Fallen for Corruption

Once he believed he fought for humanity and righteousness, or so he thought. In reality, everything he did became a means to an end. The enemy still remained unscathed, while he worried about doing the right thing every step he took along the path to victory. He found himself wondering what the right thing even meant. Could he even achieve anything, if righteousness was his only concern? What person has ever achieved power and influence without treating his actions like a means to an end? The only way to achieve his goals was to become what the enemy feared. 

At least, that thought became his consolation, when the targets he was sent to assassinate all fell one by one at his feet. Some begged for mercy. Lesh begged him to spare his life in exchange for a place at the throne instead of the rightful heir of Belgora - Mratin. Krav didn't hesitate for a moment. Blood gushed from the man's juggular and he abandoned the body in its death throes without looking back. He couldn't look back. The sight would have made him sick, instead of invoke the thirst that made his vision tunnel. Perhaps humanity did not leave him after all, if he could look at a vulnerable creature and turn away from it. Isn't that the most notable trait of the human being? 

The Magi was not so gracious, as to beg for his life. He died a hero, on his two feet, without regret or remorse, burned in his own fire magicks. An ironic death for a proud man, Krav thought, as he watched the last of his flesh turn to embers and crumble into charred ashes. He used a mirror to reflect his own spell back to him, that much he knew in the art of the arcane. And as a vain man, the magi surrounded himself in mirrors, so that he could gaze into the reflection of what he had made of himself. 

The last to give up his life was Mratin, princess Rana's brother, and rightful heir to the throne of Belgora. Krav wondered what went on through her head, when she commanded him to kill her brother, when he spent his life trying to protect those he deemed as close. Did regret fester even a single corner of her heart? Did they not share good memories that could halt the verdict she judged him with in her mind, at least? 

"What good does killing me give you?" Mratin had asked. "You will only doom us all to a fate worse than death."

"I have to. For the sake of humanity. My own humanity."

Clash!

Sparks flew from their clashing swords, as metal ground against metal. 

"You fool. You think murder is the way to preserve humanity?! If you believe that, then you're no better than the enemy we both want to destroy."

Krav didn't answer. He refused to listen to words that could have planted the worm of confusion in his actions. He let his body take over, as they fought in the crumbling fortress Mratin had made his home at the edge of the world. 

"Join me! Humanity must stand together when faced with an adversary, not please him with more murder! Did you not have your fair share of death already?"

"I have no choice. And thus, I made my decision."

"Rana sent you, hasn't she?" Mratin sneered, as if he had cornered a prey. "That shameless wench would do anything to claw at the throne and grow roots on it. If you fight for her, you are nothing more than a lackey to her corruption."

"You abandoned her to fend for herself, when Vrag cursed your kingdom." Krav reasoned.

"And who do you think brought this curse on us in the first place?!"

The swing Krav prepared to strike with stuttered for a second. 

"That's right. She summoned the cursed one to kill me and your king, our father."

"That's not possible!" Krav roared in a sudden fit of possessive fury. "She is the one who searches for a way to banish him!"

"Indeed. After losing control over him and losing her own life, in return." Mratin spewed in a venomous voice. "What did she promise you? To be king next to her?" He laughed. The mockery stung. 

The matter was that she never promised him anything. She never said any grand words to convince him. Somehow that made him feel worse. He helped her out of the kindness of his blind, trusting heart. And if he said it to Mratin, while he kneeled and breathed his last breaths, he would have died laughing from how foolish Krav sounded. Mercenaries sold their souls for profit. Hopeless romantics died for an ideal. But Krav? He felt robbed because of how cheap he sold his help for. Nothing, except the promise of a fleeting kiss. It enraged him. Hurt him more than what Mratin had told him. He fought for the villain and didn't receive a single thing in return.

The worm of doubt had festered in his mind by the time he returned to the tower, where she waited. She greeted him with an embrace, which felt too warm for someone so cold. 

"Is it done?" she asked.

"Did you summon Vrag?"

The question took her aback.

"Did you cause all this because you wanted the throne?"

The dead silence that followed had nothing to do with her guilt or discomfort. She regretted him finding out. Yet, deep down she knew it was meant to happen.

"I did."

"Why?! Why dabble in dark magic, when you know none of us can control it?!" He shouted, making her stagger a step back. "Do you know how much pain you caused me? To Belgora?! All for what? The chance to rule for a few years? I lost everything because of you!" He should have struck her on the spot, stabbed her until the last spark of life left her corrupted, undead body. But he stayed his blade. Those eyes, too meek for someone so corrupted mesmerized him even if she didn't glance a single time in his direction.

"You don't know what it's like, do you?" She spoke with a low, broken voice, still frozen in place. "You don't know what it's like to have your fate decided at birth. I was a pawn since birth. Since the moment I saw the first light out of the womb, my life was predetermined like a written book. I was meant to marry some lowly lord from the land of nowhere and live my life, locked away as a trophy, while my brother gathered all the ovaries of the people and our father's titles and riches."

Silence. 

"I didn't anticipate this outcome, believe me. But for as long as I live and breathe, I can fix my mistakes."

He should have walked away then. But whatever held him from breaking the shackles this woman chained him in, he cursed it with every thought that ran through his mind.