Butterfly Reign

7. I'll Be Waiting For An Answer

“You’re dead,” Tommy says. 

Unlike what most people think, Techno’s eyes are not red, but a very light shade of blue, surrounded by a thin ring of darker color. Depending on the lighting, its tone can vary from pink to crimson. “Are you sure about that?” Techno says, and as he raises a brow, his eyes have a dull purple glint.

Tommy looks at his own chest. There, pressed perfectly between his two ribs, is a delicate thin stiletto. Techno holds it still, halted abruptly a flick of a moment before it could plunge into his beating, living heart. 

That's one way to start their first conversation in almost half a year. Any other person would have panicked, or started screaming by now, but all Tommy does is let his head fall back on the grass, silently admitting his defeat. 

Internally, Tommy is happy. To see Techno, that is, not to get tossed around like a ragdoll, but it’s an obligatory extension that comes with having General Technoblade as his older brother. 

There is an understandable concern rising within any country whenever twins are born into the ruling family. History has shown that the closer siblings are, the bloodier they’re going to fight for the throne. Power struggles rarely end well; while the heirs are busy trying to tear each other’s throats, they fail to notice how the country goes up in crimson flames. 

Tommy’s older brothers were spared from that fate. Techno never showed any interest towards politics and diplomacy and practically any part of a prince’s daily routine. While Wilbur eagerly participated in every social event held in the palace, Techno was ready to lock himself into a tower and throw the key out of the window if it meant he wouldn’t have to talk to another person in his life again. Between them two, it was obvious who Emperor Philza chose as his heir. 

It wasn’t until the twin princes started their physical training that Techno found his true talent. Talent is nothing without hard work, and no effort can compensate for a lack of talent; Techno, however, has a scary amount of both. It’d be easier to move a mountain than to stop him when he decides on a new goal – stubborn and competitive, it’s like he breathes and lives with a single purpose – to conquer, to improve and to perfect .

The stiletto pressing into his ribs disappears. Tommy didn’t even blink, and Techno already hid it away to- where? His sleeve, belt, boot – Tommy wouldn’t know. If he had to place a bet, he’d say that there are three different weapons hidden somewhere on Techno’s body. 

“That’s unfair,” Tommy says, sheathing his own weapon. “My knives are for throwing, not for close-combat defense.”

Techno straightens up and offers Tommy a hand. “The problem isn’t in your weapon but in your reflexes. You’re just too slow. If there’ll ever be another assassination attempt, you’ll be dead before you realize what attacked you.”

“It’s been three years,” Tommy says. 

Majority of the countries on the continent have a certain symbol to represent them. For Esempi, it’s a dragon, for Kinoko kingdom – a white rabbit; historically, Antarctic Empire was associated with a blue-eyed crow.

“Ironic, isn’t it?” Looking upon the flapping flag, Techno squeezed eleven-year-old Tommy’s hand tighter. “We’re the rotting body now, and everybody else is a hungry crow.”

Problems started arising in the Empire less than a week after Wilbur’s disappearance. Everybody felt the shudder of the imperial family, a crack that ran through the very heart of the country. Unwavering, formidable Emperor Philza suddenly turned into a simple man, broken with the loss of his wife and his child. Every rat lurking in the shadows took its chance to strike; two conflicting barons burned each other’s villages down, other kingdoms challenged their rights for border territories, and bandits huddled up together in organized structures, terrorizing traders on smaller roads.