The ice spear: no technique or weapon is more synonymous with Stygians than what many believe to be their greatest creation. A technique that was used to end an entire civilization, a technique as destructive as it is beautiful. A technique designed to be unstoppable. Guinevere was far too familiar with it, her brother had mastered it when he was only fifteen and a technique he used during the Storm Island rebellions, to slay the Storm Lords, Modi and Magni. It was a technique that once it was mastered, the wielder was often said to be a true Stygian. Even at the distance she could see how the air around the spear froze. But even she could tell the technique was incomplete. Rather she hoped it was given how much damage she had inflicted upon him.

  Bracca threw the spear with all his might. The jagged edges of the spear mirroring his own soul. The force in which he threw it, made the winds howl in agony. The impact upon Guinevere caused a massive explosion that paled in comparison to everything seen before. The force was so great that a great wind storm arose from the point of impact. The path the spear took was frosted with massive pillars of ice sticking out of the ground. A large cloud of cold air made it difficult to see. Soldiers gasped and murmured for the first time, uncertain of the outcome. Melina looked away, finally reaching her limit with the battle.

  "How can you watch this so calmly?" Melina said, holding back tears.

  "We were commanded not to interfere, by our ge-" began Ursula.

  "she is our friend!" yelled Melina.

  "And we are knights Melina!" Ursula snapped, immediately regretting her decision.

  She was just as worried as Melina, perhaps even more so. Several times now she would have jumped into the battle had the order not been given. As much as she loved princess Guinevere she respected general Guinevere far more and she would do nothing to sully that honor, even if it meant watching her closest friend die. She harbored no ill will towards Melina, she rather wanted to commend the restraint that she showed to simply watch. She turned to speak to her close friend.

  "Listen Melina I'm s-" Ursula could not finish for she was interrupted by the indomitable laughter of the man below who claimed victory.

  "Antares! Do you see? Have I not proven worthy to die by your blade? The new world you wish to create that my father rejects. I reject it as well if it means such desecration of our ways. Antares do you see!" Bracca roared into the air as he walked around. Unable to contain his elation at killing the king-to-be's sister.

  He turned to face his father and their castle.

  "Father! This is how you should have faced your enemies. Not crawling around in the shadows like a human, we are Stygian! We do not hide, we take what is ours! I will kill Antares for you and that bastard of a snake he calls brother." Bracca's elation becoming unquenchable.

  Bracca made his way towards his younger brother, Gray who had fear in his eyes, his gaze locked on who stood behind his brother in the distance. Such paralyzing fear charged the air, Bracca's senses were overloaded with the imminent threat of death. It was as though his body was gripped by thousands of arms, none wished to let him go. He had yet to turn around but he knew such terrifying bloodlust came from something behind him. It had been a century since he last felt this sensation.

  "Barranagan!?" Bracca turned with such force almost falling over. He did not realize he uttered the name of the late king until he saw whom such vile hatred came from.

  "Sorry to disappoint but my father is... is gone forever..."

  "I-Impossible," Bracca took a step back.

  His gaze widened upon the battered and bloodied, red hair wolf and what she held in her jaws. What filled him with staggering fear was not that she had survived, for few yet in his time had escaped such an attack. No. What gave him pause was the manner in which she survived. Guinevere's eyes followed Bracca's.

  "Oh this? Truth be told, I did not think I would be fast enough to move out of the way, so catching it felt like the only path forward." Guinevere could not help but laugh.

  The words she spoke were true. Her mangled ankle limited her mobility greatly. Her broken arm further reduced her ability. So for Guinevere the only other course of action for her was to stop the spear in its tracks. She would not admit this to Bracca but she did not catch the spear with her eyes, instead her body that had been pushed further than she would have liked instinctively reacted to protect itself from absolute death. In that moment, Guinevere called out every ounce of strength she held within her. In her desire, her will to live far exceeded the immense power behind the spear and as the spear threatened to skewer her she stopped its advancement with all her might.

  All those around who witnessed the greatness of their general gasped in admiration. Ursula and Melina were not immune, a sense of relief washed over both of them and they exchanged looks of great elation. Yet both could not shake the sensation they felt a moment before, that crushing bloodlust that originated from Guinevere's position was like nothing they ever felt before.

  Guinevere flipped the spear and aimed it back towards Bracca. Steam began to rise around her destroyed ankle.

  "You think I will give you the opportunity to heal?" Bracca shook himself from his trance and moved with searing speed, but it was too late.

  Guinevere raised her now healed leg and planted it back down with enough force to move the ground. She threw the spear back at Bracca with such potency he was unable to dodge completely, The entire right side of his body was claimed by his own technique. Not satisfied, the spear crashed into the castle with a thunderous explosion. Screams could be heard coming from the castle. Bracca stupidly turned his attention away from her back to the castle.

  "No!" he screamed and turned back to her eyes glowing full of rage. "You-"

  She was gone.

  "May you abandon this anger you carry on your way to our ancestors." she appeared behind him, placing her hands on his head.

  The first and last thought that crossed Bracca's mind was how soft Guinevere's hands were. She snapped his neck with enough effort it tore right off. The shockwave reverberated throughout the entire field and nothing could be heard except the screams coming from the castle. Guinevere looked at her hands covered in the blood of her kin. She could not stop shaking, this was the first time she took the life of someone who looked like her. She hated how it made her feel. She struggled to remain standing, a few steps filled with labored breathing and she nearly collapsed.

  "I have you," whispered Ursula as she embraced her general.

  Guinevere allowed herself a moment to catch her breath, this was not a fight she thought she could win. Bracca's hubris was the sole reason she still remained in this world. But for the first time as she slowly healed herself she understood the distance in power between her brother and herself, for the first time in five years she could grasp that power she sought. Through gritted teeth she allowed herself to smile if only briefly.

  "T-This fight is not over!" Grey barked through gritted teeth himself.

  Guinevere turned around to look at the young Stygian whose blade was pointed at them. Grey's face held back tears masked with fear and hatred. Just as he was unsure what to make of this, so too was Guinevere. Melina crossed in front of his path with her hand on her sheathed blade. Her playful demeanor, now one of focused malice.

  "Melina stop," Guinevere struggled to her feet, she had used far too much mana to heal herself too quickly.

  She locked eyes with the young boy, she wished to not have to spill anymore blood of her kin. She more than anyone understood Grey was motivated by duty and revenge, a mixture that had brought about ruin of many of their people. She would not deprive a young Stygian of a future, she knew if she explained it to her brother he would spare him. The battle had already been won.

  "Grey, please listen to me. I am truly sorry, hate me if you will but please stop." Guinevere pleaded with the boy.

  Her words confused him, his resolve seeming to weaken, he had known of the Red Wolf of the north for some time. And although he had been taught to hate the royal family, he could not bring himself to hate Guinevere, for he admired her more than even his own brother. In his most secluded moments his thoughts were filled with nothing but joining her army, being one of her most loyal soldiers vanquishing those who would threaten the crown. But the reality before him was that the person who he most admired, brought death to his door. He was duty bound as the last living heir to face her in combat. Guinevere took a step towards him, her hands exposed, Grey steeled himself.

  "I do not wish to spill any more blood today, none more than your own. Come with me, bring your family, and I will talk to my brother." She began, her eyes full of sincerity. "I swear it on my honor as a knight, you are safe under my protection."

  Grey's resolve faltered under the words of his princess. His head swirled with different thoughts, each one crippling him, unable to spur himself to action. All his life he had wished for independence to do as he saw fit free of control from his father or his brother. But now no longer under their shadow, free to choose his own path he was unsure what to do, the weight of his own life filled within the cold Stygian Steel blade he held tightly. He began to lower his sword. Guinevere could see he was vulnerable, if she could approach him and coax the sword away from him it would be over. She never stopped looking at him as she approached, which is why when Grey was split in half down the middle and as his blood sprayed across her face she was close enough to hear the whispered final words of the last son of Aldios the betrayer.

  "Lady Guinevere help me."

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  Four words were uttered, and they were enough for her to lose all reason.

  "What a disgusting child."

  She did not need to see who spoke those words, it made no difference. She would kill them all the same, she swung around with so much force, the intensity of her fist generated with its small embers, her fire giant heritage making itself known for a mere moment. She would vaporize whoever was responsible for this transgression, for the slaughter of a boy who had no desire to fight. The power that welled within her fist was incomparable to anything she had demanded of herself during her fight with Bracca, for she did not know such power within her remained after almost escaping with her life. Such rage could not easily be reigned in once released a phenomena that Guinevere was all too aware of herself so as her fist made impact with the open palm that stopped her strike, the shockwave was enough to bring her out of the madness that consumed her.

  "Are you stupid?" he asked earnestly.

  Guinevere regained her senses, upon locking eyes with the man who so effortlessly stopped her fist, her heart sank and her knees followed.

  "Gwen!" both Melina and Ursula yelled in unison rushing towards her.

  The man gently still held her fist in his hand, her eyes still meeting his. Many thoughts swirled through her head as she tried to wrap her head around what was happening, her mind was dominated by the fear that had washed over her. The man before her should not have been here, he had no reason to be here at this very moment. He should have been at the castle, anywhere but here and yet still she could feel the cold emanating from his palm that grasped her hand gently.

  "Are. You. Stupid?" the man repeated again slowly, sounding out his words.

  Guinevere could not speak, her words caught in her throat, she knew not what to say to him, how to address him. Guinevere had always been calculating in her approach to anything that was presented in front of her, she had no choice. The position bestowed upon her by her father was one that many may have acknowledged in her presence but she knew what was said of her between those marble walls that she called home. She knew she would not be afforded the same luxuries as other princesses, especially those who rejected their birthright and wished to pick up the blade. And so every action had to have been made with thought and care. And for only the second time as a general, Guinevere allowed her emotions to dictate her actions and it cost her dearly.

  "My sons!" Aldios came running out of his castle.

  A stark comparison of the man who so earlier was confident in the victory of his sons. To see them and those sworn to defend his house laid scattered across him. The ground soaked with the blood of his seed. He broke into delirious ramblings. He cradled Grey's corpse trying in vain to put his youngest back together as tears streamed down the face of the old Stygian, unable to control himself. Shouts began to ring out from the castle as more of his family began to pour out to see the massacre of the heirs, even in the distance Omiros could no longer remain within the castle he and his family surrounded by guards.

  "Stay back!" Aldios shouted towards his family. Waving them back inside.

  It was far too late, he had damned them all. The snap of fingers drowned out all other sounds, as though for a moment that single act commanded everything to obey. And above his castle a violent deluge of mana began to form, and from it an ice spear, bigger than Aldios had ever seen, bigger than he thought possible. He did not have time to look away, nor was there time to plead with the man who had in such a short time become his God. The thought of perhaps praying to him, begging him would be enough to stop him, but the old Stygian had lived long enough to know such acts were not understood by their kind. The act of prayer could only be understood by one who sought something, and the man next to him wanted nothing, cared for nothing but his duty. Aldios watched as the massive ice spear fell with such precision upon his castle. For one moment, all he heard was the screams and for the next it was silence.

  Aldios finally understood why the elders were so uninterested, why they never once objected to his actions. He had believed they saw what he did was for the betterment of all Stygians that he wished to usher them into a new age, a golden era, but deep down within his own soul he knew that wasn't it. For never once did they view him as an equal, as one of them. It was all merely to pass the time, for this is what they had always planned for him to take the throne. He allowed his hubris to play into the hands of his elders and for that his family paid a king's ransom. Aldios turned to look up at him but all he saw was an open palm, a painful smile cracked across his face. Even in his final moments he would not be given the dignity of knowing who it was that did this. He hoped death would be quick and it was.

  The man turned away from the frozen corpse of the betrayer, his attention towards the women now. Winter storm filled eyes looked upon them running shivers down their spines. He dressed in standard Stygian attire, a deep purple showing he served members of the royal family. He covered himself with a black haori embroiled with a golden snake that curled all the way to his shoulder. An expressionless cold face approached them, his slow movement allowed for Guinevere to properly gauge his appearance. She had only seen him a handful of times and yet all the same she found herself always uncomfortable by him. The chain that linked his earring to his nose ring glimmered in the sunlight, a radiance that permeated throughout his entire being. Guinevere shook free of Ursula and brought herself to her knees and bowed deeply, Ursula and Melina did the same, and so did the army, one hundred strong, behind them.

  "L-Lord Azariah I-I," Guinevere struggled to speak, sweat pouring down her face. Of all the people who could be here, for it to be him scared her.

  "Did I give you permission to speak?" Azariah tilted his head to the side. He gazed at the battered general, half surprised she still lived.

  Guinevere remained silent.

  "Was that all of them?"

  "Y-yes... my lord," from the corner of her eye she could see anger building on Melina's face.

  "Very well, you will return to the castle," he finished.

  "Melina n-" Ursula began, but it was too late the young Stygian would not allow her general to be dishonored further.

  "You can not talk to her like that. She is a general and your princess." Melina stood to her feet.

  "Is that so?"

  "Yes, and furthermore what right do you have to be here? To interrupt, we have orders from the ki-"

  "Do you know why it is so hard to kill a Stygian?" Azariah held two fingers to Melina's forehead as she reached for her blade. "Do not bother, you would be dead before you could unsheathe it."

  Melina was paralyzed by fear, she never once stopped looking at the Lord of War and all the same he closed the gap between them so effortlessly. In her attempt to defend her general, her friend, she had forgotten that the man they spoke to was one of the very few that were considered to be at the pinnacle of their culture.

  "It is the brain." Azariah continued, "More specifically, the right side of it. There is a tiny thing in there hidden behind an eons worth of evolution that allows us to heal any injury. Well almost any injury. What do you think would happen if I plucked it out of your skull?"

  Guinevere rose to her feet quickly.

  "Lord Azariah please, she forgot herself. It will not happen again," she pleaded. Ursula bowed her head in agreement.

  "Of that I will make sure," he began to press slightly against her temple.

  "If you do this you will regret it." Guinevere shouted, looking to the floor.

  "Is that a threat?" Azariah stopped and turned towards her, his curiosity sparked. "What will you do? General?" stressing the last word he said mockingly.

  "I will kill you," she said flatly.

  "You think you ca-"

  "And I will die before I can," she continued, "But, you will have to explain to my brother, your king and to Siegfried why you killed me and all my men."

  Even without eyebrows, Azariah managed to still give off a sour expression. His mission here was only to observe Guinevere and to intervene when he saw fit. The death of everyone else could be excused, but not the death of the princess, no matter his disdain for her lack of willpower, she was still the sister to Antares. He would not dishonor him in such a way, not on the eve of his ascension. He pulled his hand away gingerly from Melina and tucked it back inside his haori.

  "You would threaten me, despite your failures here today? To offer clemency to those who wished your king dead? Is your honor that much greater than your duty to the king?" Azariah demanded of Guinevere.

  He had watched the whole incident unfold from the beginning. They were unaware of his presence as he intended. Multiple times he wished to intervene but refrained from spoiling what he thought would finally be Guinevere's opportunity to prove herself as a useful tool for what was to come. But once again her weakness was all but apparent, admittedly he did not think she would have been able to kill both Davos and Bracca with the latter once being a candidate for becoming a Lord of War. Her fighting prowess was never what was questioned, it had always been her will, to do what was required, to Azariah, Guinevere was a beast without fangs, an animal to be allowed to roam about the palace, but not one to be called upon for battle. He wished Siegfried and specifically Antares would see her for what she truly was; human.

  "My duty to the king is absolute!" Guinevere yelled back. " But I also have honor as a knight. I swore that Grey would be unharmed when he lowered his weapon!"

  Anger began to bubble within her once more, Grey's death would weigh heavy on her. She gave him her word as a knight that he would be safe and Azariah ruined that. His indifference of Grey and those who were merely hiding in the castle disgusted her. She was no stranger to what the Lords of War were and what they represented but this was not what she was taught, to kill so mercilessly. So much blood had been spilt, so much Stygian blood and Azariah did not once hesitate in the slaughter of women and children. She wished her brother could see him and others like him for what they were; monsters.

  "And what? You would bring them back to the castle for what purpose?" Azariah looked at her with such intensity, Guinevere felt he might strike her. "Five years we have left you and your kind to rule Iliad and look at where we are, betrayal within our borders and our enemies mock us. Do you have any idea what is truly happening, what is coming? This was your opportunity to prove that you could be trusted, that you understood. And what did you do? Offer forgiveness to those who would kill us all."

  Ursula laid a hand on Guinevere's shoulder and shook her head. Guinevere unclenched her fists, there was no longer any point to this conversation. Both sides would not see eye to eye on the matter, the ground was already soaked with blood. All that was left was to ask the burning question that lay stuck in her throat.

  "Why are you here?" she asked through gritted teeth.

  Azariah looked upon the floor as a pool of blood reached his footwear.

  "Antares rightly had concerns about you completing the mission. Lord Siegfried arrived at the castle before me, they spoke and as I was making my way to the castle. Lord Siegfried sent me a message asking if I would keep an eye on things." His demeanor had changed now to focus on his slightly blood soaked shoes. He gingerly began walking away. "I have done my duty and will return now, finish yours and send the Butterfly to your king."

  She watched as one moment Azariah was there and the next moment he was gone. Such speed even faster than she could react. Ursula put her arms over her and carried her back towards her army, she turned once more to look at Grey who was cut in half and his father frozen solid as cracks began to form across his body. She looked back at the creator that was once a beautiful castle, then looked at the land littered in bodies and blood and thought to herself if this was the future her brother envisioned; kin killing kin. But then she looked at Ursula and then Melina and was glad they were safe. Her body felt heavy, the day's battles finally taking a toll on her. She did not know what to make of any of this and still Azariah's words rang true in her head, I have done my duty, now finish yours. She raised up her hand gently and stretched out a finger, from thin air a blue moon butterfly gently landed on her finger. It flapped its wings softly as though not to injure the tired princess and she smiled softly. She brought it closer to her mouth and spoke into it.