Weston moved on to the remaining soldier, their blades clashing in a brief exchange before the knight withdrew and the soldier fell to the ground, clutching his thigh as blood pumped from the open wound.

“You son of a bitch,” the dying man said, half disbelief as he struggled to stave off the spouting blood.

Had she not just witnessed the death of her entire family, this sudden act of violence might have shocked her. As it stood, Kasandra felt numb. She saw the pain in Weston’s face as he stared down at the dying man and felt a wave of guilt hit her. It only intensified as she realized how relieved she felt.

“I’m sorry my friend,” whispered Weston before he turned to Kasandra, clearing his throat before he spoke, “Let’s get you to the study.”

She nodded, unable to speak lest her voice break and she ruin the image of authority she’d taken on.

“With me,” Weston called, leading them through one of the back hallways.

Minutes after they fled, Kasandra heard the distant sound of triumph as the Heivites broke though. She watched the men around her, seeing the realization hit each of them as their only way out of the palace was cut off.

If she didn’t find something in her mother’s study, she had effectively consigned them all to death.

As they came upon the antechamber leading into her mother’s study, Weston called out to his men, “Hold here. They’ll not realize we’ve gone a different route until they reach the stables. We’ll buy the Queen time to find what she needs.”

Kasandra’s eyes found Weston’s and she saw the desperation there. In his mind, he’d just led what remained of his men to die. And he’d done it for her.She couldn’t stop herself from reaching out and holding his hand, warm and sticky with blood.

“Thank you,” she said, squeezing his hand and rising on her feet to kiss his cheek.

For a moment, his face softened and she saw the young boy she remembered from her childhood. The same youth that had saved her from all the imaginary beasts and villains when the world was not so cruel. Now the villains were real.

Shouts called out from down the hallway they’d come and the boy was gone, replaced by the warrior he’d become.

“Go, my lady. We will hold as long as we can.”

Weston strode out to stand at the front of his men, eyes fixed on the only route into the room.

Kasandra tore her blurring gaze away from her companion and hurried into the next room. Swinging the door closed sent a hollow echo throughout the study. She’d only ever seen this place from the antechamber, never realizing just how small it really was. Her imagination created a vast room filled with hidden chambers and small alcoves where secret knowledge could be gained. Instead, she found herself standing before a room, little larger than the antechamber she’d left behind, covered in bookshelves. A few lounging chairs were tastefully placed while a single desk rested at the other end.

She felt the weight of her actions with every disappointed step. She had thought to find a trove of secrets that might help her awaken the Gift inside her. The power her mother had been so fearful of. Yet all she was could see were old books in an oddly lit, windowless room.

There was a faint whisper ahead of her. A voice, of sorts, but distant, faded. Kasandra looked up in the direction of the sound and stopped.

Rather than candelabras illuminating the room, as she expected, Kasandra found herself staring at specifically placed blue stones. Each emanating a pale light throughout the room, though she knew not how. Connecting them were ever shifting tendrils of light. She followed the strange lights as the tendrils seemed to coalesce at one point above the desk at the other end of the room. Something about it drew her forward, as if a voice called her name, clarifying as she drew closer to the main source of the light.

The central stone was larger than the rest, held in place by silver lattice work that wound down the wall to the desk below. Something lay there, slowly pulsating. Each pulse reflected in the stones around the room.

Sudden cries rose up behind her. The clash of steel and screams of the dying as battle was joined in the antechamber. The Heivites had found them.

Kasandra picked up her pace, approaching the source at her mother’s desk, the voice growing stronger the closer she got until she could hear her name loud and clear. There, laying atop a small pedestal on the desk, was a glass-like shard, similar color to the stones around the room.

Suddenly, the voice seemed to rush toward her.

Embrace me Daughter of Flame. Embrace me and Awaken, it hissed.

Kasandra froze as the disembodied whisper echoed in her mind. Dread filled her heart at the sound of it. There was no doubt that there was something sinister there, hiding within this shard. Her mother had spoken of a price, but she had no clue what it would be, or how much it would cost.

She could hear Weston shouting somewhere beyond, but couldn’t look away from the pulsating shard. His voice breaking as he ordered his men to hold while someone pounded on the door, begging for salvation.

Embrace me and save them.

Her hands shaking, Kasandra reached out.An image popped into her mind and in that moment she knew what had to be done.

Kasandra gripped the shard, breath coming out in a panicked rush as she gathered her courage. She pictured her mother and father, her brothers, all dead at the hands of those who broke their word. The many servants and soldiers who’d died in those moments of betrayal.

She pictured Weston…

With one quick motion, she thrust the shard into her heart… and screamed.

*****

Ser Weston sagged against the overturned chair, watching his lifeblood pool on the marble floor. His men lay among the heaps of dead along with dozens of Heivites. He could hear more approaching, come to take the last of the line.

Come to take his Queen.

He glanced back at the doorway, wishing that he’d seen her one last time before the end.

This was a fool's errand, he’d known that even before he’d killed Tobias. Wasn’t right what he did, Tobias had been a good man, and a better friend. Yet it had been for Kasandra.

For her, he’d butcher the world.

He was sure he’d pay for his sins. The approaching footsteps guaranteed that.

Weston reached a hand up to his face where she’d kissed him, forgetting he was missing the fingers required to touch his cheek.

A voice called out and Weston looked to see more Heivites had arrived. They paused, seeing the terrible scene of carnage before them. His men had taken a heavy toll in such a small space. The blood had been unable to flow in any other direction but down the hall, forming path of gore leading these men to him.

Weston pushed himself up to his feet, searing agony flared in his chest where a sword thrust had punctured his breastplate.

He struggled for air, as he brought his sword up into a guard position. “They say traitors are sent to the lowest point of the Void,” Weston told them, “I’ve prepared a sample of what awaits. Join me, would you?”

There was a momentary pause as those in front took in the hellscape he’d created. Weston didn’t wait. Lurching forward, he severed the tendons in the first man’s sword arm and crushed another man’s skull with his pommel before they swarmed over him. Blades sank into his flesh and he lashed out, teeth bared like the dying animal he’d become. No thought for skill or deceit. He lashed out with all the power left in him.

All for her.

Then the pain faded, blades stopped entering him, and he fell to the ground.

He could still hear screams all around him, thinking this must be his first steps into the Void. Pale light flashed and hot gore splattered on his face. Weston blinked several times as he watched a Heivite soldier above him, held in place by a tendril of pale blue light, before a similar hued stone was thrust through his chest. The body was tossed away as the tendril of light sought another victim.

Weston pushed himself up, trying to see what was going on, but there was no more strength in him and he fell back. The world began to spin before fading. The screams died away and soon he felt like he was floating. He opened his eyes, as pale light surrounded him.

Then she was there.

His eyes blurred as he tried to focus on Kasandra’s face. Something had changed, her eyes had grown white, her skin so pale…

“My Lady,” he whispered, but a cold finger pressed against his lips.

“Hush my knight, you’ve done well,” she said, a strange voice seemed to follow just behind her words.

He tried to speak again, but found himself drifting, only to feel a cold shock enter his chest, drawing him back.

For a moment, his vision cleared and he could see that he was held aloft by the same tendrils of pale blue light. Large stones floated all about them while the bodies of dead Heivites covered the walls and floors, torn apart by means beyond mortal man. Kasandra floated with him, beckoning one of the stones toward them.

“Poor Weston,” she said, caressing his face. “You’ve ruined yourself for me.”

He nodded, staring up at the new Kasandra, mind unable to comprehend what he was seeing.

Drawing a pale sliver from one of the floating stones and holding it out before him she said, “Would you serve me, my knight. Would you give yourself beyond what you already have?”

Weston stared into her changed visage, the cold gaze in her eyes. A part of him knew that she had delved into something terrible. Some power beyond what the Creator designed. And yet, she was still Kasandra.

He nodded.

She smiled, dark lips pulling back to reveal too white teeth, “Embrace me.”

Weston somehow found the strength to rise, just as she thrust the sliver into his chest. Cold, terrible pain flowed through him, drawing out a scream from his broken lips.

Ice flowed through his veins as newfound power rushed into his body. The pain subsided and the tendrils slowly drew him to the ground. Weston felt renewed, alive, and every ounce of hate Kasandra felt for the enemy in their city. He could sense her desire for revenge, for justice, and a craving for power he’d never imagined she contained.

“Are you prepared for what lay ahead, my knight?” she asked.

He gazed up at his Queen, at the terrible beauty she was, and kneeled in the vast pool of blood.

“As you command, my Queen.”