The Phoinix: Age of Demigods (20 page)

Remus’ heartache made it difficult to
breathe and made his pulse race. If he was not immortal, the pain
would surely kill him. Remus climbed on top of the wall and took
one more look at the palace. He could see the firelight in Romulus’
room. By now, he would be passed out and sprawled across his bed.
Remus needed to leave now or else he never would.

Remus spread his arms and leapt off
the edge into a swan dive. Being the son of the God of War had its
advantages. He curled out of his dive and flipped in the air. He
landed with one knee and one fist hitting the ground. Without
looking back, he mounted his horse and whipped its haunches. The
four men took off in a dead sprint into the forest.

* * *

The memory left a pounding pain in
Romulus’s chest. Resentment seeped out of his heart, filling his
mind and extremities with fury. Suddenly, Romulus broke out of the
spell in an explosion of a rage. He released a wave of power that
broke the invisible bonds that held him captive. Breaking the spell
broke the stone chains wrapped around Remus. The wave also sent
Brian and Cailean flying across the room, knocking them
unconscious.

Remus fell to the floor, panicking and
trying to catch his breath. He could feel his brother’s rage
outside the door. Remus scurried to his feet and wiped the
remaining tears from his cheek. He stood tall and wide in front of
the soldiers, as if protecting them from the harm that was about to
burst through the door.

Remus teemed with the type of
authority and confidence associated with Mars that had been dormant
since he left Palatine Hill. His confidence, which bordered
arrogance, gave the soldiers a fighting spirit for the oncoming
battle.

“You two!” Remus pointed to the two
soldiers closest to Brian and Cailean. “Wake them up. The rest of
you, may the gods be with you.”

Facing the door, Remus bounced from
side to side, every muscle tensed in anticipation. He could feel
Romulus ready to explode. His War senses on high alert, he smiled
at the familiar feeling of adrenalin pumping through his veins.
Remus truly was a warrior at heart and he loved it, no matter how
much or long he tried to hide it.

“
Come on, Rom. Come get
me,” Remus whispered to himself, but he was sure his brother could
hear him.

“Remus!
” Romulus let out a guttural bellow. “
How dare you!
”

“Get on with it, Brother. I can feel
the animosity boiling within you. Let it out, I promise you’ll feel
much better,” Remus taunted, smiling with the anticipation of the
fight he was about to have.

He dreaded it earlier, but now the
anticipation made him feel more alive than he felt in ages. He
lived for this moment. He was born for this moment.

Romulus pushed the soldiers holding
the ram out of his way, stood in front of the double doors, and
channeled his rage. His eyes glowed red as power flooded to his
arms. He slammed his fists into the doors, shattering the wood and
Cailean’s time spell. A combination of dust and debris clouded the
hallway and throne room.

The only two left standing were Remus
and Romulus. Through the cloud of dust, the soldiers could hear the
sound of metal scraping together. They hurried to their feet to
defend their corresponding king, but they could barely see the
person next to them. They had no idea where to charge.

Once the dust settled, Romulus’
soldiers charged into the room where they met Remus’ hoplite army.
The center of the army glided backwards, luring the bulk of
Romulus’ soldiers inward while the soldiers on the outside rushed
in to circle them. The sound of swords clashing against shields and
the screeching of metal armor filled the throne room. Wails of pain
echoed as archers ambushed soldiers as they rushed through the
door.

The tight squeeze of the doorway made
Romulus’ army vulnerable to this type of attack; soldiers and
archers easily picked them off. Romulus’ army dwindled, until his
Gàidheal allies arrived. Their magic sent Remus’ soldiers flying in
all directions, while Gàidheal archers marched through the doorway
firing arrows at an unbelievable pace, matching Brian’s archers’
power and speed.

Aeneos and Brathadair, the chief of
the MacCathail clan, attacked the still unconscious ó Conaill
brothers. Two members of the Clan ó Conaill, Eadan and Drostan,
caught the edges of Aeneos’ and Brathadair’s swords with their
shields and knocked them back from the brothers. Drostan attacked
while Aeneos and Brathadair were off balance, while Eadan tried to
shake Brian and Cailean awake.

“Master Cailean! Wake up, we’re
falling apart,” Eadan shook Cailean’s shoulder “Clan MacCathail
arrived and Brathadair knows you are here.”

Cailean groaned and sat up, holding
the back of his head. Eadan turned back to his outnumbered friend
and ran to help Drostan. Eadan fought Brathadair while Drostan
focused on Aeneos. Before Cailean raised his sword, Aeneos ripped
Drostan’s shield off his arm and slashed through his abdomen. At
the same time, Brathadair lunged with his sword, but Eadan jumped
out of the way. Brathadair then waved his arm and magically sent
Eadan soaring into a pillar.

Brathadair walked over to the injured
Eadan and lifted his sword to make a fatal blow. Suddenly, a
searing pain coursed through his head. Cailean, finally on his
feet, held an arm in the air with his fist clenched, magically
causing Brathadair’s pain. Cailean conjured a siren to blare in
Brathadair’s mind, causing his vision to blur and blood to drip
from his ears.

While Cailean concentrated on
neutralizing Brathadair, Aeneos crept up behind him ready to drive
his sword into Cailean’s back. Before Aeneos thrust his sword, he
rose off the ground with his airway closing as if someone lifted
him by the throat.

Brian stood behind Aeneos with an arm
extended in the same manner as Cailean. Aeneos tried to speak, but
could only make wheezing noises as Brian clenched his fist tighter,
restricting his airflow. “Did you honestly expect that I would let
you live, let alone speak after you tried to kill my
brother?”

As Brian’s rage flared, his eyes
changed from blue to shining silver and his grip around Aeneos’
throat tightened. The mild tempered chief of the ó Conaill Clan
could no longer control his fury. The thought of losing his baby
brother kept replaying in his mind. Anger brewed in his stomach,
burning through his chest and arms. In a quick turn of his wrist,
Aeneos’ necked snapped and his body crumbled to the ground. Brian
ran to Cailean’s side.

“Go help the others, I will deal with
Brathadair,” Brian ordered Cailean.

Cailean nodded, but before leaving, he
gripped Brian’s shoulder. He heard what Brian said to Aeneos before
killing him. “I’m alright, Bri,” Cailean said. The corner of his
mouth rose slightly in appreciation for his brother’s
concern.

“You won’t be, if you don’t get over
there and help those men,” grunted Brian, never taking his eyes off
Brathadair.

Cailean squeezed Brian’s shoulder
tighter, signaling his concern for the pending fight between Brian
and Brathadair. He then ran towards the bulk of the battle. Cailean
did not slow down as he jumped into the thick of the fight,
swinging his sword left and right, deflecting and jabbing. The
sight of him weaving in and out of harm’s way uplifted the
soldiers’ spirits and a burst of ferocity took Brathadair’s clan by
surprise.

Cailean’s presence was a turning point
in the battle.

When Brathadair turned around, Brian
already had his sword above his head, ready to cut into Brathadair
with one downward blow.

Brathadair shouted,
“
Le Gaoth
!” and a
gust of wind sent Brian soaring backwards before he completed his
attack.

“It looks as if your younger brother
is the one with the brains in the family. At least he knew better
than to attack me without magic,” Brathadair teased as Brian
climbed back to his feet. He smiled excitedly, motioning around the
room. “This battle will be the end of an era, Brian. Who would have
thought that you and I would be the bringers of it? Then again, you
and I have been there since the begin…”

“Teine
!” Brian shouted as he sent a ball of fire hurling at
Brathadair’s head.

Brathadair barely had time to deflect
the attack with his sword.

“You are not the only one who can
manipulate the elements, Brathadair.”

“Fire is how this all began, Bri, or
don’t you remember the day of prophecy? After all, you and I were
Eversor’s best students.”

“Do not concern yourself with my
memories. Prophecies never end in the way you suspect,” Brian said
as he circled his foe.

“Look around you, Brian. Love and War
will always result in devastating loss. This day is the product of
an ancient love and a battle destined for death.”

Brian swung his sword at Brathadair’s
head, but Brathadair lurched backwards as the tip of the blade
narrowly missed his nose. In his avoidance of Brian’s sword,
Brathadair tripped over his own feet and fell backwards. His sword
slid across the room where Cailean stopped it with his foot. With a
flick of his ankle, Brathadair’s sword flung up into Cailean’s
hand.

Brathadair looked beyond Cailean to
find the o’Conaill clan herding up his own. On the opposite side of
the room, Remus’ army gathered Romulus’ soldiers’ weapons and tied
ropes around their wrists. Brathadair knew this battle was over and
that he lost. He turned back to Brian with a wicked
grin.

Brian, anticipating what Brathadair
would do, jabbed his sword as quickly as he could. However,
Brathadair vanished with a snap of his fingers.

“Arghhhhh!” Brian slashed his sword
through the air.

Brian’s face turned scarlet at his
lost attempt of killing Brathadair. He clenched his fists so tight
his knuckles were white. Cailean was surprised Brian lost his
composure in front of his clan and stood back to let him
vent.

Behind Cailean, a loud crash and the
sound of metal scraping against stone disrupted Brian’s venting.
Cailean and Brian whipped around to see Remus lying on the ground
against a stone pillar.

“It won’t be that easy to kill me,
brother,” Remus coughed, wiping his mouth and streaking blood on
the backside of his hand.

Romulus smiled crookedly. “What fun
would that be?”

Romulus raised his sword again, but
this time Remus was too quick for him. Remus swung his sword upward
with such force Romulus’ breastplate split in two, exposing a
ripped purple tunic.

“Quit now, Rom. I was always better at
strategy than you,” Remus said, now standing over his
brother.

“That may be so, but I was always the
better swordsman.”

From his belt, Romulus drew a dagger
and hurled it at Remus. The dagger flew through the air at a speed
no mortal man could dodge. However, Remus rolled out of the way
then jumped back to his feet. The dagger lodged deep into the
pillar where Remus had been standing. No ordinary feat of strength
could pull that dagger out of the stone.

Brian looked at the hilt of the dagger
and noticed something familiar about the design.

Remus and Romulus circled each other,
baiting the other to strike first. Remus removed his breastplate to
match his brother.

“Now we are even,” Remus added, “Twins
at all times.”

“Not at all times, Remmy,” Romulus
lunged at his brother, but Remus once again deflected with his
sword. He grabbed Romulus’ wrist with his free hand and smashed him
into the wall behind him.

When Romulus turned around, his nose
bled and he spat out blood.

Remus raised his sword so the tip of
the blade rested against Romulus’ collarbone. “Please, Brother,
don’t make me kill you. You know what the prophecy is. Pluto’s
words are fate. Don’t make it like this,” Remus begged.

“Why do you think I am here, Remmy?
How could a prophecy be complete if we are never together?” Romulus
eyebrows furrowed and sighed in pity. He spoke with sorrow, void of
malicious intent.

“Look around, Romulus. You’ve lost,”
Remus said with his arms spread wide, gesturing to the room. “Your
men are bound and your Gaels have let you down. Just let it go. We
can return to who we were.”

Romulus’ anger loosened when Remus
said they could regain their former glory as twins. A sense of
peace washed over him and the grip on his sword relaxed. He missed
his brother so much that he let grief turn to hatred.

Out of the corner of his eye, Romulus
saw the dagger glisten in the sunlight peeking through the windows.
The feeling of peace vanished and his facial expression turned
blank as if in a trance. He hurdled over Remus like an acrobat,
somersaulting over his head and landing gracefully behind him.
Romulus swept the dagger out from the pillar with ease.

When Remus twisted around to face his
brother, Romulus drove the dagger into his brother’s unprotected
chest. Stunned, Remus stumbled backwards to the wall and slid to
the ground. He watched his brother slowly walk towards him. Instead
of seeing Romulus happy at his deathblow, shock covered his face.
He stared at his hands in disbelief, not realizing what he had
done.