When Nero came to, he was in his room, tucked into bed. His vision and memory were both fuzzy. What had happened? The last thing he remembered was talking to Faeryn, and—

“Faeryn…”

Angry tears filled his eyes. He hadn’t been able to save him. He covered his face and sobbed. He couldn’t make sense of any of it. It had all happened too fast.

His father entered the room, and Nero’s chest tightened with rage.

“Get out,” he demanded through clenched teeth. “I have nothing to say to you.”

Father ignored him and sat down in a chair beside the bed with a heavy sigh. He looked tired—he had dark circles under his eyes and he was dressed more casually than normal, not wearing his cape or crown.

“Why are you so intent on distressing your mother and me?” he questioned and crossed his arms. He looked over Nero critically, and Nero clenched his fists.

“Me?” Nero let out a forced, sarcastic laugh. “Why should I care about how you feel? You don’t care about how I feel. You murdered my friend!”

“That heathen betrayed both you and your kingdom, and you still want to take his side? I won’t allow you to—”

“Get out of my room!” Nero shouted.

Father scowled, but didn’t say anything more about it. He got up and stormed out. He slammed the door so hard that the bang echoed through the halls, and the items on Nero’s dresser rattled.

Nero turned over and covered his head with his blanket and closed his eyes tightly. He wanted to wake up from whatever nightmare he’d been stuck in for the last few months. He wanted things to go back to normal. Why couldn’t he just wake up and have it be his eighteenth birthday again. He would get his magic power and move on with life like he should have.

Nero spent a week holed up in his room before he finally got up. He’d spent most of the time sleeping or crying over Faeryn. He went to the library, where Faeryn’s helpers were working hard to keep the library neat. They stopped in their tracks and bowed to Nero.

“Your Highness,” the young girl said quietly, “we heard about the Knowledge Keeper. We just—”

“You can both do magic, can’t you?” Nero asked, and they both gave him a curious look. “Do you know any protection spells?”

“A few,” the other helper said. “The Knowledge Keeper taught us spells to protect the more precious books in this collection, in case the kingdom is ever attacked.”

“Cast it on all the books,” he told them, “even the common ones. Do whatever you can to protect the knowledge that Faeryn collected here. Protect them from anything you can—physical damage, fire, water, everything. Whatever spells you know. Cast them all.”

“Sire?”

“My father hated Faeryn. I don’t trust him not to destroy this library. He might try to destroy the books. Just do it.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

When Nero was in the halls, he could feel the judgmental gazes of the nobles, and he could hear the whispers about how he had been associated with the Keeper of Knowledge. Many people believed that Nero was purposely involved or even brainwashed by Faeryn. Ridiculous. He didn’t know anything about what Faeryn had been doing, and he had no idea why either.

He crossed paths with his father in one of the corridors, and he blocked Nero’s path.

“Are you done throwing you tantrum?” Father asked, and Nero scowled.

“Don’t start with me,” he told him. “Get out of my way.”

“Get to the barracks and continue your training with the Royal Guard.”

Nero laughed, but it was forced out of anger.

“I’m not doing anything for you. I’ve wasted enough of my life being pushed around. You’re nothing but a tyrant—I just never really saw it until now. Anzino supports a broken system set by the Arnaldos that favors blood-born mages over others. You don’t get to execute people just because you don’t like them or because they don’t like you.”

“He was conspiring to kill me and take over the kingdom,” Father said, narrowing his eyes at Nero. “You’re really going to side with that heathen even after he was executed for High Treason?”

“What’s going on?” Daemon asked as he approached them with their mother. He looked curiously between Nero and their father.

“Are you two fighting again?” Mother asked. She placed her hand on Nero’s arm. “Nero, try to understand. You just—”

“No, you try to understand,” he snarled, yanking his arm out of his mother’s reach. “I’ve had enough of this. This family has done nothing for centuries but bully people into submission through the use of powerful blood-born magic. It’s tyranny, and it needs to end.”

“Nero, what are you talking about?” Mother looked confused, and Father looked angry, but Nero didn’t care anymore. He’d spent all week in his room trying to make sense of it all.

There was so much history of Anzino that wasn’t taught. No one knew how much influence the Arnaldo family pushed on the nobles and what they did to stay in power for so long. All of the knowledge was now in Nero’s head, given to him by Faeryn before he died.

“The tyranny of Sorcerers needs to end,” Nero stated. “The only way to end it is to have someone who isn’t a Sorcerer on the throne. So, I’m declaring Duellum Magica.”

Mother gasped and covered her mouth, Father scowled, and Daemon laughed. There were a few nobles in the halls that had stopped what they were doing, watching and listening. The corridor echoed with gossiping whispers. It wouldn’t be long before everyone knew what Nero had just said.

“Are you insane?” Daemon asked. “Do you even know what you’re saying?”

“Since you’re all so fixated on controlling my life, I’ll just defeat you in the arena and do things my own way.”

“Use your head, boy,” Father said, taking a threatening step towards Nero. “I don’t know what has gotten into you lately, but I don’t like it.”

“Settle it in the arena, then.”

“What do you think you can do in the arena?” Daemon asked. “You have no power.”

“I can still beat you! I don’t need magic.”

Daemon laughed and walked away, and Nero clenched his fists, trying to keep his composure. The truth was, he really wasn’t sure if he could defeat his father or Daemon in Duellum Magica. He knew he could defend himself against their magic, but it wasn’t perfect, and Nero wasn’t as physically strong as either of them. That wasn’t the point though. Winning didn’t matter.

“Declaring Duellum Magica against your own family?” Father shook his head with disdain. “You really have lost your mind.”

“I know every law of this kingdom, and you know the terms of Duellum Magica. You can’t refuse it, otherwise you admit defeat and relinquish your title to me. Only blood relatives of the Royal Family can duel for the crown.”

Father scowled and turned away, ushering Mother along with him.

“I hope you know what you’ve done. Don’t regret what happens in the end.”

“You murdered my friend,” Nero said, standing alone in the hallway as they walked away. “I’m going to take that crown from you, fair and square, without magic, and end the tyranny of Sorcerers in Anzino.”

There was a week to prepare, but he didn’t spend it training. He was in the library, aided by Faeryn’s two assistants. They spent the entire week combing through the books and making sure all of the knowledge was protected. He was certain that if his father got angry enough, he would try to destroy them.

The day of the duel, Nero’s stomach was in knots. He had a plan, but what if it didn’t work? What if he lost? What if he died?

He couldn’t focus on gruesome thoughts, though. He wasn’t helpless—he could take on both Father and Daemon with the skills he’d learned growing up and from Faeryn.

“Sire,” one of the library mages said quietly, “I know it’s not really my place to speak on such matters, but why do you stay in this castle? Why bother following through with this duel? You could just leave this place. Master Faeryn wouldn’t want you to throw your life away on his behalf. He wanted to get out of Anzino, as well.”

“It’s not a simple task for me to just leave,” he told her. “I’m one of the princes. I can’t just go. My father would just drag me back. The only way for me to truly be free of this is to win the duel or die. It’s not just about Faeryn anymore.”

Standing across from Father in the arena, Nero willed himself to stay calm, and hoped no one could see him trembling. As far as fighting against magic, he’d only ever worked with Faeryn. He knew Father and Daemon both had different fighting styles—they were both more about brute strength than tactics.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Father asked. “You know you can’t win. Even if by some crazy miracle you were able to defeat me, do you honestly think you can beat your brother? He’s one of the strongest mages to ever come out of this kingdom.”

“You have no idea what I’m capable of. Just because I can’t do magic, it doesn’t mean I’m completely helpless. I'll show you the results of my own training. I don’t need magic to beat either of you.”

“We’ll see about that.”

A horn blew to initiate the duel, and Father immediately unleashed a barrage of lightning at Nero. People in the crowd gasped and screamed, and Nero’s mother covered her mouth in horror.

Instead of striking him, Nero put out his hands. Using swift movements, he guided the lightning and launched it back towards his father, where it exploded at his feet. The power of the explosion knocked both of them back away from each other, and they both landed on their backs in the dirt.

Nero’s eyes were wide, his mouth gaping as he sat up. Was Father trying to kill him?

“What was that?” Father asked, struggling to get back on his feet. “How did you do that?”

“I already told you,” Nero said. He stood and brushed the dirt off the back of his pants before he took a defensive stance. “I don’t need magic to defeat you!”

“You’re embarrassing yourself! Everything you’ve been doing lately has brought shame to this family. You would have been better off if you had just run away!”

“Shut up and fight!”

Father unleashed his power again with a cry of rage, and Nero put out his hand to stop it. The lightning burst in front of him like it had hit an unseen wall, but the shockwave was more powerful that the first one. It threw Nero back against the arena wall, and he cried out in pain as he fell to his knees, trying to catch his breath.

Faeryn’s attacks had never been so strong—he always held back out of fear of hurting Nero, but now he was in real danger, wasn’t he? Could he really defeat Father? What else could he do?

Wind started to whip around Nero, stirring with his father’s anger and charged with electricity. He put his arms up to protect his face as it cut at his skin. It stung like razors. How could he protect himself from the air around him? There was only so much he could do with his abilities.

“Just give up,” Father said. He was approaching Nero threateningly, and he could feel his anger rising. “You can’t beat me. You have no hope of ever defeating your brother, either. Admit defeat and get out of my sight!”

“I won’t!”

Nero waved his arms, sending the biting wind back at his father, who easily dispersed it with a wave of his hand. As he did, he was forced back by a punch from Nero, who’d used the wind to distract his father in order to get in close.

He got a couple of good hits in on his father, but once he got a grasp on the situation, he was able to force Nero back with a blast of wind. Nero stood there, breathing heavily. His arms stung and they were bleeding from the little cuts Father’s wind has caused.

“We’ve barely even started, and look at the condition you’re in,” Father told him, gesturing at the wounds on Nero’s arms. “You just don’t know when to give up, do you? You can’t defeat a mage without magic.”

“You’re wrong. I don’t need magic. Anzino doesn’t need magic. I’m going to win, and when I do, I’m going to make this kingdom a better place for everyone, including those without magic!”

He rushed forward, but it was a reckless, predictable move, and Father grabbed Nero’s arm and twisted it. He forced him to his knees, and then pushed him down into the dirt.

“How noble,” Father said with a forced laugh, “but you’re never going to win.”

Using fluid hand movements, he conjured water that surrounded Nero before he could defend himself against the magic. He was forced to hold his breath as he was caught up in the swirling water before he was slammed back down onto the ground on his back. He lay at his father’s feet, coughing and gasping for air.

“I wonder if I should even bother finishing you off with magic,” Father said. He cracked his knuckles, a sinister smirk on his face. “It doesn’t seem fair, does it? Then again, you are the one who declared Duellum Magica with no magic of your own.”

He waited until Nero got to his feet before rushing forward, swinging at him with deadly precision. The first hit send a painful shock up Nero’s arm, and he realized his father had coated his fists in his lightning magic. The hits were painful and went through his whole body. All he could do was try to defend himself as he was forced back until he had nowhere left to go, pressed against the arena wall.

Father continued to strike him, and all Nero could do was put his arms up to try to protect himself.

The truth was, it pained him to fight this way. He used to be close to his father and the rest of his family, but their relationship had changed as Nero got older. It had all but collapsed entirely when they had found out Nero couldn’t wield magic.

He knew he couldn’t win. The different in raw, brute strength was too great, and there was only so much Nero could do against Father. He stopped fighting back, and Father stopped attacking him.

“Are you finally admitting defeat?” Father asked, breathing heavily. It must have been taking a lot out of him, to be dueling at his age. “You chose this path, so live with the consequences.”

“I didn’t get to choose,” Nero said. “Is this really what you want?”

“Shut up, Nero. Either surrender or fight!”

Father struck out again, and Nero caught his fist, canceling out the lightning magic.

“I’m going to change things around here,” he said, “even if it kills me!”

Nero finally went on the offensive then, knocking away his father’s magic-laced fists. He was able to disperse the magic and force him back, but he could also see the growing frustration on his father’s face. He would likely try something more forceful soon. He needed to end the duel.

He couldn’t back down. He had to prove his strength as someone without magic. He wasn’t sick or broken or cursed. He was strong too, wasn’t he?

“Enough!” Father snapped. He grabbed Nero and then knocked him back with a hard knee to the stomach.

Nero lay on his back, trying to catch his breath, and his father unleashed an immense display of lightning magic, even greater than the one Daemon had shown at their coming-of-age celebration. It crashed down from the sky directly on top of Nero, who put his hand up to stop it.

The explosion threw Father back against the arena wall. There was gasps and cries of horror, and both Daemon and the Queen stood, their eyes wide with terror as they scanned the arena.

When the smoke cleared, the King was slumped over against the wall, bloody and unconscious. There were more cries and shouting from the crowd.

In the center of the arena, there was a huge, smoking crater full of burning embers. Nothing was left of Nero, not even his bones.

“Nero!” The Queen screamed and fell to her knees, sobbing loudly.

Daemon just stood there, his eyes wide and body trembling as he stared at the crater where his brother had been a moment earlier.