A Villain's Regrets
Kyner watched the bolt of his curse strike the upper storey of the abandoned barn. The stone wall crumbled and fell; tiles slid from the roof and the next moment the entire building had caved in with a deep rumble that shook the earth. A plume of dust rose into the cold air of dawn. By the time it settled, the old barn was nothing but a mass of rubble and stone. Half the wall had collapsed right where Elijah had been standing.
Something akin to burning regret stabbed Kyner’s chest.
An ungodly quiet spread through the world. Even the rooks were silent. They had ascended to the heavens at the first sign of trouble and now sat watching from the trees at the top of the hill. They would be back before long to scavenge between the fallen stones. Across the valley, on the crest of the opposite hill, an entire city held its breath, waiting to learn who had survived – their hero, or their enemy.
Kyner looked down at his hands. They were shaking. One still gripped the staff he had used to bring down the barn. It looked so different now than it did all those years ago when he had stolen it from the castle vaults. He’d hoped it would lead him to his destiny and glory. Pain and bloodshed were all he received. Now he saw the twisted wood and the iron snakes coiled about it not as some coveted prize but a ruinous curse. The rubies in the eyes of the snakes no longer reflected the image of a great warlock. Instead, he saw his own wide eyes, the youthful face of one not long into his manhood. He was little more than a frightened boy.
He turned away from the barn and stared down into the valley. Where was his grand victory? The world was a colder, more desolate place than it had seemed moments before. Had it always been so bleak?
Then he was running – not away into his conquered world but back towards the barn. Fire scorched his senses. He cast the point of his staff over the larger rocks and hurled them to the side. Each time was harder than the last. Such a simple use of his power and yet suddenly he felt the weight of the building where to him it should have been light as air.
The staff split and he cast it aside without remorse. He began shifting through the rubble. He exposed a hand, then an arm. He fell to his knees and scrabbled at the rocks until his fingers bled. Only when the body was revealed did he sit back on his heels and weep.
They had been brothers once. Not in blood, but through a stronger force than familial ties.
“I’m touched, but will you please stop blubbing?” The voice was pitifully weak.
Kyner dropped his hands and stared at the re-animated body of his enemy. “How could you possibly have survived?” he cried. Was it relief flooding his heart or frustration? He tried to wipe away his traitorous tears but only succeeded in smearing dirt and blood across his cheeks. “I brought down a whole building on top of you!”
Elijah struggled to sit up. Dust covered him from head to toe. The grey powder in his hair gave him the appearance of an old man, but his eyes were still bright with the end of boyhood. He reached inside his tunic and withdrew a silver chain, from which hung an iron disk no bigger than his thumb. Carved symbols of the old faiths covered its surface.
“Iron-skin talisman,” he said, weakly. “It was getting hard to breathe under there though.” He tilted his head to the side and frowned. “You were crying. For me.”
Kyner ran a trembling hand through his hair and looked about him as if hoping to find an answer buried in the grass. The sun was finally beginning to burn through the mist draped about the hillside and the world seemed brighter, warmer, than it did before.
“Victory was…not quite so grand as I thought it would be. Turns out I didn’t want to see you die after all.”
“Right. I appreciate that. I’m not so keen on dying this morning either.”
“So, what happens now?” asked Kyner, after a moment of silence.
Elijah shrugged. He looked tired. There were shadows under his eyes, and he had the air of one who would rather see his bed than an adoring crowd. “Well, my heroic status dictates I should kill you. It is expected of me, but I haven’t quite decided yet.”
Kyner nodded. “Do you mind if I sit here until you do? I am…tired of running.”
“Of course,” said Elijah. He moved a lump of flint that had been digging into his side and then rested his elbows on his knees. He didn't ask what had become of the staff.
There the pair remained, watching the sun rise over the valley while one tried to decide whether or not to kill the other.