Demons, Witches, and Toads (BoyxBoy)

The Eldest Prince

Breathless, Wheeler arrived at the top of the tower, his heart thundering as a wave of anxiety induced nausea struck at the sight before him.

Emeric stood there, a smirk on his face, fingers curled around the back of a chair. Sitting in it was Mulock, coarse rope wrapped tightly around him with his hands bound behind his back. The demon's body was limp, eyes shut, the shallow rise and fall of his chest the only evidence he was still alive.

Wheeler felt like he was about to vomit.

Guards lined the tower's circumference, watching Wheeler intently as he approached.

"It took you long enough," Emeric mused.

"Release him," Wheeler managed to choke out. "I'm the one you want. Just...please let him go..."

"I'm afraid I can't do that," Emeric said, fingers absently brushing against the faded red mark at Mulock's throat. "He's my assurance that you're about to do exactly as I say." Slowly, he extended a hand. "And with that being said, give me your wand."

Wheeler knew it was a stupid thing to do. He was about to leave himself utterly defenseless. Despite this, just one look at Mulock was all it took.

Swallowing down the lump in his throat, Wheeler removed his wand, placing it in his brother's outstretched hand.

Emeric smirked, fingers curling tightly around it. "This is why someone like you could never be Grand Emperor," he said. "Caring so much for others has made you a weak, spineless little bitch." The moment the words left his mouth, he snapped the wand in half.

Watching it happen felt like watching one of his own bones break.

His mother had gifted Wheeler that wand as a child, and it had been with him through thick and thin, always at his side like a silent friend. Now, all Wheeler could do was watch as Emeric dropped its broken remains to the floor and stomped on it, the sound of splintering wood echoing through the chamber.

Two of Emeric's guards roughly grabbed Wheeler by the arms now, forcing him to his knees.

Emeric grinned, lacing his fingers behind his back as he finally approached his younger brother. "You know, Father favors you for the very same reason he favored me—your power." The back of his heel suddenly shoved into Wheeler's back, slamming him down hard against the cold stone of the tower's floor. "However, once we take that power away, he'll soon grow bored of you and everything will return to the way it was before." He smirked. "The way it was always meant to be." His gaze trailed down to Wheeler's trembling fingers. "It'll be rather hard to spell cast once we cut off your hands."

The words sent a jolt of horror through Wheeler.

Terror overtook him, the burn of his magic beginning to pulse through his veins, heating his blood as if it could sense it was in danger. "Brother, please," Wheeler choked out, hating how pathetic his voice sounded, even to his own ears. "Please don't do this."

"But I'm not the one doing this," Emeric replied in a mockingly innocent voice. "You're going to tell Father you were attacked by robbers." He dug his heel harder into Wheeler's back as the guard across from them removed a massive blade. "And you're going to keep up the lie for the rest of your pathetic little life. Do that, and I won't lay a hand on Mulock."

"But you said you'd release him," Wheeler stammered, the sting of tears burning his eyes.

Emeric laughed, the sound echoing off the walls around them. "I said if you did as I asked I wouldn't hurt him. I never said anything about releasing him."

The words caused a new wave of terrified panic to erupt in Wheeler's chest. His magic reacted as well, boiling in his veins, bubbling and pushing against his skin as it begged to burst free.

"As I said before," Emeric continued. "He's my guarantee you'll always do exactly as I say." He chuckled, finally removing his foot from Wheeler's back. "And if you don't...well...I might just help myself to a taste of your lover. Judging by how quickly you gave everything up for him, I figure he must be quite the prize. I wonder how long it would take me to break him?"

Wheeler had begun to sob now, shoulders shuddering, eyes wild. Blood and magic pounded so loudly in his ears he could hardly hear the footsteps of the guard approaching him, his blade extended. He felt like he couldn't breathe, his chest rising and falling desperately as the swell of terror and magic continued to build, tearing at his insides as if it might rip him apart.

Two more of Emeric's men seized him roughly by the arms, forcing Wheeler to extend his hands as the guard began to raise the massive blade. The moonlight reflected off its surface causing it to glint in the darkness.

Wheeler prepared himself, his entire body shaking violently as he squeezed his eyes shut.

"Wait," Emeric interrupted. "I almost forgot! Before we cleave up my bastard brother, I have one final present for him."

Wheeler could hear the rustle of Emeric grabbing something as a guard's hand fisted in his hair, yanking his head up.

"Open your eyes, brother," Emeric ordered. "I want you to see your gift."

Feeling as if he might faint, Wheeler did as he asked.

Emeric still stood before him, now holding a dark burlap sack. "I thought it would be nice to revisit one of our first memories together," Emeric sneered, slowly pulling the bag open. "Only this time, there's a slightly different ending." He flipped the bag over and a small, round item fell from it, hitting the ground with a dull thud.

Emeric grinned, shoving the item with his foot. Slowly, it rolled towards Wheeler. The boy's stomach dropped as it finally emerged from the darkness and into the moonlight streaming in through the window.

Lying there was the decapitated head of the puppy from the garden.

And then the guard was moving at him with the blade.

And Emeric was laughing, the sound deafening.

And Wheeler was hysterical, unable to tell where his emotions ended and his magic began, everything a thundering, fiery tsunami rising within him, building and building and building until—

Wheeler finally exploded.

It all happened so quickly it almost didn't feel real. It was as if all the built up magic inside of him had erupted like a bomb, flinging the guards backwards. Emeric was thrown into the air like a ragdoll, flying across the room until he slammed against the wall with a sickening crack.

And then, as quickly as it had begun, it was over. Wheeler was left breathless, so exhausted he was hardly aware of the muffled sounds of the guards rushing past him, running from the tower as if Wheeler was some sort of monster.

The only one who remained was Emeric, still lying in a crumpled heap beside the wall.

Wheeler stumbled to his feet, the world spinning as he made his way towards his brother, his legs feeling like they might give out from under him at any moment. As he neared him, he abruptly became aware of the thick red liquid seeping out from under Emeric's head, pooling onto the stone floor. His brother's eyes were still wide open, his face frozen in an expression of horror.

Wheeler's heart jumped into his throat and he fell to his knees beside him, frantically feeling for a pulse—only to find there was none.

His brother was dead.

Wheeler had expected to feel like he had in the icy mountains, a rush of guilt, and tears and sorrow. Instead, however...

He felt absolutely nothing.

The realization turned Wheeler's stomach to knots. He stared down at Emeric's broken corpse, searching desperately for some sort of emotion, anything. He'd just killed his own brother, he should feel something. And yet... no matter how hard he tried, he just felt numb.

Wheeler was so horrified by this discovery that he almost didn't hear the sound of his name being called from behind him.

"Wheeler," the voice came again, jerking Wheeler out of his trance. "What happened...? What did you do?"

And at last, Wheeler turned to see his father standing there, his gaze locked on Emeric's corpse.