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I stared at the man on my throne. How cheeky. He sat there serenely, watching my approach with a slight smile that was completely unlike him. His body was relaxed as if he belonged in that chair, I won't stand for it. I walked up the stairs leading to the throne and stared down at him. "Care to explain?" I said, cutting right to the chase. I felt my face burn as he smiled more in amusement.
"I knew you would say that," he murmured.
I coughed lightly. "Get out."
"No."
I stared at him, my mouth slightly agape. I quickly composed myself, tightening my hand around the jewel on my cane. "What did you-"
"I said no," he murmured in the same infuriating voice. My eye twitched as I found myself at a lost for words. This man with no noble blood who thinks he can do as likes because he's favored by my father is- "I know where your train of thought is going, Kjhaag. I can see it in the way you scrunch up your face. It's the face you made all the time when we were kids. And now it's your superior-than-thou look."
"That's enough, general!" I snapped, ignoring the fact that he was right. "Get out of my throne, you're lucky I'm-"
"Your throne? I'm sorry, I thought your father was King."
"Which is exactly why you need to get out!" I yelled. "You are a damn soldier not a-"
"We both know he wished I was his heir…" he murmured. I lunged for him, my hands grabbing for his throat. How dare he!
I gasped as I fell, my back painfully hitting the stairs. I looked up, attempting to mask my shock and anger, as he stood over me. "Did you think you could beat me, Prince?" he muttered. I began to pick myself up, my retort on the tip of my tongue but fell back as his fist slammed into my chest, sending me down the stairs. I curled onto my side, the air knocked out of me.
He stepped down the stairs, slipping his gloves off his hands. I reached for my fallen cane but he picked it up. "Interesting… isn't it?" he said inspecting the griffin figurine. "That this and my sword could be twins. Yours reflecting Eyrd, mine Iuk." I ignored his gaze on my back as I ran for the door.
This isn't right, something's wrong with him! He's never- The door slammed shut and I skidded to a stop as he stood in front of me. I jumped back as his sword sliced at me. I backed up, my eyes darting from the blocked door, to the windows, to the doors leading to the Royal chambers. "Don't. They're locked," he said stepping towards me. I felt the wall against my back, stopping my retreat.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" I spat as he pointed his sword to my chest. "You really think they'll let you live after you kill me?!"
"Yes I do…" he said. I spun to the side as his sword dived into the wall. He ripped it out and turned to me as I ran for the cane he had dropped by the throne. I snatched it up, grabbing the jewel and pulling the sword out. I dropped the gold casing that served as the cane and spun right as he swung at me. The impact of his thick sword hitting my thin rapier sent a jolt through my arm, pushing me back. He swung again with precisions, knocking the sword out of my grip. He grabbed my shoulder and pinned me to the stairs, pulling his sword back.
"Dsvarg don't-!" Pain exploded as I felt the metal rip through my chest. He pulled it out to my screaming. I lay on the stairs, feeling the pool of blood grow underneath me. He straightened up, my blood staining his shirt. I tried to speak, to make sense of things, but nothing came out. I watched with clouding eyes as he knocked things over, broke expensive vases. I slip down a few stairs, trying to get up. He looked back once as he opened the door to leave. One thought was in my head. Why?

Dsvarg stood next to the King in the ruined throne room. The Prince's body was at their feet. His eyes misted over. "Has anyone informed the Queen?" Ghebaas asked.
"No, your majesty," Dsvarg murmured.
The King stared down at his son. "The Nameless?" Dsvarg nodded. They both looked up as the Queen ran in, her shawl falling from her shoulders. She fell to her knees with a sob and held her son's body. Dsvarg glanced at the King's face, but saw nothing. As the Queen's screams of "Why?!" remained unanswered, the King strode from the room, preparing for war.
Dsvarg stared at the Prince's empty eyes, the image of his face as the sword plunged into his chest not leaving his mind. He reminded himself that he had been following orders. But the small voice in the back of his head kep wondering if he had wanted to do it. If he had wanted to replace Kjhaag as Ghebaas' heir.
He told himself no.

Description
I stared at the man on my throne. How cheeky. He sat there serenely, watching my approach with a slight smile that was completely unlike him. His body was relaxed as if he belonged in that chair, I won't stand for it. I walked up the stairs leading to the throne and stared down at him. "Care to explain?" I said, cutting right to the chase. I felt my face burn as he smiled more in amusement.
"I knew you would say that," he murmured.
I coughed lightly. "Get out."
"No."
I stared at him, my mouth slightly agape. I quickly composed myself, tightening my hand around the jewel on my cane. "What did you-"
"I said no," he murmured in the same infuriating voice. My eye twitched as I found myself at a lost for words. This man with no noble blood who thinks he can do as likes because he's favored by my father is- "I know where your train of thought is going, Kjhaag. I can see it in the way you scrunch up your face. It's the face you made all the time when we were kids. And now it's your superior-than-thou look."
"That's enough, general!" I snapped, ignoring the fact that he was right. "Get out of my throne, you're lucky I'm-"
"Your throne? I'm sorry, I thought your father was King."
"Which is exactly why you need to get out!" I yelled. "You are a damn soldier not a-"
"We both know he wished I was his heir…" he murmured. I lunged for him, my hands grabbing for his throat. How dare he!
I gasped as I fell, my back painfully hitting the stairs. I looked up, attempting to mask my shock and anger, as he stood over me. "Did you think you could beat me, Prince?" he muttered. I began to pick myself up, my retort on the tip of my tongue but fell back as his fist slammed into my chest, sending me down the stairs. I curled onto my side, the air knocked out of me.
He stepped down the stairs, slipping his gloves off his hands. I reached for my fallen cane but he picked it up. "Interesting… isn't it?" he said inspecting the griffin figurine. "That this and my sword could be twins. Yours reflecting Eyrd, mine Iuk." I ignored his gaze on my back as I ran for the door.
This isn't right, something's wrong with him! He's never- The door slammed shut and I skidded to a stop as he stood in front of me. I jumped back as his sword sliced at me. I backed up, my eyes darting from the blocked door, to the windows, to the doors leading to the Royal chambers. "Don't. They're locked," he said stepping towards me. I felt the wall against my back, stopping my retreat.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" I spat as he pointed his sword to my chest. "You really think they'll let you live after you kill me?!"
"Yes I do…" he said. I spun to the side as his sword dived into the wall. He ripped it out and turned to me as I ran for the cane he had dropped by the throne. I snatched it up, grabbing the jewel and pulling the sword out. I dropped the gold casing that served as the cane and spun right as he swung at me. The impact of his thick sword hitting my thin rapier sent a jolt through my arm, pushing me back. He swung again with precisions, knocking the sword out of my grip. He grabbed my shoulder and pinned me to the stairs, pulling his sword back.
"Dsvarg don't-!" Pain exploded as I felt the metal rip through my chest. He pulled it out to my screaming. I lay on the stairs, feeling the pool of blood grow underneath me. He straightened up, my blood staining his shirt. I tried to speak, to make sense of things, but nothing came out. I watched with clouding eyes as he knocked things over, broke expensive vases. I slip down a few stairs, trying to get up. He looked back once as he opened the door to leave. One thought was in my head. Why?

Dsvarg stood next to the King in the ruined throne room. The Prince's body was at their feet. His eyes misted over. "Has anyone informed the Queen?" Ghebaas asked.
"No, your majesty," Dsvarg murmured.
The King stared down at his son. "The Nameless?" Dsvarg nodded. They both looked up as the Queen ran in, her shawl falling from her shoulders. She fell to her knees with a sob and held her son's body. Dsvarg glanced at the King's face, but saw nothing. As the Queen's screams of "Why?!" remained unanswered, the King strode from the room, preparing for war.
Dsvarg stared at the Prince's empty eyes, the image of his face as the sword plunged into his chest not leaving his mind. He reminded himself that he had been following orders. But the small voice in the back of his head kep wondering if he had wanted to do it. If he had wanted to replace Kjhaag as Ghebaas' heir.
He told himself no.