brotherhood II

Vaerion reported his brother's death to the king, their uncle Valthor, while Ruzath's blood was still warm on his fingertips.

Valthor only laughed.

Not because he had ordered it.

Not because he had wanted it.

But because he found it fitting.

"You remind me of myself," Valthor mused, swirling a glass of dark wine as he looked down at Vaerion.

Vaerion did not react. He already knew exactly what his uncle was implying, but he said lazily, "Do I?"

Valthor smirked. "You killed your brother. I killed mine. It is only a matter of time before the pattern continues."

The Veiled Emperor took another slow sip, then summoned an imp to give Vaerion a goblet of wine. Vaerion took it, Ruzath's blood smearing over the surface. The metallic scent of his brother's ichor wafted into his nose as he raised the glass to his lips.

"One day, you'll come for me, too," Valthor added.

"That's the plan," Vaerion took a drink.