When they reach the castle, they all dismount and charge the doors. The guards at the entrance don't stand a chance against the Viride knights, and in a minute, Seán and Mark are racing through the halls of the castle with a small army behind them. Servant girls point nervously in the direction of the throne room before ducking into hiding, trembling like leaves. Mark follows their directions easily, fire and magic burning in his veins. In this castle he can feel the pulsing of his magic keenly, as though it's been waiting for his return and now rejoices because of it.
Rubellus knights on the inside of the castle run at the knights from Viride, their swords clashing. Mark pulls his own sword out, deflecting a blade that comes at him as he continues to head towards the throne room.
Seán and Mark race into the throne room on their own, having instructed the knights beforehand to stay outside and attempt to capture the Rubellus knights while letting the royals handle this fight. Mark's stomach bubbles with rage as he stands defiantly with Seán, glaring daggers at the conqueror of Rubellus.
The man sits on Mark's throne, the true crown of Rubellus perched on his greying hair. A ruby-red cloak is tied around his throat, emblazoned with the flame of the kingdom that doesn't belong to him. His eyes gleam, hard and cold.
"Ah, Prince Mark of Rubellus. How nice of you to show up," he states with a malicious smirk. "I had hoped to meet you long ago, but it seems you had help from a certain little king and escaped the clutches of my men."
Seán scowls, his fingers tightening around the handle of his sword. Mark glances at him, brown locking with blue for a split second.
"I have come to take back what you stole," the prince growls, glaring back at the conqueror.
"Yes, I am well aware. Why else would you be here?" The conqueror sighs a little. "I am surprised it took you so long to show up, actually. I did order the slaughter of your entire family, after all."
Mark's eyes flash for a moment before hardening, his grip on his sword tightening significantly. Before he can speak, the conqueror waves his hand dismissively and stands, reaching for the broadsword that rests against the armrest of the throne.
"I am quite done with chitchat. I have waited a long time to kill you, Prince Mark, and now seems like a perfect opportunity."
Without a word of warning, Mark charges at the conqueror with his sword raised. His eyes burn with anger as red magic starts swirling around his hands, hot and bright and fuelled by the prince's emotions.
This is the man who ran his family out of their homeland. This is the man that ordered his kidnapping. This man is the reason his family is dead, and now he brags about it?!
Their swords clash over and over again as Mark refuses to back down, swinging his blade with a vengeance. The conqueror easily spars with him before twisting Mark's sword, sending it clattering to the ground.
"Oh, Prince Mark," the man chuckles coldly. "Did you really think—"
Before he can continue, Seán shoves his way between Mark and the conqueror, forcing the man back with his own sword. Green swirls around his hands before forming a shield around the prince, protecting him from harm.
"Stay. Away. From. Him!" Seán snarls, swinging his sword with every word. The conqueror takes a few steps back, parrying the blows with a little less ease.
Mark grits his teeth, holding a hand out and sending a strand of red from his palm. It soars through the air before twisting around his sword and pulling it back into his hand in one swift motion. The prince looks to Seán, his stomach dropping into his feet.
The king is getting exhausted. It's obvious in every move he makes and every countermove he attempts against the conqueror. He's maintaining a protective shield around Mark, is locked in a duel with a powerful man, and is shielding his own body with magic all at the same time, and it's sapping his energy. Mark runs to reach him, but just as he does the conqueror's blade catches Seán's side and leaves a shallow but bleeding gash. The royal yelps, and in his moment of weakness the man lifts his blade.
Mark lifts his arm, creating a bubble around both him and Seán. The conqueror's sword bounces off the magic, sending a shudder through the shield that Mark can feel in his veins. The conqueror loses his balance and falls backwards, giving the two royals a moment to breathe.
"Are you okay?" Mark asks, glancing at Seán.
"I'm fine," the king replies, gritting his teeth and pressing a hand to his bloodied side. "Let's end this."
The prince nods and heals Seán's side quickly before lowering his protective bubble. The conqueror pulls himself to his feet, his scowl deepening.
"You are testing my patience, prince."
Mark and Seán grin at each other before turning back to the man, their swords raised. The conqueror growls low in his throat and charges at them, but even he knows it's over. A few minutes later, Mark drives his sword through the man's stomach and he collapses, breathing hard for a few moments before finally taking his last breath.
The prince blinks a few times, his blade clattering to the floor. He stares at the body of the conqueror before falling to his knees and burying his face in his hands. Seán crouches beside him, holding him close and burying his face in his shoulder, and after a moment Mark hugs back.
"We did it," the prince whispers. Tears pour down his face, although they aren't sad. They're the happiest tears he's ever cried. "We won, Seán. We won!"
Seán laughs, tears wetting his eyes as well. "Mark, oh my gosh, Mark..."
The prince pulls out of the hug, holding Seán's face in his hands and smiling brightly despite the moisture on his cheeks. "We won! Rubellus is free! I don't even know why I'm crying but we WON!"
Both royals rise to their feet, and before they know what they're doing they're cheering and screaming and hugging each other. Mark kisses Seán's lips over and over again, laughing uncontrollably.
"Thirty years and the royal family is back!" he exclaims between kisses. "My parents and Thomas would have been so proud."
Seán runs his fingers over Mark's jaw, giddy with adrenaline and joy. "They would have."
The doors open and they step apart, bright eyed and grinning widely. A large number of knights step in, some emblazoned with the crest of Viride and others with the crest of Rubellus. The moment they see the conqueror's body, they erupt into cheers as well. Rubellus knights hug Viride knights and vice versa, and Mark can already imagine the streets filling with celebration.
He reaches out, taking Seán's hand in his and grinning widely at him. They won. Rubellus is back in good hands. Everything is going to work out just fine.