Neveah's words echoed in Jian's mind, fueling the rage he'd contained for so long.
He'd spent centuries believing he had to atone for something. He had erected an altar against the will of his council, against his better judgement...
When everyone else had chosen to forget, he had believed if he at least held him in his heart, they would one day be reunited.
That he would have a chance to make up for the betrayal that had weighed on his conscience for centuries.
That in another life, they could perhaps be brothers again. And he had sworn he would do better then...
But in the end, it was just his own wishful thinking.
Asrig was not a man worth saving. He'd never been. Their father had known it, when he'd entrusted the throne to Jian in his final wish, instead of Asrig.
And Jian should have seen that...if he wasn't too blinded by his own sentiments.
"You're no match for me." Asrig said pointedly, "Your control over the elements is inferior to dark magic."
