Long Live the King
They were exhausted when the Skeleton King came for them.
It wasn't physical exhaustion-even clad in armour, Aidan felt in his physical prime. No. It was the cathedral. The horrors. The evil that was supposedly at the heart of it. He could feel it…gnawing away at his mind…worming its way into his soul. It was as if he was already missing some of his spirit. And looking at the rogue and sorcerer behind him, Aidan could tell they were feeling the same.
Princes didn't show fear, Aidan told himself. They faced their foes. Fought their foes. Showed mercy to their foes if they had earned it, or dispensed justice if they had not.
"The warmth of life has entered my tomb! Prepare yourself, mortal, to serve my master for eternity!"
Even if they were your father.
Aidan stared into the black pits of his father's eyes. Black, and soulless. He was no king of Khanduras. No follower of the Light. He was but a walking skeleton. A…Skeleton King. Walking towards him. Already Selene had her bow ready. Already Sihir was channelling the powers of the arcane. And yet he did nothing.
Mortal… Aidan reflected. He called me that. Not Aidan. Not 'my son.' Does he even know me?
The…Skeleton King showed no sign of it. He deflected the fireball Sihir cast with his sword and the arrow that Selene shot lodged itself in his ribcage, not deterring him at all.
"Pathetic!"
He's beyond the Light, Aidan told himself. Beyond saving…
And yet he stood there. The prince who waited. The prince off playing at war while Khanduras went to Hell. The prince who had lost his mother, was without his brother, and facing his damned father. Stood there even as his father charged him. Stood as Selene and Sihir called out to him. Friends to the end. Or at least comrades. But not family either way.
With a roar, the king brought his sword down. Silently, Aidan stood. His sword arm low. His shield high.
"Aidan!"
Had Selene exclaimed that, or was it Sihir? He couldn't identify their voices. Such was the pain that shot through his arm as the Skeleton King's sword hit it. Such was the sound of his buckler cracking. Such was the feeling of emptiness as their eyes met again.
Aidan stared. The king stared back.
You feel it, don't you? Death's embrace.
And talked. Or was it his own mind playing tricks on him?
Join me, mortal.
It wasn't the voice of his father, that was for sure. His father wouldn't have pressed the sword down. His father would have reacted to arrows and fire. His father…would be worth saving.
Join me!
No, Aidan thought.
With a speed that seemed to catch the Skeleton King off-guard, he jumped back. With the strength of a lion of the east, he brought his sword up, carving into the undead monster's ribcage.
"Gah!"
The Skeleton King stumbled back. Aidan stood firm. With his friends. The only family he had left now, possibly.
"The king is dead," the prince of Khanduras declared. "Long live the king."