I knew them! They said otherwise, but I knew! I knew even back then, when the scales weighed on my eyes. It just took me time to see.
They hoard truth because lies give them power. They needed to lie, you see! Ever since I could walk! They told me I was useless! That I would have been better off strangled at birth, that I was born with flesh wrapped around my neck already, that only a soft-hearted midwife made sure I didn't die! My own brothers, all of them, despising me...because they knew! They knew what I was, and they hated it! Claim the truth, lock it away, fill it with lies!
A waste of air, they said! Who were they to speak? Hann the first born, heir apparent and never making sure I forgot, Josse with his constant insults, Tielo and his fists! Wybert, who would have been in my place had I not been born! What use was a fifth son to the Incael family, they said? Couldn't even bother being born without a horn: at least I could have been married off to some rich nobleman that way! As useful as dumping mud into a moat, that was what they said! And everyone listened! Listened and nodded their heads to the future king and his brothers, who just got to go first because they did! That was the truth! It was nothing but luck, but timing! The same luck that made mother fall down the stairs two years later! The same that made father so interested in expanding his silver mines, so that he was never around to tell Hann and the rest of my accursed brothers to stop with their lies! They weren't special, I wasn't useless...it was all just luck that gave them their power! They were weak, scared of the truth!
So many years, forced to live by their lies. Spending all my time down in the darkness beneath our castle with Uncle Bogumil. He'd lost a fortune more than once, so father didn't want him to have anything to do with our kingdom. Bad luck, that's all it was! Not a lack of skill, a lack of worth, just bad luck! But father declared his brother useless, just like my brothers did to me! Left him to wander around in that first vein, long empty, while away his days carving statues into the wall, widening the tunnels and building courses for natural springs to run through. A memorial, he said, a unique one that would show off the family once he and I were gone.
It took me years, but I saw all his creations for what it was. It was all he was allowed to do with what he had. It was sorrow over being unable to make more of his life. It was being shackled to the family, refusing to shame them by striking off on his own; success or failure, he'd make them look bad. Bearing the misery they heaped on him as if that was his due. They told him what his life was, and he accepted it. Made the most of what he was given.
When he died, I made sure he was buried down there, in the depths he'd devoted so much effort to. I made sure I finished every statue and carving he wanted to do. I bit my tongue as my brothers mocked my lack of sculpting skills, ignored the whispers of the nobles that treated with our house whenever we crossed paths, dismissed the fear in the eyes of our servants. Some sort of dark spawn, a freak, something that should not be, they said all that of me and much more. LIARS! I was nothing but what they made of me, NOTHING! They wanted me to be NOTHING!
Did they not understand? When the great forgotten truths of the ancient past rose, when the world was seized in the grip of the Fatespinner, when just what had awoken and all it commanded to do become clear to the world, the sheer terror of that realization...did they not see?
A worthless son, a waste of air, he would have broken. I. NEVER. BROKE.
The Raze came to our doorstep, we paid them in danegeld, more Terrae than I had ever seen or ever have seen...they should have battered our gates down ANYWAY, the treacherous wretches, had the Widowmaker not been distracted, not rode off to his doom. Did I open the gates to that army of consuming death? Did I betray my brothers who I hated so much, let them put Vurnir to the torch? I did not! I was willing to fight! It may have been just to save my own skin, but my brothers had made it clear that was all I had of value! Did I side with the Necromancer, her corrupting tides of dead? The Black Spider and his zealotry? Did Vurnir not take in refugees from the Ha'Secs Gem, incurring debts that still haven't been repaid? Did I ever oppose that shallow bit of mercy? Of all the storms the Speaker sent roiling across our world, of his terrible creations, his unending armies, his Elite, did I ever seek to marry my efforts to them? No! I stayed by my family's side.
And I saw. Saw the truth after Xaxargas showed the world just what it meant to Him, saw just what fate He planned to spin for us all. Saw the Twilight fall over us, the end of the world. Saw, at last, just what my brothers were.
I wanted to fight! I could have brought our armies into the chaos, I could have been a part of those terrible dark days! Even if we'd died, we would have died well! Died doing something, died BEING something! But my brothers cursed me, called me a mad fool, chased me down into the depths my uncle and I spent so much time in AND SEALED ME IN TO ENSURE MY HELPLESSNESS! And what did my precious brothers do with the end of the world approaching?
Noble, good, oh so respected Hann, cowering in the palace with his family. Josse and Tielo whiling away the days indulging every excess, father dead a year before and unable to stop them. Wybert, locking himself in the temple he built, praying for mercy, praying for deliverance, spewing word after worthless word as he grovelled before his alters, brought to his knees by his bone-softening fear! They did NOTHING! And I was the one cast out for refusing to believe their lie! Finally seeing the truth of it! They were the worthless ones! I...
I could have gone to the Blacklands. Even a worthless Incael is better than a a hundred thousand soldiers plucked from the rabble, the disgusting peasantry. I could have been one of the 44! They could have sung my name, heaped glories and rewards on me! But I didn't...because in those darkest days, the lie still dug deep. By the time I fully tore it from my heart and soul down in the depths, down surrounded by my uncle's middling works of what his life was, it was too late.
The world did not die. In its new day, I finally understood.
They didn't hate me because I was worthless. They hated me because I was the only one with worth. That I was meant to seize it, by any means necessary. That I had to, or else they would continue to define my life.
So I killed them. It was almost...easy. They'd lied to themselves for so long they couldn't understand the truth any more. I killed them and called it to me. And when it needed more to emerge, I gave it.
Now here I stand...what I was meant to be. Maybe some would say I have proven my brothers right, that I have brought myself and my people to ruin with my choices...but no. I am the only thing that matters, and I have done everything to ensure my due.
Crown Point...a means to an end. Almost...easy. Again. Bad blood, truth long lost in the need for lies. My men marched, still march against them with few questions. They accept the weapons I acquired with little discourse over the meaning of it. Does this make them strong, or weak? It doesn't matter any more. They've played their role, and if they all fell over dead in my next breath, I wouldn't spare them more than another in contemplation. Considering what they're meant to be...that might be kinder.
And the final key. My brothers' blood of their blood. What they claimed was their right as worthy to existence. What purpose is a body without a head? Better to die together than grow up alone. I speak from experience: it is no way to live. Their blood is better on my alter than flowing in their veins.
I have what I want. What I was meant to have. In my hands.
My advisers warned me of what would come should I undertake this path. They should feel fortunate I only exiled them. I know what would come for me should I take what's mine. Outrage. Opposition.
Marsello.
I should be honored. The Bloody Fire. Sang'firmot, as the Hemel call him. I have truly distinguished company coming.
Coming to take what belongs to me. Just like my brothers did. Just like my people. Just like everyone.
He can't have it. He has plenty. This is MINE, and I will let no one else steal it from me. Let him find his own betrayals to avenge, like I did. If he insists...
He's just another liar. A hero would be supporting me. This is just what I earned. The truth of things. How the story goes, as the world taught me.
Then the Bloody Fire will bleed first.
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