Impossible.
That was the word that kept coming to Lyle’s head as he beheld what could only be classified as an impossibility.
He had killed him. He was certain there was no means of survival for him. He had pierced his heart directly. Over a dozen shadow arrows pierced his body.
There was no way he should have survived that. No man could have survived that.
He even saw him fall to his death!
He saw his obituary!
So how?
How was that same man standing in front of him?
"Why have you stopped? Go on, run." Barak urged him mockingly, his wife standing possessingly at his side.
Thaddeus, ready to defend his master, had drawn his sword and stood in front of Lyle with both fear and confusion in his eyes. Next to him was the man who had brought the report of the tragonian army entering the forest of the damned. He too stood with his sword drawn.
While Lyle trembled... trembled with unbelief.
Unbelief that was quickly brewing into rage as he lifted his good hand, pointing a finger at the man before him. "I—I killed you."
"The pride in your words is quite infuriating," Neriah sneered.
His gaze rested upon her and his lips parted to speak once again. "Neriah, you—" he wanted to ask if she had actually betrayed him. If so, since when?
He was certain he had her under his control. Even the times when she had screamed it to him that she was no longer in love with him, that she had fallen in love with a barbarian, he was certain she was still under his control.
Everything was going as he planned, was what he thought.
He still had her wrapped around his fingers, he had believed.
She would always fall back into his arms when the time was right, so he had planned.
When she had come in search of him after her husband’s death, he had foreseen it already, that she would return to him, to beg him, because that was his plan. He had groomed her into someone who would never leave his side.
So no matter how much she believed she loved someone else, she would eventually come to realize he, Lyle, was the one for her.
Because he had her wrapped around his fingers.
So when?
When did she begin to loosen herself from his hold?
When did she unwrap herself from within his fingers without him ever noticing?
When?
The question was at the tip of his tongue, yet he could not bring himself to ask. His pride wouldn’t let him. Somewhere in him, he still wanted to believe, he could control her.
Yet he knew... she had broken loose.
"Oh, dear goddess, that look on your face is almost worth the trouble you have caused us all," Neriah snickered next to her husband. "Yet not even close." The grin faded from her face.
"You really believed I would run into your arms again, didn’t you? Oh how gullible you must have thought me to be." The more she thought about it, the more she realized how foolish she had actually been all along.
All those times she believed he loved her and she, him. "How tremendously foolish you must have deemed me as," From the very start she had been foolish. "To think that I would gladly fall into the arms of the man who killed my husband. I see how stupid I had made myself seem in your eyes."
"Your Highness, we have no time for this." Thaddeus whispered to his master. "We need to get out of here first." Seeing that it was just Barak in sight, escaping the dragon prince wouldn’t be an easy feat, but at least they could try.
Although the last time it had taken not just his master’s black magic but a dagger straight into his heart, and also tens of men to handle the dragon prince.
Even though unlike last time they had no advantage whatsoever over the barbarian. Thaddeus wanted to have hope that they could find a way of escape even now.
If Lyle used his black magic, maybe, just maybe they could flee.
"I killed you." again said Lyle, whose unbelief had finally morphed into full rage as he stepped forward, disregarding Thaddeus who stood in front of him to protect him. "I killed you! I saw you die!" He bellowed.
"Indeed," Barak finally spoke again. "You did. And oh, how painful it was." It had been a horrible night, and the days that followed were even worse. Remembering the physical and emotional torment he was subjected to was enough to spike his rage.
His gaze hardened, fixated upon Lyle as he said... "I shall be sure to recompense every pain. Severing your hand was just the start."
"S-severing m-my hand—" He had not wanted to think much of it. Nay, he had thought about it... The bastard who had dared to harm him and steal Neriah from his hands. He was going to find the man and tear him limb from limb.
Once the thought had crossed his mind that it could have been him... could have been Barak Der Drache. However, he did not want to believe the prince could have survived. He did not want to believe he had failed.
So he cast the thought aside.
Yet...
Evidence of his failure was standing right before him, and worse he had lost his hand to the very man he despised.
His eyes reddened, every muscle in him tightened. His veins threatened to burst.
Lyle’s anger had reached his head. His gaze shifted from Neriah who stood with defiant eyes, to Barak who wasn’t supposed to be alive.
"Why?" his voice low and laced with rage flowed into the quickening air, "Why do you always take what is mine?" Followed by the question was a little quake in the ground.
"Every time, you have always taken from me. Every time, you have stolen from me, why? Why?!!" He screamed and the sky rumbled, his blue eyes slowly began to be corrupted with black. The lines of his veins on his skin were turning black.
He was going to use dark magic... As they had expected.
"Not anymore. Today I shall destroy you forever, so that you can never take what is mine, ever again!!"