Fire Temple Arena
His mind screamed at him, over and over in a continuous loop, desperately attempting to convince him to stop, to halt his speech, to not say another word. But it accomplished nothing. He had already made up his mind.
The corner of Svorn's lips twitched, pulling up into a smile as his eyes curled upwards. His knees shook and gave as he collapsed next to Thorn, sliding his hands along the ground and twisting his head beneath Thorn's until their eyes met.
His smile grew even larger as tears bubbled around the corner of his eyes before dripping down. He reached up a hand, brushing them away before staring at his hand in disconcertment. A frown, but they kept coming. He looked up at Thorn, meeting such lifeless and deadened eyes, it was almost impossible to recognise his once brother.
Thorn's eyes didn't waver at his brother's absurd display, his body didn't move as Svorn's trembling arms reached up and circled Thorn's torso. Legs laying dormant beneath him, Svorn pressed his head into Thorn's scaled chest, watery cheeks soaking the scales in his tears.
As his arms pressed in harder, moving closer to the flames licking Thorn's back and forming wings, they became increasingly singed, a stray flame licking a burn into his arm. But Svorn didn't notice. He clutched tighter and more desperately to Thorn's still and silent form.
A small sob broke from his lips, trembling as they parted slightly and a whisper broke free. "Thank you..." Another shaken breath. "Thank you, thank you..."
The arms dripped off Thorn collapsing to the floor with a thud as Svorn's body caught him, drawing him away from Thorn slightly. He raised his head again, squinting through the particles of sun shrouding Thorn's head in a halo of light. His parted mouth revealed a small spiel of misted air in the streaks of light.
Pain began ebbing from his side once more, sparked by the sudden movements and accumulating slowly, building. However, Svorn didn't notice it. His senses were shut off, his mind was a whirlpool of focus, directed only at Thorn's next words.
Meanwhile, Thorn's mind was blank. His body was empty. Within him whirled only a pit of deep and pulsating grey.
He did not feel Svorn's hands, nor did he notice the desperate relief emanating from him. He was hollow. Everything he was, was hollow. He could not acknowledge his existence, he could not acknowledge the past, present or future, he could not acknowledge life or death. He had stopped. Everything had stopped.
After an impossible decision had forced his hand, he had given up everything he thought he was fighting for and placed himself entirely in the mercy of another's hands. And the worse thing was, he couldn't regret it. He couldn't feel anything. There was no difference. The idea of the world collapsing in on itself didn't bother him in the slightest. He didn't care.
And he couldn't accept that. He couldn't accept that fact about himself, how he truly felt the entire time he had been alive – because if he had once felt a caring about the world, even for a second, he surely would have felt something at the prospect of giving up everything.
Was he that selfish?
Was he that uncaring?
Was he that much of an evil, horrible person that he could feel nothing if the world was destroyed?
His eyes turned down towards Svorn, blank, unseeing. "I placed the potion in the centre of Desolator's Clearing, hidden under the ice in the same place as the treasure they're all looking for. It's extremely difficult to get to and surrounded by layers of invisible traps, but I don't know who your spies are. There's only enough left for one person.
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Frozen Flame
Fantasy[Finished and being edited] Once captured by a distraught king, a fierce warrior is forced to choose between saving his family or his country. But choices are never that simple. ...
