And so his brothers came, the hope in their eyes glimmering like sunlight on sea, to tell him they’d made a deal with the Wizard of the Deep. They had shaved their heads, each lock of hair representing a year of life they gladly traded, and in return they were given a dagger.

“Drive it into his heart,” they begged. “Shatter it the way he shattered yours. Then you can come with us. You can come home.”

He took the dagger, stared into the deepest dark of its blade.  How foolish he had been, and here, in his hand, was a way out of it all. Kill the prince, and he could live. Kill the prince and shorten the lives of his dearest brothers. Kill the prince, and kill the yearning that still clung to his own heart.

For the first time he truly understood how terrifying love could be.

He slipped into the water, his heart breaking again and again as they pleaded with him. He kissed their foreheads, one by one, and told them not to mourn, and that he was sorry to cause such sorrow. His brothers reached for him—desperate, despairing—but the sun had already begun to rise. He said his final farewells to his family, and within moments he was nothing more than a reflection upon the water. A moment later, not even that.

Sea foam, crashing against rocks.

Sunset

Rowan McBride

Sunset © 2007 by Rowan McBride. All rights reserved. This story may not be reproduced in whole or in part without author's permission.

Photo by Farhad Ghaderi