"The Death of Magic: The Brothers Ravenscar" by Henrik ´Poet Hater´ K. Larsson

The kicks and blows rained down like molten fire upon the man’s unprotected skin; bruising, breaking and tearing at the huddling body. Yet the man did nothing. His hands rested calmly against the stony ground and his stare was unwavering as he looked deep into the eyes of the boy kneeling before him.

  The boy wept, a steady stream of salty tears trickled down the swollen, blood streaked cheeks. His bright blue eyes were pained with grief and remorse.

  “Stop it… please stop it…” the boy whispered, his voice thick with barely held back emotions.

  But the blows did not stop. The tall men exacting the beating were deaf to his words; a hollow look was painted over their determined faces. There would be no stopping what could not be stopped. There would be nothing to hold back justice’s iron fist.

  The dam broke. The boy’s emotions finally exploded in a tidal wave of utter despair.

  “Stop it!” he cried out. ”Stop it now! You’re killing him! He does not deserve this! Please…”

  An elegantly dressed woman with a cold expression turned his way. There was something contemplating in her eyes. As if she carefully weighed every word he said. She leaned back against the soft velvet cushions in her high throne of finely polished stone.

  “Oh, but he does. He most certainly does. You can see it in his eyes, can you not?”

  That the boy could, it was clear for anyone to see. The man didn’t even hide it in the slightest. The woman smiled a pleased smile when the boy nodded slowly.

  “He will not die; I will make sure of it. You yourself have received beatings just as harsh. And you most certainly live, do you not?”

  “Yes…” the boy nodded stiffly. He knew the truth of it. The man did deserve this fate… He stared into the eyes of the man, but his stare soon faltered.

  Was the crime worth all this? Why did the man before him accept his punishment with such complete calm? How could he know they would stop? How could he be so certain?

  A slight curve suddenly appeared upon the man’s lips. He smiled? Yes… he truly smiled! Blood dripped from a deep cut in his upper lip as he grinned. It was a hungry grin, the grin of a wolf.

  “Don’t cry, little brother. It is almost over.”

  Another hard kick levered the man flat to the ground. Crimson teeth gleamed in the fluttering torch light.

  “Soon we will be gone from this place. It’s not your fault.”

  The tall woman laughed a high pitched laugh.

  “Your brave brother is right! Soon you will be gone, far away, treading the trails of the world with newfound knowledge. It is time for you to lay claim to your own destiny.” She smiled gently for a second. But it was a fleeting thing.

  The beating ended and the woman’s two henchmen dragged the bloody and broken man to his feet. There they left him, swaying from side to side, until his brother rushed up to steady his near unconscious sibling.

  “Brothers Ravenscar, with the last dying embers of magic in your chests you are here-by banished from this place. Return and you shall face a most gruesome death.”

  There was a moment of silence as the two looked up at the woman where she sat on her lofty perch.

  As one the two brothers declared with clear voices. “It shall be as you command… mother.”