Useless
Garmadon paced the carpeted floors of Lloyd's bedchambers, hands clenched at his sides. "I swear, whoever did this will pay with his life," he said, voice low and animalistic. "No one does this to my son and gets away with it."
"Garmadon," Misako said, placing a hand on his shoulder as he passed. Her eyes were red from crying. "It's a disease. It's no one's fault."
"Someone had to get it first," Garmadon said. He pushed her away and continued pacing. "Viruses don't just pop out of thin air!"
Zane stayed by Lloyd's bed, mouth pressed shut. He knew who'd first contracted this disease. And for Kai's sake, he'd keep silent.
"You," Garmadon said, pointing an accusing finger at Zane. "Your Blade is supposed to have a healing power. Why is it doing nothing?"
Zane took a deep breath. "As I've told you before, Duskweaver heals physical ailments. Like cuts and breaks. Under rare circumstances, it can draw out poison. This disease is beyond my Blade's power to heal."
Garmadon pulled at his hair and growled. "Useless," he said. "All of you are useless."
Zane turned to Lloyd, who was lying in bed with his eyes pressed shut. His entire body was hot and soaked in sweat.
"She lives," he whispered, stuck in a feverish delirium. "The one who will take my place. She lives..."
It had happened so fast. Just two days ago the Prince had been playing pranks on Zane in the garden. And now here he was, mere minutes from death.
"Is he waking up?" Garmadon rushed to his son's side and held his hand, face softening a touch. "Son. Can you hear me?"
Duskweaver thrummed. Lloyd cannot hear anything. His mind is far, far away.
Pressure from the blood, which Duskweaver had declared was flooding his cranial cavity, was killing his brain.
His heart is at twenty beats per minute, Duskweaver said. The blood has done irreparable damage to his brain's connection to the cardiovascular system.
Zane stroked Lloyd's hair, tangled and wet. It hurt him, being able to monitor what was going on, but not having the power to play a part in it. The King was right. He was useless.
Misako slumped down in a plush chair beside her husband and wiped her eyes. "My baby," she said. "We can't lose him, Garmadon. He's part of the prophesy. What will happen to the world without him?"
Garmadon looked pensive. "I don't know," he said. "But the Overlord knows of Lloyd's importance. That might be why he is..." He turned to Zane. "It was you. Someone on your ship brought this plague, intending to kill my son."
"No," Zane said. "I swear, Your Majesty. No one on our ship had those intentions."
"Then what was it?" Garmadon asked. He towered over Zane, red eyes ablaze. "Who was it, and what intentions did they have?"
Zane stayed silent.
"She...lives..."
It has ended, Duskweaver said.
"Who?" Garmadon screamed, red in the face. "Who did this to my son?"
"Garmadon," Misako whispered, hands around Lloyd's emaciated wrist.
"No! No, I won't calm down! This is serious!"
"But...Garmadon."
"Stop, woman!" Garmadon reached out to strike her.
Zane stepped between them and caught the King's arm. "If you had listened to the Queen," he said, voice cracking, "then you would not be abusing her like this." He released Garmadon and fled the room, cloak billowing behind him.
"You never answered my question!" Garmadon said. "Guards, bring him back! Now!"
Zane pulled his hood over his face as he pounded down the stairs. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I am so, so sorry that I couldn't do more..."
He shoved past a few guards at the entrance to the palace, then pushed the massive stone door open and stumbled into the moonlit courtyard.
"...and now the Chosen One is dead."
He vaulted the gate and disappeared into the darkness, leaving behind the bitter wails of the King and Queen.