Cruel Empathy ✓

The Forgotten Son

***Ostiel***

Ostiel had every intention of riding back to the Northlands, or so he told himself, but as the distance grew nearer his resentment grew with it. Ryevin. His brother drew from him the worst parts of himself. Ostiel was the elder brother, his father's firstborn son. He should be the one to bear his father's title, but it was Rye that always got everything he wanted. Anna or Anakyah was supposed to be his. It was he, Ostiel, that she had been promised. Rye, the numskull, was going to send her back! It was unthinkable!

He knew whose daughter she was the moment he heard her name and saw her eyes. Not many people knew Solmin had a daughter and all those who did believe that she died along with her mother.

Seventeen years ago he made one of the biggest mistakes of his life. He knew that, but for some reason, he turned his horse and headed in a direction that could only lead to darkness.

*****
"State your business," one of the guards at the front of the stronghold barked at Oz. For a brief moment, he hesitated. He had made a mistake with Solmin before. It was well known that he was a bloodthirsty beast of a man, capable of great depravity and violence, and he had no real clue on how he would react to him. He swallowed back his doubts. Solmin deserved to know about his daughter. She was his flesh and blood, he wouldn't do anything to hurt her. He would be grateful to Oz for coming to him, and he would feel obligated to stick to their prior agreement. That was his hope anyway.

Oz straightened his back and stated, "I am Ostiel, brother to Ryevin, Warlord of the Northlands. I have some information that may interest your Warlord. I have come to ask for an audience with him."

The guards exchanged a look and turned back to him. "You will wait." Ostiel nodded in agreement, and the guards regarded him warily.

A knot started to twist in Ostiel's gut, and fear started to creep in. What the hell was he thinking coming here? He had been driven by pure jealousy. His brother and he hadn't always gotten along, but he gave him a position of high-ranking, trusted him, and treated him as an equal. He didn't deserve the betrayal, but Oz didn't deserve his lot either.

It was their father's doing, this rift between them. His father had once doted on Oz. He was his heir, and he had been proud of him. Then his mother passed, and the great Warlord Galenstrom, barely even mourned her. It wasn't a love match, but still, he hardly waited a season before joining with a mage. His mother didn't deserve the insult, but no one could blame the warlord for wanting to join with the beautiful Adalane, a foreteller. She was guaranteed to aid and strengthen his rule. Galen grew to love her in a way that he never loved his mother.

When he was six years old, Ryevin was born, and then Oz was all but forgotten. He was the eldest son. He was the firstborn brother. To his father he became nothing. Ryevin, the mage's son, was to become his heir and eventually warlord. Ryevin. He stole his father's love and his destiny, and Ostiel had always only ended up with the scraps.

"He has agreed to see you," a guard said, interrupting him from his reverie. Oz took a deep breath, there would be no backing out now. Solmin would have his head on a stick if he wasted his time.

One of the guards asked for his weapons, so Oz unsheathed his sword and pulled out his daggers, and handed them in. He tried to shake off that dread that landed in his gut.

There was an eeriness in the demeanor of all those he passed at the Farwoods keep. It was so much different than the comfort of the Northlands, where he had grown up. Everyone felt on edge and tension suffocated the air. For a moment he felt glad that Anna had escaped this place, he couldn't imagine the tender-hearted girl growing up in a place like this.