Stefan moved silently into the dim room. Dim and dark, the two main things it had been after her death. His father had loved her so much, and now there was nothing. Just a silent reminder that the pain would never stop. His gaze swept over the throne, where he expected to find his father waiting for his homecoming.

He had been summoned from abroad. His father's reign was at an end, and he was the proclaimed heir to the life of the bloodstone.

Stefan's dark eyes fell on the unmoving form that lay on the cold floor. Moving swiftly, he was kneeling ablove the figure in an instant. He was dead, Stefan could tell, the wound in his flesh proved it. Stefan felt a single tear fall down his cheek as he grasped the realization of his father's death.

Evil, suddenly grasping him by the throat. An evil that was, in a sick way, an eternal part of his being. The melancholic, raspy voice, whispering deathly words of no regret.

His father's killer.

Murderer.

Hate, an emotion that was suddenly overcoming his grief. His hate for the murderer of his own father, the murderer's father. His brother, half of his blood. Then as suddenly gone. The evil vanishes with the holder.

"Radu...."

THE END

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