voice seemed booming in such a quiet room. He angled the sword to the left so he could see Malum in the reflection. The man was staring at him with an expression he couldn't read.

"He does cut through flesh, very easily."

Then he put it away and walked out of the room, and he couldn't even find it in him to cry.