-Cole-
“The king is dead! Long live the king!”
My father... dead. After years of ruling beside my mother, his life had come to an end. But it was not a simple cold or age that took him from us. No, it was them. It was the pagans. My grandfather had done his best to rid the world of them, but he too had perished. My own father, for reasons I could not comprehend, refused to continue the hunt. And where did that get him? Dead.
He lay on the altar, his body wrapped in white cloth, sage burning around him. My mother wept beside me, my sister holding her, trying to offer comfort. But there was nothing we could do for our mother. Our father had been the love of her life, and they had fought so hard to be together, only to be torn apart... by them.
I tightened my grip around his sword. It had
