Crimson liquid flowed in rivulets down the matted fur of the elephantine creature. My sword, impaled in the felled Cerobhar, mocked my still body.
“Next time, how about you make use of this piece of metal. It’d do you good. What with everyone wanting to live these days and all.” With a wink tossed at me, my brother swiftly removed the sword. My brother. The great pride of Ravenwood. Well, at least to me. My parents considered him an anomaly among their six offspring. Too happy. Too independent.
“Alright men, let’s pick this one up and head home. Balthos won’t have much to complain about once he sees this bit-… bitter creature.” He hastily glanced at me. “Don’t tell mother about this one too okay?” I don’t remember how I responded, but I remember feeling like the most important person on Baroma. A secret. I’d been given a whole secret to keep. By my hero, nonetheless.
Behind him, the Cerobhar let out a wrangled moan and got up. My brother whipped around, staring into its glossy eyes. Then he was dead.