One of us dies.

Sweat dripped down the back of my neck--not from heat, but nerves. Fear.

My father, no, the thing in my father's body, hovered near the edge of the circle, one hand trembling in front of him, other near his hip. As soon as King had finished talking, Dad started to pace like a wolf in its cage, waiting for prey.

I had yet to move. As soon as I did, it would be me against the monster.

Me against my father.

He had to remember. He'd known me for fourteen years; he had to have something screaming at him that it was me. His daughter.

My throat unclenched. "Dad?" I whispered.

His response was to charge.

I jumped out of the way, but just barely. His fingertips skimmed my side.

King cackled. "Calling for daddy won't work, child."

I didn't have a chance to reply. I was too busy trying not to be punched in the mouth.

King crossed his arms. "Magic, one of you, please! It makes it much more entertaining."

My father tensed up. Fists clenched, he tilted his head to the side and stared at my left shoulder, hard.

I bent my knees so his stare would soar over me, but heat already prickled against my skin. Burning pain erupted in my bones as the cloth around the spot burst into red and orange flames.

I screeched. A spell came to my mind. Trying it was my best option; it was either that or willingly burst into flames. "Nerua!"

A weak spout of water teased the fire enough for it to sizzle out.

Momentary relief washed over me, followed by a wave of exhaustion. The world in front of me turned into a blob and rocked side to side like a ship.

My knees hit the ground. Air sucked into my lungs, sending the rocking boat soaring.

Through miles and miles of fog, King cried out, "Magic isn't free, girl!"

No, really? I hadn't noticed that. Somehow, I managed to roll away from a blow of my father's. I don't know if he used magic that time or not, everything was too far away.

Warmth hit my cheeks, growing stronger the longer it stayed. Again, I rolled. A fireball smashed into the place I was last.

Get up. Get up or you're toast.

Knees like noodles, I managed to stand. From the corner of my eyes, I noticed King bob his head. Water lay in a puddle a few feet away from him, ripples through it every step someone took.

Water I cast.

Spells travel out of the ring.

That was workable.

I ran up so I stood in the middle of the giant circle. My bare feet tingled at the touch of the cool metal in the center.

Then I went stupid.

"Yo!" In as much of an overdramatic-not-scared-out-of-my-wits fashion as I could muster, I pointed to Dad. "Betcha can't hit a barn with your fireball from there, so why would you hit me?"

He stopped, suddenly stunned, and raised an eyebrow.

I've gone insane.

He was all of ten feet away, but I still shouted. "Fire away, chicken!"

White teeth bared out from under my father's curled lips.

That made him mad.

His hands lit up with blue flames a moment before they were shot my direction, all of them aiming for different spots.

I couldn't dodge them all.

I squeezed my eyes shut, not wanting to see death hurling toward my face. Heat tinged my shoulders and the top of my head.

Not a single piece of fire hit me.

I opened my eyes, heart like a drum in my throat. Every fireball missed me.

King.

Every fireball missed me because King couldn't be harmed by my father.

Eyes still on Dad, I backed away toward the edge of the ring, closer to King. When sparks buzzed a warning for me to go no farther, I turned my head.

The seven headed murae was untouched.

Theory correct.

As long as I was near King, there was a good chance I wouldn't be hit with magic.

Now, for keeping murae-man still.

Time to plan was in short supply. Before another idea crossed my mind, l had to duck away from a wild punch.

Arioch taught you for hours, moron. Use it more than once.

My gaze landed on my father's outstretched leg. His weight forward, it'd be easy to knock him off balance.

I shifted my right leg under his and kicked up, like brushing something backwards. His arms shot out to the side as he started to fall on his face, barely keeping him upright.

I ducked, placed my palms on his back, then shoved with all I could. His knees hit the ground with a bone-jarring thud.

One hand in the air, I froze. The center of my skin tingled with frigid air.

Air that would turn to an icicle.

Air that'd turn to a weapon.

Dark red blood splatters across the white snow, stains of violence in a place of peace. I drop the knife--the knife that tore through my father's ankle.

My arms fell. Me fighting Dad was exactly what King wanted. If I continued, one of us really would die.

I lined myself up with King, who had moved a few feet away.

"I won't fight him, King!" My body shook. "I won't hurt my father again."

The murae threw back his heads and laughed. "Do you really believe you're so important, that's all I care about?" He thumped his cane into the stone ground. "Either you die or he does, child. Either you lose a father or I lose a pain in the zhonus. It's a win for me, either way."

"Are you sure you're grown?" I raised my arm to block a punch from my father. A bolt of pain raced through my ribs. I gasped, stumbling away from Dad's raised knee. Green light flashed over my head in a spell I'd never seen before.

All too soon, I had to duck and dodge again. It was like a dance, except with me getting hit every few seconds. Dad tried to hit me with magic, but I always managed to be inline with King, which caused him to miss me with longer range attacks.

Short-range magic, on the other hand...

I only barely managed to get out of the way knife made of fire. The blade grazed my arm. A trail of blood ran down my elbow and plipped onto the floor.

The pain was only a sting.

Each breath I took sent a dagger through my side. I grabbed at my rib, where I was stupid and hadn't moved out of the way in time.

My refusal to fight only made it harder to avoid attacks.

And Dad wasn't slowing.

It had been hours since we started. Days.

My father's fist hurled toward my face. Without thinking, I brought my arms up.

"Pagesc!"

He froze, like caught in ice. The world spun as if it rested on a top.

Hit King. Hit him and you win.

I whirled around to find myself face to face with the murae.

I gasped. "Kaio!"

Fire shot from my fingertips. Every blast I shot hit King in his chest or stomach. Smoke rose from around him, covering everything in a gray haze.

For a moment, everything was still.

A hand shot out from the gray and grabbed my arm, right over where the fire-dagger hit. My skin stretched away from each end, sending bolts of lightning through my bones. Warmth ran down my skin fast than it should have.

The world moved too fast; I couldn't pull away. The walls and floor rocked like we'd suddenly moved to a boat instead of dry land. My back smashed against the barrier. Electricity shot into my body and sizzled, stewing for a later time, ready to explode.

Cold air blew against my cheek. My eyes darted to the left, where three of King's met mine.

He wrapped an arm around my neck--not tight, but there-- and opened his mouth. Two rows of sharp, white teeth poked from his gums. "Let's stop playing, hm?"

Dad wriggled his fingers. In seconds, he'd be free again.

In seconds, I would have to run.

Something akin to a wild boar's head shoved against me, just under my right shoulder blade. Air caught in the back of my throat, not coming out except for short bursts. It kept pushing me--pushing me until I should have snapped like a board.

My father's feet shuffled forward.

The pressure wrenched away from my body. I fell forward, no longer held by the smoke-arm.

Fire--fire worse than the real flames--exploded where the pressure had been. My feet wouldn't obey my mind; I told they to get under me and they twisted into a knot.

Blurs of red floated in my vision. My arms wouldn't stop shaking. They wouldn't hold me off the ground, where metal and stone bit into my cheeks.

I shifted to the side. Wet soaked into my elbow.

Water the color of crimson.

Blood.

The fire retreated to under my shoulder blade, right where King pushed.

My blood.

I turned my head, the only part of my body that seemed to still work, to stare at King. His cane, the black cylinder part was stained with falling crimson.

The door to the room slammed. A murae with a single sword dangling from his side slithered up to King and breathed into his ear. The leader's eyes widened, then his face turned to stone.

My foggy brain processed two words. Something happened.

"Kill her the rest of the way," he sighed. "I have more important business to attend to."

"More important business..." I spat of a clot of blood. "Afraid I'll come back to life?"

King smirked, but the mask fell apart in an instant. "Mere robbers are more important than you are, cktch."

Robbers.

Seconds later, he was gone.

What idiot of a robber would break into a monster's castle?

Footsteps clopped behind me. A warm hand, not like a murae's, skimmed the side of my neck. Dull throbs pulsed around my skin at the touch.

Two hands lifted me from the ground and placed me on my feet. My legs shook, but I stayed upright.

Dad backed away. For a moment, he was my father again.

The red in his eyes pulsed brighter than before. "Hands up," he growled. "I do not fight the defenseless."

The defenseless. The wounded.

The dying.

There was no need to pretend I wasn't. Every breath felt like stab to my chest, rattling through my bones. Scarlet blood fell onto the floor in droplets of puddles.

He is still partly the same.

"Dad, please."

Pleading wouldn't work. It had been tried before and nothing came of it.

It was the only thing I could do.

A jet of water blasted me in the face.

Raoul and I laugh as water pummels into our backs. Our parents chase us around the house with buckets of the stuff.

My knees hit the floor. Black spots danced like fireflies.

I met the eyes of the thing in my father's body. "It's me--Clair."

Freezing cold clamped down my ankles.

"Come on, Clair." Dad grabs my hands and pulls me toward a frozen pond. Two blades are draped over his neck. Mom and Raoul are already gliding around on the surface. "Let's go ice skating."

"Remember the frozen pond, Dad?" My voice was a wobbling rasp. "Raoul couldn't keep his balance at all. You had to hold him up the entire time."

The attacks paused.

I leaned against the force field. What should have hurt barely buzzed.

At least I'd have a good seat for my death.

My father raised his hands over his head. A dagger of ice rested in his hands.

I don't want to go. Not like this.

I swallowed. "Please, don't. Don't blame yourself."

He paused. The dagger shook.

I shut my eyes. "Daddy, please."

I hadn't called him that since I was seven.

The knife came down.

The shield around me fizzled out.

I fell back, hands barely catching me. My palms slipped against the slick ground.

Air came sailing from my mouth in gasps.

Dad stumbled back, hands clutching his head. His eyelids alternated between squeezed tight and open.

"Y-you don't want to kill me, do you?"

It was still him--there was still a chance.

My arms gave out. I slouched down, searching for air.

My father's eyes shot open. He stumbled near me, one hand reaching out until it skimmed against my knees.

The cold that started to seep into my bones faded away. I took a long breath.

Never had a father's touch been so comforting.

Dad fell into his knees beside me, hands and arms wrapped around his head. Garbled cries shot from his lips.

My heart hammered against my ribcage. I stretched out a hand. "Dad?"

"No!" His elbows his the ground. Blood bubbled up in his ear and poured out. "I won't--"

He screamed again, louder than ever before.

My spine tingled. My father, the army general--he'd never screamed. Never complained of pain. Never acted scared.

My fingers brushed against his back. Warmth tickled the edge of my skin.

I hadn't hit him, so why was there...

He healed me.

That's why I could stand. That's why I wasn't dead.

My father's back arched. His head up to the sky, he let out a roar of a shout. Tears of red trailed down his white cheeks.

Fighting miralis results in death.

"No!" He had to stop. He had to go back to how he was, otherwise he'd die.

I scrambled toward my father, only to be shoved back by a blast of magic. For a split second, I was a bird.

Then the bird lost her wings.

My body splatted against the ground. Black spots waved around for a moment, vanishing only at the sound of my father's voice.

"I--won't--kill--her!"

I crawled to my knees, world still spinning. At the same time, Dad fell onto his back.

"Dad!"

His legs were still folded under him from where he screamed at the silent sky. His fists mashed into the ground.

"I won't kill her."

All of the sudden, I could move.

Before I could think, my fingers were wrapped around my father's hand. I squeezed him as tight as I could, like life would sail into his blood.

He didn't squeeze back.

Numbness spread across my chest. Dad's eyes flicked from red to brown, red to brown, again and again. Red tears streamed down his cheek, falling off to go to his ears, where they met more crimson.

A pool of blood circled around his right shoulder from where I was stabbed--from where he healed me.

His voice was no more than a whisper the last time he spoke. "I won't...kill my daughter."

The brown took over the red.

He didn't move.

"Dad?"

I squeezed his hand. Months ago, he'd have squeezed back. He'd have joked and laughed and tried to pick me up.

I received stillness.

Heat flushed over the tips of my ears. "Daddy?"

Eyes open, he only stared at the emptiness of the ceiling.

"You know, Clair, when I die, I want to go looking at the sky." He shrugs. "I've spent too long staring at a empty wall to say anything else."

I clutched a piece of his tattered clothing in my fist.

He wasn't gone.

Couldn't be.

Dad is too alive to be dead.

My hand found its place over his heart.

Nothing.

"Byzheus, nyet." I felt over him for something--anything. Anything but stillness. Anything but death.

I found nothing.

Choked gasps forced their way out of my lungs. "Daddy, please."

This time, I wasn't pleading for my life, but his.

"Please, get up."

The tears that had been saved up started falling.

"Get up! Daddy, get up!" My fists shook. Head bowed, eyes closed, I screamed. I screamed until I had nothing left and screamed some more.

He wasn't dead.

He wasn't gone.

I laid my head on his chest, gasping for air.

Air he didn't breathe.

The gasps fell to chokes. The name I knew him by--his label, his mantel--kept coming from my lips like it would bring him back.

I pulled away from his drumless chest. The muscles in his face had fallen slack, no trace of a smile or grin on them. No light twinkled in his eyes, no expression dwindled on his face.

He was empty. A husk with no life brimming inside. A shell with no soul.

Gone.

I need to close his eyes.

Leaving them open just seemed too inhuman.

I reached out and carefully touched the bottom of my father's forehead. When my fingers reached his lids, they pulled down easily.

Instead of frozen, he was sleeping.

Sleeping forever.

More tears fell, ones I couldn't stop. I gasped and held Dad with all I had, trying to will some of my life force to him. Trying to get him to live.

If any murae had come to see what was wailing, I didn't know. They should have been glad they didn't. I would have disintegrated any rat type creature in an instant.

Feet hit the floor behind me. A hand grabbed my shoulder, just above the spot that had been cut.

Had been, because Dad healed me.

They'll take him.

They couldn't.

Whatever held my shoulder received a punch to the gut. I didn't look up, just screamed.

The person tried to grab my arms to stop me from clawing at his face, but he was too late.

"Let go!" I screamed. "Let me go, he's my father! I have to--"

Bury him.

My voice caught. "I have to--"

Nothing else would come.

Whoever held me suddenly became subject to me burying my face in his shoulder and sobbing.

A hand rubbed my back. A voice, a voice I knew, whispered to me-- not saying it was okay, because it wasn't.

The voice was like Dad's.

Dad is dead.

Not if I paid attention to whoever held me.

I pulled away from the boy's shaking chest. Straight, dark brown hair fell to around his nose. Sea green eyes past me and at my father.

Our father.

"You're dead," I gasped. "Raoul, you're dead, why am I..."

I've lost my mind.

He shook his head. "I'm here, Clair. Elora, she helped me get away from the muraes. William helped me get here, to see you and Mom and Dad, but--" My brother choked on his next words.

William.

As if I needed a reminder of him, too.

"What happened here?" he gasped. "Why is he gone?"

"Me." The tears that stopped talking shot to my eyes again. "He's gone because of me. King made us f-fight and--and Daddy couldn't kill me."

He clutches at his head, red falling from his eyes, nose, ears, and screams toward the heavens.

Raoul nodded, his bottom lip bitten. A single tear fell.

I turned around, back to the doll that used to live. To smile.

"We need to go," Raoul breathed. "We have to hide; the muraes will find us here."

I shook my head. "I won't leave him out in the open."

"I want to go looking at the sky."

My brother didn't protest.

I bent down, grabbing onto my father's hand.

It was cold.

Acid burned in the back of my throat. I gasped, slowing my breaths.

One hand on my father's, the other on the ground, I spoke the last spell I would speak. "Antato."

Instead of a hand, I held a fistful of dirt.

Raoul grabbed my shoulder. "What did you do?"

I stood, body shaking. "I buried him. It was fast, but..."

He placed his hand on my back. "It was enough. Come with me, before the muraes come back."

I didn't move.

Muraes.

Rage bubbled up in my chest.

I'd kill them all, whether it resulted in my death or not.

Raoul started to move, pausing when I froze. He took my hand, skin warm and sweaty.

"Please, Clair. We need to go."

With one last glance to Dad's makeshift grave, I took my brother's hand and followed him. 

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

So, this was the chapter that convinced me I wanted to write this story in the first place. It changed multiple times, like, at first, William and Clair were going to be in a jail cell, then her father got put in, and to take them out of the cell (and not kill them) he turned and wound up dying. Clair's father was also a different character when I started writing, but now he's changed to Eryk Maktevos, who has a bit of a violent backstory. It's not exactly the chapter I wanted it to be, but I still relatively enjoyed writing it. 

Death scenes are my fave, y'all. Sorry.