A.N. Alrighty, here's the end of the main story kiddos. Hooray! Warnings are that it gets a bit violent with a sprinkle of sexual situations. I will post a sorta epilogue with new characters in the same universe. Keep an eye out for it.

---

Part 8: Of Portraits and War or The Final Battle

The next couple of years seemed to blend together. Wake up. Breakfast. Train. Lessons. Train. Lunch. Train. Break. Lessons. Train. Dinner. Train. Sleep. Every day was the same. Oneh was fifteen when a portrait was commissioned. She met her father in the throne room.

"Yes father? You called for me?"

"Oneh, there you are. I want you in your best for the portrait."

"But I thought it was just going to be for you."

"I wanted a family portrait." Oneh looked down at her old cotton shirt and black breeches. She was covered in sweat because of all the training.

"I look terrible."

"I'll send the maids to fix you up."

"No father. I haven't needed maids back then, I don't need them now."

"As you wish, now get ready."

Oneh moved through the castle toward her room. She hated when her father would surprise her. He wouldn't talk to her about anything. They hadn't spoken like they had when she was ten. She knew her father cared for her but the war escalated and he hardly had any time for her. She shouldn't be so juvenile, she was the heir to the Marekian throne, though many would disapprove because she was only half Marekian and a woman. She cleaned up the best she could with a nice dress. She braided up her hair which fell neatly over her shoulder. She met back with her father at the throne room, where he was talking to the painter. He turned to see his daughter.

"There you are dear."

"Hello father."

"Why do you have your hair in a braid? You look so much better with your hair down."

Ari reached up and took out the leather band from her hair. The raven locks fell gracefully around her shoulders like a velvet black curtain.

"You look beautiful. Just like your mother."

"Thank you."

"If I may interrupt your highness," the painter started, "We must get started, so if you'll follow me."

The king and his daughter followed the painter to a room with the maximum amount of sunshine. The painter set his materials up as Ari sat at the chair across. He had his crown and scepter brought to him. Oneh was instructed to stand next to him and pose with her hand on Ari's shoulder. The painter started the portrait. Even he must admit that what lay before him was probably the most interesting family portrait he had ever seen. A king who had missing for years only to come back missing an eye and gaining a daughter. When he finished, a few days later, Ari had it hung in the main throne room. That was the portrait that hung there for years. Ari tried to get closer to Oneh, and she really appreciated the effort.

Years passed and Oneh had become a fearsome general at the age of eighteen. Any doubts any of the soldiers had, she put them to rest once she proved she was definitely adept at battlefield strategy. Just like her father. No one would question her even if she wasn't full Marekian.

The war between Marekia and Pheron was just so close at that point. The next battle would determine the outcome. Since it was so important, Ari decided that he would fight along side Oneh, even though she was perfectly capable. Oneh was in her bedchamber putting on the armor that was custom made for her. The intricate patterns on the black metal showed her allegiance to her country. She was just finishing braiding her hair when her father came in.

"Hello father."

"Hello Oneh."

"This the big one. You haven't been out there in years. Are you sure you want to fight?"

"Of course I want to. I'm still just as capable."

"I don't want to lose you."

Tears started to form in Oneh's eyes, the true reason she was wary. Ari came in close and embraced her.

"I don't want to go without a father again. Most of my life I thought I was an orphan. Now that I have you, I don't want to lose you."

"I'll be fine Oneh. I spent ten years at the hands of King Sorian. I could handle myself."

"I love you so much."

"I love you too. Now let's go out there." They broke apart from their hug.

"They're going to think me weak with these tears," she said, wiping her face with her hand. Ari put a hand on her shoulder.

"They are most definitely afraid of you. There is no way they would think you weak. I think you are probably one of the strongest people I know."

With that, they headed out toward the courtyard, where their horses and men were waiting. Oneh mounted her steed followed closely by Ari. Jarun was there to bid them farewell. They then led their men toward battle. It was a long arduous journey, just like all those years ago. Nearly twenty years before. This time would be different. Ari didn't underestimate the Pheronians this time around. He had his best fighters following him. The journey took a while, but they eventually made it. The terrain was much more rough than it had been before. The Pheronian army was waiting for them. This time Ari was prepared. What he wasn't prepared for was a figure in front of the Pheronian battalion. There, on horseback was a face without emotion. A face that Ari hadn't seen in eight years. A face that looked ready to kill. The face belonging to Sorian, King of Pheron. Ari never thought he'd see that face again. That face that took pleasure in humiliating him. The same one who… Ari didn't want to think about it.

The two rivals locked eyes. Sorian then grew a smirk on his face. A chill made it's way down Ari's spine. Time almost stood still as both armies started their charge. The first clash of metal snapped Ari out of his thoughts. Oneh went in charging first. She was quite the fighter. She side stepped any attack that came her way. Eventually, Ari and Oneh became separated. Ari wasn't the fighter he used to be, but he could still hold his own against the younger soldiers. He fought his way through them, bodies piling up across the ground from both sides. He fought his way through, eventually away from the battle. He came upon a hill where Sorian was waiting for him.

"Ah, so we meet again worm." Ari glared at Sorian, keeping his anger under control. "Or should I say King Worm? You look just as pathetic as you did back then." Ari drew his sword and took a stance, ready to fight. "Ah. It looks as if the worm wants to fight. I'll see you to that challenge." Sorian gracefully drew his own sword. There was a standstill that seemed to last an eternity. Ari was first to break it as he attacked. He was blocked by Sorian's quick wit. Ari quickly struck again. There was yet another clash of metal. Ari was stronger than he seemed, Sorian thought as he struggled to keep the other's blade away. Each clash of metal became louder and louder as they went on. One last clash of metal and they broke apart, out of breath.

"I know what you are Sorian.," Ari said trying to catch his breath.

"What pray tell, am I?"

"You are a spoiled child who got what he wanted."

"Is that so?" Sorian came in for an attack and Ari blocked. "How exactly would you know you waste of space?"

"No one has ever questioned you. You have never had anything hard go on in your life."

"How dare you!" Sorian came in for another swing. "You know nothing about me!"

"I doubt that you've been through that much." Sorian came in to swing a few more times before they broke apart again.

"You don't know what it's like to have men feel you all over with their filthy hands. You don't know what it's like to have your innocence stolen away at the hands of men only interested in money."

"Is that all?"

"Not even close. I was only a child when I was taken."

Sorian was fourteen when he ran away from home. He'd show his father. He could make it on his own. He wasn't weak. Sorian had calmed down since he left the palace. He was wandering around the market place, looking at the merchandise. What pretty things they were selling. He would have to get something for Zira. He had a cape to disguise himself as to not be recognized as prince. Sorian was humble and didn't want people approaching him. Little did he know, he was being watched. He looked at some glass trinkets as a group of men came closer. Sorian felt a hand grab his shoulder. He turned to face a group of three men burly men.

"Looks like we got a pretty one here," one of the men said. Sorian felt uncomfortable right away. He tried to move past the men, but he was stopped by one of them.

"Where do you think you're going pretty?"

"Uh. Excuse me sirs. I really must be getting home."

"Why would we want you to do that?"

"I- but-"

"No buts pretty. You will make a lovely addition to our collection."

"W-what collection?" Sorian asked frightened. He backed away a little bit.

"You would make a lovely slut."

Sorian pivoted and ran as far as he could. The men were on his trail. He ran through the streets past all those vendors. He tried to shout for help, but no one seemed to listen. They all thought he was just some beggar wanting attention. Sorian took a wrong turn in to an alley with a dead end. The three men caught up quickly. They had him against a brick wall. There was no escape. One of the men grabbed his arm and pulled down his cape. Another one roughly grabbed his face for a closer inspection.

"You really are a pretty one." Sorian tried to struggle away. He kicked and screamed. "But we have to stop this struggling." The man pulled a cloth from his person and held it against Sorian's mouth and nose. Sorian struggled with all of his might. Then he struggled some more until he slowed down and eventually stopped. One of the men flung Sorian over his shoulder. It was quite easy since the boy hardly weighed anything. Their boss was definitely going to love this one.

Sorian woke up with a huge headache. His vision was blurry. He tried to rub his eyes but found that he couldn't move his arms. He couldn't move his legs either for that matter. His mouth tasted like metal and wondered what happened. Then he remembered the three men. His eyes widened. He looked up at his wrists. They had been tied to bedposts. He was face down on a bed with satin sheets and pillows. He tried to struggle out of his restraints. At that moment he realized he was stark naked. He heard a door open and froze. What was going to happen to him?

"You know, I don't usually take in Pheronians," a deep voice said from the door frame, "because they come off as unattractive to my clients." Sorian remained as still and quiet as possible. He felt a hand roughly grab his hair and lift his head. He saw a Marekian man with his black hair in a short ponytail and glasses on his dark face.

"Though you are very attractive."

"W-who are you?"

"You don't need to know my name. Only that I am a provider of sorts. I provide men with bodies that they can take however they like. By the looks of you, you seem like an innocent. A virgin. I might just have to break you in. I always get the first timers."

The man released Sorian's head. Sorian felt the hand land on his back. It started to move lower and lower until it reached his lower back. He shivered at the touch. What exactly was he going to do with him? The hand made it to his bottom. It stayed there for a good minute before he felt a squeeze. Tears threatened to spill on to his face. This couldn't be happening to him. It just couldn't. He's royalty. Perhaps his father was right. Perhaps he was weak. If he were strong then he wouldn't let this happen. He felt the entire weight of the man on top of him. His breath hitched. He suddenly felt something hard and warm near his bottom. No. He wouldn't. Before Sorian could object he was penetrated. The pain was horrendous. When the man finished, Sorian was a sobbing mess.

"Be assured that I took it easy on you. Just to get accustomed. Your first costumer will be here tomorrow. I'll send someone to clean you up by then. Sleep well."

Then the man exited the room. No remorse. Just business. True to his word, someone came in to clean the boy up the next day. Then a man came in to the room that night. There were men every night after that. Those men made his life a living hell. These weren't just regular average men looking for a good time, they were sadists who enjoyed hurting the boy. Whenever he would scream or cry, they would hurt him even more. This went on for four years. Day in and day out, everyday went the same. Sometimes they would tie him down and whip him bloody. Sometimes they would come in groups and ravage his body all at once. Sorian learned to keep his emotions inside. He became a hollow existence, thinking that he would never return to his home. One day that all changed when a Pheronian soldier by the name of Harin came for a good time.

Harin was a top ranking soldier with a secret. He liked to cross the border in search of one night stands with Marekian boys. He came to the small inconspicuous building in the bad side of town. He knocked on the door and was let inside.

"Ah, Harin," the man with the glasses said, "Back again I see."

"Oh yes."

"And since you are one of my favorite patrons, I have a surprise for you."

"What kind of surprise?"

"If I tell you, it wouldn't be a surprise."

"I don't like surprises."

"Oh, but you'll love this one. First put on this blindfold."

The man handed Harin a piece of cloth. He looked down at it, then up at the man who assured him. Harin slowly put the cloth over his eyes as the man helped tie it behind his head. Harin was led down the familiar hallways until they made a turn that Harin didn't recognize. He was then suddenly pushed in to a room.

"Have fun, and remember keep the blindfold on," the man said as he closed the door behind Harin. There was a moment of awkward silence. Then he felt warm hands on his cheeks. Harin jumped at the surprise of it all. Then he felt soft lips on his own. This was someone new. Someone he had never had before. Perhaps that was the surprise. He felt the small hands grab on to his wrists and guide them to a warm chest with nothing but a leather vest on. The leather fell away while Harin kept his hands on the boy's chest. The hands came again and guided Harin's wrists down to the hem of the boy's pants. Harin reached in and gently rubbed the flesh underneath. The boy's hands came once again to Harin's cheeks as he was pulled in to another more passionate kiss. He really liked this one. Not like the others at all. Very experienced by the feel of it. The hands pushed up the blindfold. Harin opened his eyes and blinked. A Pheronian boy stood before him. A boy of about eighteen. Harin violently flinched away as if he had been burned. He accidentally knocked the boy to the ground.

"P-prince Sorian?" Harin sputtered.

"I don't go by that anymore," the boy replied, not an emotion to be heard.

"How did you get here?"

"That was in the past," Sorian started, "Now, are we going to finish this or not?"

"No, we're not going to finish this," Harin scolded as he picked the boy up from the ground and placed him on the bed. Harin sat right next to him.

"It doesn't matter if we finish this or not as long as you still pay."

"What's wrong with you?"

"Why are you so concerned about me? I'm just a run of the mill whore."

"No you're not. Your father has been worried sick about you."

"If he was so worried I would have been out of this hell hole long ago."

"We didn't know where you were. You ran away from home, remember?"

"No matter. I'm never getting out of here so if you would just pay up and leave-" Sorian was interrupted by a hard slap to the face. He reached a hand up to his reddening cheek.

"I'll get you out of here, even if it means my life. Your country needs you, your majesty."

"They don't need me. They have Zira."

"Your sister probably misses you most of all." Sorian fell silent then…

"She does?"

"How would you feel if she were in this situation. You would miss her dearly, wouldn't you?"

"This will never happen to her. I promise you that."

"How can you promise that if you don't want to get out of here?"

"How do we get out of here?"

"Put on your clothes. We're getting out of here tonight. I'll defend you with my life your majesty."

Sorian was snapped out of his thoughts by Ari's sword coming down on his own. Harin never did make it out alive. The clashes of metal became almost unbearable. Both were quickly losing energy until Sorian gained the upper hand in finding a weakness in Ari's stance and armor. Sorian took the opportunity and stabbed Ari in the side. He quickly pulled out his sword which had a thin layer of blood. Ari fell to his knees, hard. Sorian gave a scoff as if he knew he would win. He kicked Ari's sword out of his hands. Ari clutched his side, pain written all over his face. Sorian roughly grabbed Ari's face and made him stand. Their faces were nearly touching. Sorian crashed his lips roughly on to Ari's with enough force to make the other bleed.

"Consider that my kiss of death," Sorian said as their lips separated. He let Ari go and brought his sword up. He was going to enjoy this very much. He brought his sword down for a strike when Ari lunged at him. Sorian felt something trickle down his shoulder. It couldn't possibly be blood, could it? He reached up and sure enough he saw blood on his fingers. He reached up again and followed the trail of blood. It lead straight to cold metal sticking out of his neck. He stumbled backward and on to his knees. Blood spurted out of his mouth as he realized that a dagger was sticking out of his neck. Sorian collapsed and took his final breath. Ari stumbled as well. He felt a sharp pain in his side as Oneh ran up to him. Why did she look so concerned? Ari's breathing became heavier. Why was it so hard to breathe? Ari collapsed as Oneh made it just in time to catch him.

"Father?" she asked, tears in her eyes.

"Why are you crying?"

"Please don't leave me."

"I'm not going anywhere."

Ari felt the pain in his side again. He reached down toward his side. What he found was Sorian's sword sticking out. Oneh reached down and swiftly pulled it out. She threw it away as far as possible. Tears had fallen freely down her cheeks. Ari reached up with his bloody hand and placed it gently on Oneh's cheek.

"You have to carry on," Ari gasped.

"No. No, father. You have to make it. Please."

"I don't think I can. You must lead your country."

"No father, it's your country."

"Now it's your turn Oneh."

Ari's breathing became more and more labored with every word he spoke. Oneh was sobbing. She couldn't lead an entire country. Not by herself. She was much too young. She held her father close until she felt his last breaths. They slowed down and became very shallow until they stopped all together. She held his body close for as long as she could. Unbeknownst to her, there was a horse drawn carriage headed straight toward her.

In that carriage there was a man who happened to be blind sitting across a girl of about eighteen years of age.

"Piro?" the girl asked.

"Yes milady?"

"Help me out of this carriage. I want to see for myself what's going on out there."

"Of course milady."

The carriage came to a stop right in Oneh's sight. What was a carriage doing all the way out there? A figure stepped out of the carriage. A man who seemed to be blind. He helped another figure out of the carriage. She was beautiful with long flowing hair white as snow and the most stunning lavender eyes. Oneh turned back to her father. He looked so peaceful. Almost as if he were asleep. He had suffered so much. A shadow came over her. She didn't even want to look up.

"Oneh?" a soft voice whispered. She knew that voice. It was a bit different but she knew it all the same. She looked up to find the same girl from before.

"Saph?"

"Oh Oneh it is you," Saph wept as she knelt down to embrace Oneh, "I thought I'd never see you again."

"Me neither."

They wept in each others arms for a good while. Saph looked down at Oneh's arms and saw Ari lying dead. Then she looked across to see Soran lying on the ground not too far away. His silver hair splattered with blood.

"So, both kings are dead," Saph said, throat tight.

"Where does that leave us. Do we become enemies?"

"No. We don't have to."

"What do you mean?"

"Why are we fighting this war? It has been going on for longer than it has to. I say we end it."

"But how?"

"Both kings are dead. That leaves us and I know we don't want to fight. We can finally call a truce. We can't be fighting as sisters."

"You know?" Before Saph could explain herself, the blind man came up to them.

"Milady?" he asked.

"Yes Piro?"

"What shall you do with the remaining soldiers. The battle is still going strong." Saph turned to Oneh and helped her off the ground.

"How about we stop this war once and for all?"

Saph grabbed Oneh's hand and led her to the top of a hill that overlooked all of the fighting. Together, they would bring hope to both their countries.

Dearest Arrion

I know you may not forgive me. I feel terrible about it myself, but it had to be done. I know I took advantage of you and that I never truly loved you, but I did what I thought was best. To end this pointless war, I decided to mother a child with you. Our child, will join our two nations together. This isn't to say that I was never attracted to you. I bet you will find a perfect woman to marry. I know that there will be terrible repercussions once my brother finds out, and for that I apologize ahead of time. I am thinking for the future of both our nations. I'm sure I've made the right decision.

Zira