Chapter 83: Fond Memories

~Note, this is a flashback!~

The old training yard smelled of hay and horse sweat and the musk of a wet panther cub.

Seven-year-old Leonidas barreled through the wooden gate, bare feet slapping against the packed dirt, a wooden practice sword clutched in both hands. His raven hair was a wild mess, his tunic already stained from a morning of rolling in the grass with the hounds. Behind him, a smaller boy stumbled after him, white-haired and pale, his mismatched eyes, one glacial blue, one deep purple, wide with the effort of keeping up.

"Wait for me!" Cassian called, his voice high and breathless. "Leo, wait!"

Leonidas skidded to a halt and spun around, grinning. "You’re too slow! You’ll never be a warrior if you can’t even catch a cub!"

"I’m five," Cassian protested, doubling over with his hands on his knees. "You’re seven. That’s not fair."

"Life isn’t fair." Leonidas puffed out his chest, parroting something he had heard his father say a hundred times. "Father says a king must be swift and—"

"Your father says a lot of things."

Both boys froze.

Dorian stood at the edge of the training yard, arms crossed over his broad chest, watching them with a smile. He was tall and strong and everything a boy of seven imagined a warrior should be. His dark blue hair was tied back, and his navy eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled.

"Sir Dorian!" Leonidas straightened immediately, dropping into a clumsy bow. Beside him, Cassian copied the motion, nearly toppling over.

Dorian laughed. He crossed the yard in a few long strides and ruffled both boys’ hair at once.

"What did I tell you about quoting your father?" he said, his voice mild. "The man’s words are worth less than the mud on my boots."

Leonidas gasped. "You can’t say that! He’s the King!"

"And I’m his general, which means I get to say whatever I want." Dorian winked. "That’s the perk of being indispensable."

Cassian giggled. Leonidas tried very hard not to, and failed.

"Now then." Dorian stepped back, surveying them both. "What are we practicing today? Swords? Stalking? Or—" He paused, a mischievous glint entering his eyes. "—wrestling?"

"I want to wrestle!" Cassian shouted immediately.

"You always want to wrestle," Leonidas complained. "You’re too small. I’ll crush you."

"Will not!"

"Will too!"

"Boys." Dorian’s voice cut through the squabbling. "There’s no need to fight about it. You’ll both get a turn." He crouched down, bringing himself to their level. "But first, I want you to promise me something."

Two small heads nodded in unison.

"When you’re grown," Dorian said quietly, "when you’re kings and warriors and whatever else you decide to become—" His gaze flickered, just for a moment, to something sad. "—promise me you’ll look after each other. No matter what happens. No matter what anyone tells you. Family is the only thing that matters."

Leonidas frowned, confused by the sudden seriousness. "Of course we will. We’re cousins."

Dorian smiled.

"That’s what I wanted to hear."

~

The memory dissolved, and the world went white.

Dorian opened his eyes and found himself standing in an endless expanse of nothing. No ground. No sky. Just white, stretching in every direction, swallowing sound and shadow and time itself.

He looked down at his hands. They were whole again. No blood. No wounds. No severed wrist.

What is this place?

He tried to move, but there was nothing to move toward. He tried to speak, but the words died in his throat.

Then he saw it.

The shadow.

It stood a few feet away, shaped like a man but wrapped in darkness, faceless and still. It looked exactly as it had in life. A hole cut out of the world in the shape of a person.

You.

The shadow tilted its head.

Hello, Dorian.

"You—" Dorian’s voice cracked. He took a step forward, his hands curling into fists. "You ruined everything!"

Did I?

"Yes!" Dorian shouted, his voice echoing into the void. "You were supposed to obey me! You were supposed to kill the Empress! You were supposed to—" He stopped, chest heaving. "You hesitated. You felt. You ruined everything!"

The shadow said nothing.

"I gave you one task!" Dorian continued, stepping closer. "One simple task! Kill the woman, and the boy, and anyone else who got in the way! And what did you do? You talked to her! You told her your life story! You let her live!"

I did.

"You—" Dorian’s hands were shaking. "You bastard!"

Call me whatever you want, I am you. And I envied the empress.

Dorian stared at it.

"You envied her?" he repeated, disbelief bleeding into his voice. "You envied a woman who was about to die? A woman who had nothing? A woman who—"

A woman who was loved, the shadow interrupted. A woman who had a family. A woman who had people who would run toward her when the dark came, not away.

Dorian’s mouth snapped shut.

You had that once, the shadow said quietly. You had two boys who looked at you like you hung the stars. You had a king who trusted you. You had a life.

"That life was taken from me!" Dorian roared. "The old King betrayed me! He experimented on me! He threw me into a pit to die!"

Yes, the shadow agreed. He did. And you survived. And you had a choice.

"A choice?" Dorian laughed. "What choice? I had nothing. I was nothing. The only thing I had left was revenge."

You could have walked away, the shadow said. You could have started over. You could have found a new life, a new family, a new purpose. Instead, you chose to become the monster they made you.

"I am not a monster!"

You created a plague. You turned innocent people into rabid beasts. You used a desperate woman as a pawn and then killed her when she outlived her usefulness. You tried to murder a six-year-old boy. The shadow’s voice was calm. What would you call that?

"I—" Dorian stopped. His hands were trembling. "I was going to kill Leonidas. The boy I loved like my own son. I was going to kill him and everyone he cared about."

Yes.

"I was going to destroy everything he built."

Yes.

"I was—" Dorian’s voice cracked. "I was going to—"

He stopped.

The shadow watched him.

You were going to kill a boy who once sat on your shoulders, it said. A boy who called you ’Sir Dorian’ and bowed so clumsily he nearly fell over. A boy who believed you were the greatest warrior in the world.

Dorian’s eyes were burning. He pressed the heels of his hands against them, but the tears came anyway.

"I loved him," he whispered. "I loved him like a son."

I know.

"I didn’t want to hurt him."

I know.

"I just—" Dorian’s voice broke. "I just wanted to make them pay. The old King. The kingdom. Everyone who stood by and let it happen."

And so you decided to burn it all down, the shadow said. Including the people who never wronged you. Including the boy you loved.

Dorian sank to his knees.

The white space stretched around him, endless and empty, and he was just a man again. Not a general. Not a monster. Just a broken, bitter man who had lost everything and decided to take the world with him.

You chose this path, the shadow said. No one forced you. No one made you. You could have stopped at any moment. You could have turned back. But you didn’t.

"I know," Dorian choked out.

The plague. The attacks. The deaths. The boy you almost killed. The family you almost destroyed. The shadow’s voice was soft. All of it was your choice.

"I know."

And now it’s over.

Dorian looked up. The shadow was still standing there, faceless and still, but somehow it seemed sad.

"What happens now?" Dorian asked.

Now? The shadow tilted its head. Now you face the consequences.

"I’m already dead."

Yes.

"So what consequences are left?"

The shadow didn’t answer. Instead, it simply stepped back.

And then the flames came.

They erupted from nowhere, licking up from the white ground, curling around Dorian’s legs. He screamed, trying to scramble backward, but there was nowhere to go. The fire was everywhere, spreading faster than it should have, hungry and merciless.

"WAIT!" Dorian shouted. "WAIT, PLEASE—"

Goodbye, Dorian, the shadow said.

"No—no, please—I’m sorry—I’m sorry—"

The flames swallowed him whole.

And then there was nothing.

Just white. And silence. And the shadow, standing alone in the emptiness.

It looked down at its hands. They were fading now, dissolving into light, the darkness bleeding out of them like ink in water.

It closed its eyes. So much had happened since his other half, had chosen to give i to the anger and pain of revenge, and now, he could finally rest.

I am glad I didn’t kill her.

The shadow dissolved.

And the white space was empty once more.