26

  The sight of Halluburg was lost. A place where Diborn was tortured was no more. It now belonged to the Specters. Omar sat on top of a roof, higher into the resident area of Diborn seeing Dragni take Aether from the plains of the void. The realm didn’t shatter however, the magic of this void had been harnessed still.

  Omar sighed, watching the new group of Specters join Dragni now. Every single one of them churned and prepared to see to it their mission succeeded. Even from the distance Omar was from the center of Halluburg, the world was in peril. That is the most obvious. The Specters had broken their shackles for the Diborn. What may be a great thing, could very well be something entirely devastating for the world of man.

  Rain fell upon Halluburg for the first time in its existence. The Diborn gathered laughed and celebrated in the rain. Dragni flung Aether’s head like a plaything, feeling more eyes upon him, he turned to the resident area nearly above the void clouds and laughed. “Dragni…” Omar muttered seeing Dragni toy with the head in his direction.

  “If Aether is dead, then the Pale may not be far behind their grasp.” Omar jumped from the rooftop to a balcony made of quartz stone. He shut a glass door behind him, but Dragni’s eyes were still on him.

  Omar coughed, seeing the warm fire in the living area brighten the dim void Halluburg found itself in. “I cannot fail here,” Omar whispered.

  “Failure is such an overplayed thing in our world.” A voice declared.

  The balcony door creaked behind Omar, as the sound barely reached him. Omar stopped at the doorway, hesitant, unsure what he was to expect. Certainly not this. The voice of a man standing before him was a living shadow dangling his arms across the brown sofa. The fire burned brighter in front of him, sitting like he had a place in the Marshall’s manor. He made himself at home like he belonged. Perhaps, he did.

  Omar didn’t hear him come in, nor see him move. Omar studied his body and everything around him to ensure it wasn’t an illusion. The beautiful woven clothes of the royal man screamed out his wealth. He wanted to be seen for who he was. The odd precision of his postured worried Omar.

  The man waited for him to enter and make his way towards the couch. “Brother.” Dante patted the seat next to him.

  Omar rolled his eyes, walking in front of the flames Dante continued to view like a projection. “You know not to call me that.” Omar crossed his arms, stern and upright about their relationship. He closed off any chance of allowing the distance between them to be shrunk.

  Dante chuckled, raising his brows, not shocked by Omar’s stance. “Ah yes.” He sipped from a coffee mug. “A bastard. That I am.” He laughed amused by his stance, swirling the drink in his mug. “How foolish of me to forget, your highness.”

  Outside the manor, a parade in the wake of Aether rocks the residence. The Diborn collectively march the streets carrying the fallen corpse of the void god. Dragni continued to lead them through Halluburg. Omar searched out his window and the very sigil portals that he despised were being erased from existence. Dragni continued to defy the gods who built this place to stop Diborn from assuming power.

  Another explosion rocked the manor, as the sigil gateways fell from the heights of the void city to the unknown. The Diborn cheered on Leonidas and Dragni who led the charge. Shay joined them from a distance, using bombs to send more nightmare realms to the abyss.

  The floorboard under Omar’s feet creaked. He leaned against the window, worry spread all across his face. He gazed around at his enemies takeover. The darkness that lived in Halluburg had been replaced by another greater evil. Minutes passed. Or maybe just seconds, the air became dense. The fire cackled, Dante still tapping the seat for Omar.

  “It must be hard.” Dante muttered.

  “Excuse me?” Omar snapped back a response. He moved from the window right in front of his half-brother.

  “It must be hard, being graced with trying to save a dying world. What Dragni is doing…” Dante paused, maneuvering his hands together. His glance narrowed, followed by a deep thought to find the right words.

  “It shows you how wrong our father’s path was.” Dante burrowed his anger, tilting his head at Omar. “You follow his crusade to erase the Diborn, beings he made us and our brothers, because you feel it is righteous.” Dante smirked. “How righteous is hiding away in a frozen hell, forever doomed?”

  “We aren’t hiding. The Specters do not control the Pale. Nor will they ever.” Omar insisted, still refusing against taking a seat, he pulled a chair from behind him. He turned it around, pressing his chest against the backrest of it. Omar leaned forward. “I find it hard to believe that someone as powerful as you can look away at all this.” He pointed to the window in misery.

  “My mother. Our sister – “

  Dante interrupted Omar with an abrupt thunderous clap of a shout. “Your sister. She has no blood of mine.” Dante pondered at his statement, rubbing his hands across his face. “Your family, is not my family. I was declared a bastard and shunned from you all. So, I chose to build myself up.” Dante rose from the sofa.

  “Now I found success and a place, you think I should willingly help you all, cause we share the same blood of a Deadman?” Dante dictated. His eyes were two full black moons staring back at Omar. “You all forgot of me, when I suffered my childhood. Not even when I sit here prepared to greet you am I welcomed. Instead I am bombarded by my presence being here.”

  The air crackled with tension between the two brothers. The kind of crack that carried weight heavier than the backlash of words. The manor around them was silent among the harsh wave of flames from the fire, spilling out, as if they eavesdropped on their argument. Both men’s voices were low and stern, like a glint of steel swords.

  Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

  Omar snarled, gripping the teeth of the wooden chair. “Because, right outside of here is a ancient evil, Dragni who sides with the Lotus Blade. Yet, you wish to speak about family disputes. You listen not for this world, but yourself. I always heard you were selfish, but to see you put things before the world shows character.”

  Dante scowled, frowned upon Omar’s shot. “You pity me? How low of you.” Dante brushed away his disapproving grin to control his emotions. His dreads swung wildly, while he searched for an answer to his brothers foolishness. “The Lotus Blade lives because of a consort. Our father died because you were a boy, who killed him!”

  The room became deathly quiet. Everything outside the manor muted, saved from the rhythmic drop of words from Dante. Omar’s heart sank like a pile of weights falling in a never-ending ocean of emotions. The high seas of internal feelings drastically were caught in the storm. Omar stood from his chair, sniffling in disbelief. Blood was on his hands, that red nectar stunk on his palms.

  The image of their father’s last breath drained from the moment the blade controlled Omar, shrieked in blood. He suffered once again internally, each time worse than the last. Dante back away shocked knowing the truth. It was not only the truth that haunted Omar, but the knife to the heart from betrayal.

  “You…” Omar’s words slivered out of his mouth barely. He searched his palms for the stench of blood from his father, yet when he looked at Dante’s they were dripping with stench. Responsibility from everything that has transpired since that night. The blood trail carried forth all the way to the doorstep of the sofa.

  Omar gulped down his words, as they were to heavy to vomit. “You are with them…” Betrayal turned his vision red. “You are aligned with them!”

  Omar rushed putting his hands around the neck of Dante. The surging speed of power dropped them both onto the couch was exhilarating. Omar’s eyes no longer were a desert. They were a rainforest of tears, as he gripped Dante’s neck, while the man tried to fight back.

  Dante’s vision blurred as he clawed for an escape, but the vice-grip of Omar wouldn’t suffice and let him escape. Years of misery where he blamed himself surfaced from his anger. Emotions hindered by his inability to save his father. All because of his brother.

  Omar’s strength was brutal. For the first time in so long, he announced his true strength to the world. Omar’s lips twisted with a sneer, his teeth bared down like a predator closing in for the kill.

  “Our family suffered because of you…” Omar cried out. His voice growled like a tiger, breath hot against Dante. “You will pay for this.”

  Dante’s lungs screamed for air. Omar pinned his knee on his chest. Dante’s hands scrambled for Omar’s face, peeling back his freedom. His little brothers grip didn’t falter. Black waves began to collapse his vision, blooming like a wild lotus flower. The sound of intense drums from a war band shook the manor. Dante’s senses dimmed.

  Desperation awoken in Dante. He moved his hands to his torso, towards the hilt of a golden dagger, strapped to his belt. Summoning the little strength he had left, he ripped it free and drove it upward into his brothers sternum with a frantic motion. He feared for his life. Dante’s eyes widened as he stuck the blade in Omar.

  The sheer aggressiveness of Omar didn’t feel the daggers presence at the initial thrust.

  Dante turned the blade, calling for Omar’s attention. He drove the blade further into the middle of his chest, finally releasing Omar’s death grip. Omar gasped for air, for a fraction of a second his grip loosened. Dante compiled all the air he could muster. Anger took over more than anything.

  Dante grunted, pushing the blade out of Omar’s chest and driving it into his lungs. A grunt of pain escaped his lips. Dante became desperate. His grunts moaned for it to be the end. He begged it out of Omar.

  The blade pushed deeper into Omar’s lung, until the hilt of its blade nearly caved in. Omar released his grip entirely. Dante broke free, flipping the couch in escape. He caught his wind sails back clutching his throat.

  Omar coughed violently. Omar slowly pulled the dagger out of his chest, screaming with a sickening gasp. Blood dripped from the blade, as he hurried back to on his dancing feet. Nearly falling from the two gashes.

  “Fuck you.” Omar wiped his scratched face. His steps deliberate to keep him on his feet. Both his onyx eyes burned with fury.

  Dante used the couch as a crutch to rise from the floor. His hand trembling as he reached for another dagger at his side. His throat ached, in a aurora of punctured colors. His breaths ragged, but gripped the dagger ready.

  “For to long, Celestial Garden and the Chronicler of the Lotus Wars has controlled Eurafalia.” Dante pointed the dagger at Omar. “No more I say. Today, marks the first day Diborn choose their destinies. We can be Kings and Queens if we desire. Why do you refuse that!”

  “In expense, humans die? I would rather protect this world from the few, than let millions die for your fucking greed!” Omar snapped, his voice rasped grabbing his chest wound.

  “I will not stand for this. Dragni will not stand for this. We will kill your pathetic family. We let Jai live in the heavens till he manifested his shard power.” Dante slivered his head with a nod. “Now, when I finish you, he will be next on my to kill list. Then, your whore mother and Maeve. Or those Vikings. Maybe after all that, I will see your Princess. Luna is it?” Dante smirked with a glimmer of sarcasm.

  “You wont touch anyone.” Omar picked up the knife. “I will end you before you even have a chance to. Brother…” Determination filled his face, being the protector he is.

  Dante dropped his guard. He shrugged his shoulders with a hint of laughter. “No need. We already won this battle.” His unreadable expression confused Omar, until a knife into his back made it clear.

  Omar grunted in pain. His eyes shut and reopened as he turned behind him, he saw the gray hand rested on his shoulder, lodging the knife deeper into his heart. The assassins posture tensed when Omar met his glare. Guilt spread around him, but he lodged it further into his heart, disputing years of effort built into what once was.

  “Shay…?” Omar’s face resonated with betrayal. The dark elf couldn’t meet his stare. He pulled the knife out and kicked Omar to the ground.

  “Sorry. But the only ones who win here are our kind. Anyone who is against us, will fall to their knees.” Shay stated, as Omar dropped before Dante. Shay made it to Dante’s side as they looked down at Omar.

  Dante slapped Omar’s cheek. “Remember how you said you were going to kill me. Dream. Just like we are now. When you wake up, remember the reaility you live in. We are no heroes. We are painted as monsters for a reason.” The knife played around Omar’s throat.

  “No Diborn can be a hero of man.” Shay added, turned towards the horizon.

  A sharp, searing pain lanced through Omar. Piercing his heart. His breath hindered as he felt the gut punches both men delivered.

  “When you wake, tell those in your revolution against us, who to fear. The new King.” Dante rose from Omar. The large phantom tiger revealed itself from Dante’s snap. It roared louder than ever, stalking Omar as prey. “Remember you choose this path.” Dante laughed. “Now suffer.”

  “Edindale will be ours little brother. Whether by force or surrender. We will create a new dawn.” The tiger in a flurry widened its jaw and everything turned black.

  Omar woke from his slumber in broad daylight in the center of the courtyard, beside Magnus and Natasha. Both noticed his faint expression, as he searched for danger around them. Sweat dripped from his face, while students hurried pass them for class. Magnus noticed the worry on Omar’s face as all he could muster was the truth.

  “The Diborn are on the move.” He exclaimed.