The Great Jasteirra

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Jasteirra froze with shock, as if she’d been caught in a sorcerer’s spell. For an entire minute, she couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. Her father was dead; the king was dead; her own brother killed him; the prince killed him. Thoughts formed tangled knots in her head. Is he here to kill me? She desperately racked her mind for a solution. But the answer was clear; she’d seen the look on her brother’s, Shaelan’s, face. Shaelan intended to kill her, probably right where she lay.

            “Shay,” she expressed dumbly, her mouth hanging open. He looked at her funny, like she was stupid.

            “Jez, are you entirely obtuse?” the prince laughed, “I come here, to kill you; I have just slain our father, the king; and now I have practically slit your throat. But you, you don’t put up a fight, don’t scream, don’t even try to preserve your own precious life. You just stare at me with those doe eyes, as if it will sway me to spare you, just like old times.” Jasteirra inconspicuously inched a few steps away, totally avoiding Shaelan’s notice.  “I am going to kill you, you know. And once you’re dead, yes, once you’re gone, there will be no one to question me, no one standing in my way. I will be king, king of all Anora. What will everyone think, sister, when they hear that the great Jasteirra, the uncatchable Jasteirra, fell without a word—that you didn’t care that you would die, when you took your final breath.” Throughout his whole speech, the prince had remained oblivious to the fact that Jasteirra had composed herself, shifted positions so that she balanced on only one knee, and had pulled a dagger from her  pocket. As soon as Shaelan had ended his monologue, she pounced, throwing her knife at him. It struck him precisely in the center of his chest, slicing open his heart. Shaelan’s wide eyes stared down at the blade poking through his ribs. That will teach him not to underestimate me again, Jasteirra thought. The prince collapsed to the ground, facing the consequences of his grave mistake.

            “I thought I told you, Shay,” she mocked, “ you’re much too talkative.” She smiled, seeing the hate in his eyes. That was the last emotion he would ever feel, the fury burning within him.