"I will be a good prince, Narsus, if not for Daryun, then to oppose Hermes. I will be kind to the soldiers, to bolster the morale of our troops so as to kill all those foolish enough to align themselves with Daryun's murderer."
Daryun was laid to rest with a pendant of lapis lazuli. That night, Elam wished him a good night. Then, only when he was truly alone, would tears stream down his cheeks. In his hand was something he should not have. Daryun's necklace which he stolen from his grave.
Who am I to steal from corpses? Yet, Daryun...you don't mind right? Just give me strength a little longer...for you, I must be strong. I cannot forgive that cousin of mine who walked away as you laid dying by his hand.
Heavy footsteps echoed throughout the dark room. Hermes looked up as he saw the heir to the Parsian throne. Dull blue eyes accompanied by candle light casted a shadow across his face. His cloak was stained with unholy blood from the sorcerers that were slain. "That was the last of them." he said softly in a detached tone, regarding the numerous decapitated body parts. It was as if he was truly reluctant to face Hermes, the final obstacle to his succession of the Parsian throne. However, without words, everything had already been decided moments ago in that very room.
"When you revealed yourself to us, it made me falter in my steps, knowing there was a person with blood more worthy of the throne than mine." A pause, "Then why was this man allowing such a dreadful fate to befall his own country? Did he think carrying the oath of vengeance allowed him the freedom to do away with his people?"
Hermes looked down, staring at his feet. How pathetic. Was this what Daryun's killer was reduced to? Arslan felt anger towards Daryun, for leaving him alone, heartbroken, when it was this simple to deal with him. He shook his head, clearing his thoughts.
He continued, "No, of course not. I was ready to forgive and accept you back, Lord Cousin, but by your hands you still stood for the enemy." Pursing his lips, Arslan delivered his judgement. Unsheathing his sword, he said in a voice filled with anger that no one expected him to have, "Whatever happens here is the result of your vengeance, so be it. This is the wrath you chose to face the moment you took Daryun from me."
Had it been months ago, Hermes would have dismissed Arslan as someone unimportant, someone who could be disposed of at anytime. He would not have acknowledged him as a real challenger to the Parsian throne. His heart at the time was far too warm and forgiving, far too naive. He was a boy unsullied by war, who had not held death close to his heart.
Now, however, was a different story. The imposing figure of the adolescent prince overshadowed his own. Hermes could only clutch his shoulder and glare at the boy, no, man in hatred. How had he not noticed? The boy had grown into his position as a prince, a role that was cold and uninviting. To his comrades, he acted the same as he always had, friendly and oh so very kind, yet to the enemy, he was demeaning and ruthless. In donning an invisible mask, the boy had matured into a man.
It was Hermes himself who had caused this transformation, by killing the boy's champion, Daryun. He thought he would have broken the boy, causing him to give up on his quest, but instead, an embittered man came at him with quiet fury. He had caused his own downfall. The proof was before his very eyes. As the man stood in front of him in full view, his hair splayed across his shoulders, he spoke the oath of vengeance. "You pathetic fool. How does it feel to lose everything again?" There was no hesitation in Arslan's words, only satisfaction on his petite face as it twisted in delight at the breaking of the animal beneath his feet.
A short piece I wrote a long time ago after reading a comic depicting what might happen if Arslan loses Daryun by heroiclegendofcinnamonroll on tumblr.