Ellis chuckled, leaning back in his chair as his guards moved closer, fingers resting on their triggers. “At ease, men. Our Angel here has grown up. He doesn't have time for ‘pleasantries.’”

Angel shifted uncomfortably in his seat, clenching his jaw. It had been two long years since he last laid eyes on his brother, and he felt sickened by the man Ellis had become. He was here only to settle their father’s affairs after his passing.

Essentially, they needed to determine who would claim the throne and rule as king.

Both brothers governed their own towns, but Ellis had built his power on fear and intimidation. Being seven years older, he had always cast a long shadow over Angel. Their father, while not malevolent, had certainly been flawed.

In the months leading up to his death, however, their father had begun to reconsider his life choices. He reached out to Angel, sharing his dying wish: for his sons to mend their rift and rule the kingdom together in the spirit of peace, justice, and equality.

But Ellis had no interest in such ideals.

“Father said—” Angel started to explain, but Ellis interrupted him.

“Father is dead,” he snapped, anger flashing in his hazel eyes. “I am the oldest. I’m next in line.”

“No, Ellis, you don’t even know what it means to be a king. All you want is power, but there’s so much more to it.”

Ellis leaned in closer. “And you would know, Angel? People need to be pushed. They need to be kept in line. The world isn’t all sunshine and rainbows. There are wicked people out there, and someone has to be tougher to keep them in check.”

Angel struggled to comprehend Ellis’s twisted reasoning. He wanted to shout but held back his temper. Rising from his seat, he declared, “Fine. I’m leaving. I’ll rule the kingdom on my own.”

“Dare you?” Ellis grinned. “I’ve waited years for that fool to die.”

“Fool? He was our _father_!”

“_My_ father.”

Angel gasped. “How can you say that?”

“You know it’s true. You’re not even royal blood. They found you abandoned in a ditch, left for dead. You should have died.”

Angel stepped closer to Ellis, but his guards closed in, forcing him back. “He raised me! Both him and mother—”

“Don’t speak of her.”

“Why not?”

“Leave at once.”

“Mother would be so ashamed, El.”

Ellis jumped to his feet. “What did you just call me?”

He raised his hand, signaling his guards back, and walked up to Angel until they were nearly nose to nose.

“You have no right to enter MY town and call me a name I’ve buried.”

“You can bury the past, but it’s still there. Always will be. Mother and Father may be gone, but they live on somewhere, and they’ll never rest until you face that.”

Anger boiled in Ellis, leaving him speechless. Staring at Angel, he caught a glimpse of the little boy he once knew, and it filled him with disgust.

“Take him away,” he ordered the guards. “Now!”

Angel looked at his brother in despair. “You can’t do this,” he pleaded as the guards seized him by the arms.

“It’s for your own good,” Ellis insisted.

“My people will come—”

“Let them come. I’ll be ready.”

With that, Angel was dragged away and thrown into an underground prison.

Meanwhile, Ellis fought with his different feelings about what he had just done. Part of him was convinced it was necessary and justified, but deep down, he knew he was wrong.