Stormbringer: King

T W E L V E

"The soldiers were unnerved by
the general's death,
with whispers of there being a traitor
in their midst."

・ ・ ・

Storm sat on the bench outside the medical centre's Treatment Room, his face buried in his hands, shoulders slumped. Xenor stood a distance away from him, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest.

The sound of Liss' sniffles came from within the Treatment Room, sorrowful and heart-wrenching. Storm grimaced, drawing in a shuddery breath, trying to calm the thuds of his cracked heart, trying to shut out the muffled cries of his mother.

If only to block the grief swamping his mind.

Father.

The image of Bayne's broken body flashed through his mind. His breathing wavered, and he squeezed his eyes shut.

Father...!

A soft sob rose in his throat, and he tried to choke it down. It escaped his lips before he could.

There was a clacking of heels beside him as Xenor shifted his weight from one foot to another.

Bayne couldn't be dead. Storm didn't want to believe it. Yet, he couldn't erase the image of his father's corpse from his mind.

He couldn't erase the bloodshed and horrors he had seen with his own two eyes.

A few minutes later, the noises died down. The door opened then, quietly creaking, and out stepped Zana, followed by Silix and Rosemary.

"Zana," Storm gasped out, rubbing his sore, watery eyes, "how is Mother?"

The Head Cleric gave him a strained smile. "She's calmed down, and is currently resting." She took out a toothpick from her pocket and gnawed on it, rubbing her temple. Her shoulders sagged. "But her mental state is still quite fragile. Unsteady. It'll take a while for her to properly stabilise."

Storm bit on his lip, lowering his head. "... I see," he said in a hushed voice, clenching his fists.

Xenor heaved a breath from where he stood, pinching the bridge of his nose. Storm glanced at his brother. Ever since they discovered Bayne's body in his chambers earlier in the morning, he had not shown any form of grief, nor any form of emotions for that matter.

Absolutely nothing.

His face was a constant blank mask, eyes unrevealing, like stone.

He hadn't even uttered a single word.

It was unnerving.

Storm pressed his lips together, staring at the floor. He felt a hand on his shoulder, and he looked up to see Silix. The advisor smiled softly at him, his indigo eyes mournful.

It was a soft touch.

Storm managed a crooked smile back at him in appreciation.

"We will make preparations for His Majesty's funeral after Her Majesty recovers," the advisor said, patting his back. "I hope you are alright with that, Your Highnesses."