The Mistakes Of Misfits

       I led my armies to the door of my father's study. I had used every bit of willpower to not think about Sumi and the others facing Sabastian, but I had a job to do. This was too important for me to falter for even a moment. The battle on the way here was bloody and brutal but most of our troops made it through. The cult was not as heavily manned as I expected. The templar's had minimal losses but the worst was yet to come. 

    I stood in front of the massive wooden doors to the study. My heart raced and my hands shook a bit. This was it, the moment I finally faced my father. I steeled myself and thought about everything that had gotten me this far. My kingdom, my friends. This is what I was fighting for, this is what I needed to win for. I took one deep breath and pushed open the doors to the study. 

       My father's dark hazel eyes were the first thing that greeted me. He leaned back at the end of the room in a massive chair similar to the throne he always sat in. My father seemed to be nowhere to be found, the king was all that remained. He was much too large for the chair. He was almost a foot taller than myself. His muscular arms braced his armchair tightly as I entered the room. “I should have known it was you.” He muttered. 

     I looked around the room. The furniture that was usually in the study was shoved off to the sides of the room other than the large chair my father sat in. His few remaining templar's stood by his side. I furrowed my brow, trying to look as intimidating as possible. “I will give you one chance father, stand down now. I don't want to do this.” I brought up my sword and pointed it at the king. 

      He laughed. “You've gotten this far boy. You're already a traitorous bastard, might as well go all the way through with it!” He threw his hands up in an exasperated gesture. “This throne is mine! No matter what rebellions you raise it won't change the fact that you don't deserve my title.” He leaned up and grabbed his sword with a hatred I had rarely seen from my enemies. 

     I sighed and nodded my head. This was the time. I slammed my sword into the concrete, causing a loud crack. “That's why I challenge you father, no more lost lives! Face me for your honor and throne!” I held his stare for a few moments in absolute, tense silence. 

      Then the King's rageful expression turned into a wicked smile. “Well boy, at least you'll die with a backbone.” He stood up from his chair and the pure size of him had not diminished over the last ten years. He held his great axe in one hand and approached me. Both sides of our armies started to form around us as I also stepped toward the middle of the room. My father's look was of pure amusement and cockyness. “I should have killed you as an example all those years ago. I won't make the same mistake twice.” He held his axe forward and prepared himself in a defensive stance.

    I calmed down my shaking hands as I readied my blade in front of me. “I'm sorry I have to do this father, but I won't let you hurt anyone else.” With that I steeled my expression and lunged forward, aiming my blade for his chest. The king blocked my strike with surprising speed. He smirked as he pushed me off and unleashed a flurry of strikes that had me stumbling back in order to block them. 

     The king kept a consistent strong series of strikes. I felt my arms about to give. He was much too strong to face head on. I had to be smarter about this. I still had an advantage in speed. I would need to use it. As my father made his next swing I ducked underneath the attack and sliced his leg as I weaved around him and took a step back. 

     The king let out a grunt as my sword pierced his skin. He went down to one knee from the pain. I swung back around, ready to slice into his throat but as my eyes met my father's. My memories went back to the days before my mother died. I remembered the way he held me when I was young. I stopped my swing and hesitated for a brief moment. 

      The king took this moment to slash me right across my arm. I let out a cry of pain as I stumbled back. My father smiled. “You've always been weak.” He said sadistically. He slashed once again across my knee and one more straight across my chest, resembling the exact same strike as when he gave me my scar. The axe pierced my armor and I felt my chest flare.

      The king didn't move against me. He stood back for a moment and admired his handy work. “You think you're royal? You think you deserve my kingdom?” He screamed. He hit me with his axe again and my armor started to crack. I attempted to put up my sword but he moved so quickly. The king moved in again and struck me twice. Once across the shoulder and once against my ribs. My armor cut like paper as he struck me. “You've always been pathetic, unwilling to take the necessary steps to rule.” The pain set in and I fell to my knees, my shattered armor hanging off of my shoulders. The king aimed a finishing blow at my head. I felt my emotions coming to its peak. I had failed. I couldn't go through with it. The king sneered as the axe neared my skull he looked down at me with disappointment. “You're not a prince… you're not my son.”

     My fear and sadness turned into rage as I brought up my sword and blocked the strike before it reached my skull. I stared into my father's eyes with nothing but cold rage. I twisted my body out of the way of my father's reach and slashed across the king's face. Blood splattered and my father cupped his face as he let out an agonizing scream. I stood tall as I ripped off the tattered remains of my chest armor. My bare skin felt free as the metal clanged against the floor and my new cuts almost burned as they made contact with the air. The king let go of his bloody face and sneered at me. “You think you can beat me you ungrateful shit!? You have no right!” 

    I kept my face cold, but tears still fell from my face as I finally accepted it. Marline was right, hell Calorina was right. The man standing before me was not my father, and as he said… I'm not his son. I held my blade forward as a silent promise of what I would do to him. “I came here to save my father and my people… but it seems my father died the day my mother did. Today… I will avenge them both.” 

     The king had a single moment of revelation at my words, but I didn't give him that moment. I lunged forward and slashed across his shoulder. The king let out another cry of pain but I wasn't done. I sent two more slashes flying across his chest. He swung at me wildly but I ducked under the attack and gave him matching cuts across his muscular back.

     The king backhanded me with his axe. I put up my sword to block the blade but the impact still was enough to send me skidding backward. His hair whipped and his eyes looked wild as he stared me down. He didn't speak, anything he would have wanted to spew had already been spoken between our glares. He attacked me, swinging like a wild animal. 

    I was able to dodge the strikes with relative ease.  The king had gone feral, and while he had lost the strategic edge to his swings, he gained an unpredictable power in its place. I stayed on the defensive, baiting out every wild strike until I saw the heavy breathing and strained swings. I took the opportunity and struck the king with my free hand, sending him reeling. My anger boiled to the surface. “I will remember you as you were, not as… this.” I planted a stab straight into his chest. 

     The king stood for a moment, stunned by the attack. As I pulled my blade away he fell to his knees, his injuries becoming too much to bear. His face was dead, not a single ounce of emotion made its way to the surface. He looked up at me, hazel eyes cold and dead. “You know what must be done. Do not dishonor me.” He muttered. He held his chin high, accepting his fate. 

      My chest tightened a bit as I held my blade to his throat. I would give him this. I would preserve his honor. I brought my blade up and a small smile crossed my father's face. “Long live the king.” He whispered. My eyes burned at the words. My father hadn't commended me since my mother… Perhaps a little bit of my father shined through at the end.

      I tightened my grip on my sword. “I will remember you not as my king, but as my father.” I reassured him. I knew my memories of him would never fade… but now I think I could live with them. I brought down my sword, giving the king the honorable death he craved. 

         I didn't have the heart to watch the body fall. I turned quickly back toward my friends as I heard the loud thump of my father hit the floor. Everyone around me waited for me in stunned silence. I swallowed down the growing tears and raised my sword into the air. “By right of combat, I am now your king!” I looked back at the few loyal templar's who followed my father. “Will you serve? Or will you die here?” I would offer them all honorable deaths for their loyalty, but I hoped they would be reasonable. 

      The templar's slowly got down to one knee and brought their arms across their chests. “Long live king Kasious.” One of them said, the words hit me like a sword. I was now king. I had known that going in but… actually being here, actually accomplishing it was different. My knees threatened to buckle as I stood tall. I couldn't show any weakness right now. The rest of the room started to bow. I turned back to my friends to see them bowing to me as well and my heart almost shattered at the sight. 

     “Long live king Kasious!” Kerrigan repeated. The room erupted into cheers. He gave me a devilish smile that I would repay him for later. I smiled and basked in the accomplishment. I had done it… we had done it. We saved my city.