[open] From A Hemlock Tree; EVERYONE/MANDATORY

[magnus]

we carry these things inside that no one else can see
they hold us down like anchors; they drown us out at sea

Magnus did not get angry easily. His entire youth had been a lesson in the dangers of his temper—the way it could get away from you like a wildfire on dry brush. He had paid the price of it before and the memories were still branded on him, their marks vicious and cruel—teeth that sunk into flesh and never let go. So he did not allow himself to speak much further, not yet. Instead his gold-flecked eyes just continued to smolder and spark, the tangled length of his forelock doing little to hide their slow burn.

All of this was too familiar. Thrones being passed to those who had not sweat and bled for the kingdom; thrones being used as a pawn in someone’s game. The memory of it made him flinch, his flesh contracting violently as he continued to stare at Zeik, a thunderstorm brewing beneath his normally calm exterior.

Finally, he took a step forward, talking to Zeik one-on-one, the rest of his kingdom mates fading into the background. “You claim you are doing something for this kingdom. That you are doing what we could not.” He scoffed, mouth pulling downward. “You seek to rule this place and do so by insulting those who stand before you. Those who have recruited and fought and lived here far longer than you. You dare insinuate that only you of those before you were willing to stand up and do something for the kingdom.”

He shook his heavy-jawed face, scarred lips pulling into a deep scowl.

“Then, you claim you do so not for power. Yet you ask that we call you King.”

The laughter that followed was as harsh as a bullet, unsticking from his mouth and piercing the air. It had been a long while since he had given into this side of him, since he had allowed himself to feel the fury that now rolled through his veins, as thick as smoke. “I will continue to serve the Gates, as I always have. I will continue to do what I can for this kingdom and its inhabitants.” He stepped back, nodding at the others around them in acknowledgment before settling his gaze on the stallion, breath rattling from his lungs.

“But, believe me when I say this, Zeik: you are no King of mine.”

Then, before he lost all control, he turned and left the gathering.

magnus