“I want you to walk away,” Miklae replied. “Just walk away and we will not bother you. You are of the past. You need not worry about today. Times have changed since your influence could sway thousands. This isn’t your world anymore. This isn’t your fight.”
Balton noticed that Miklae seemed to speak as a friend. But there was something different in his tone of voice. Darin Miklae had died, Balton realized, and Dealer Miklae had taken his place. A broken Balton Runge stood there a few moments, deep in thought; so then the master becomes the enemy.
“Who are you to say that this is not my fight, when yours should have ended long ago?” Balton demanded as a melancholy anger filled his body. His old master, Miklae, was taken back by the sudden change of mood.
Miklae collected himself and stared into Balton’s eye. “I trained you to lead battles! Not tend farms and govern a town. That day you left my tutelage, I knew we would never be the same, but I never thought you would turn against me!” Miklae’s hood had fallen off.
Balton erupted, “You turned against me! You killed an innocent man to cover you own tracks! That wasn’t you in the beginning,” Balton slowed down, his face drowned in anguish, “You used to fight for the people, the ones who tilled the ground from which you ate wheat. But once you got involved in Aelith’s government, you changed. You became obsessed with turning your political party into an empire. You were so absorbed with obtaining power that I left and decided to take a stand, here with these people.” Balton sobbed. This isn’t the way it should have been.
Dealer Miklae observed Balton coldly, “Then we shall crush you.”
Balton stopped weeping. He took two silent steps towards Miklae and thrust his sword into the old man’s stomach. Miklae inhaled sharply, his eye’s wide. Balton leaned forward and gently whispered into the man’s ear, “Today is a good day to die for both of us.” He took out the sword, and let his former mentor drop into a lifeless heap. There once was a time when the old Miklae would have seen that attack coming from a mile away.
He gave the old mentor a last glance, “Know that this isn’t what I wanted.” He looked up at the army in the distance. The infantry were closing the gap. He accepted his fate. He had given his people the time they needed to escape. He would die, but he would take down as many as he could with him. He readied his weapon, smiled, and charged.
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