They say that the best thing a son can do is to be worthy of the name given to him by his father. But what happens when the father is not worthy of the son he bears?

The thought left a sour taste in my mouth while I stared at myself in the mirror.

Being an Orc warrior was one thing, but to be part of the royal family was another. Our bloodline was linked to that of Mogakh the Malevolent, the mighty Orc King who defeated the powerful Fae Queen, Nissa, during the great war.

With her death, the Orcs had taken over the Isle of Wrobel and our family had been ruling over these lands for nearly half a millennium.

The title of King, though hereditary, had to be earned.

As the fourth born out of six siblings, I held no favour with my father, who already endorsed his first born, Azog, to be the next King. Though large in my own right, I was physically the smallest out of all of my brothers, and as such, I had often been looked down upon.

My father, King Dalkaar, had strong genes and even though my siblings and I all had different mothers, there was a resemblance in each and every one of us. Our greyish skin was a similar shade and we all had the distinct jaw of our father.

Out of all of us, I had the bluest eyes, an icy blue, and it was often described as being an omen among Orcs. Yet another reason for my family to distance themselves from me.

To be honest, I was surprised that I had made it to adulthood, for there had been many attempts on my life as a child. But I supposed the God Anu had other things in store for me, or at least that was what I told myself.

Growing up, I had always hoped that the relationship between my siblings and myself would improve as time passed. But I supposed with the inevitable fratricide ceremony that was to take place, what sense would it have made when only one of us was going to survive.

"Baldur, are you ready?"

The sound of my best friend's voice pulled me from my thoughts.

Khagra the Ruthless was a mighty Orc warrior and the only individual in existence who really understood me. After all the betrayals I had experienced in my life so far, he was the only one I truly trusted.

They say that your friends were the family you choose, and even though many would disagree, I always felt like the concept of family was more than just in relation to blood and a name. Khagra had been at my side for most of my life and I honestly did not know what I would do without him.

Turning to look at him, I replied, "Ready to kill my brothers? Sure..."

Slapping me across the back, he nudged my shoulder as we exited the room, "Think of it this way, when you win and eventually become King, you can put a stop to this ridiculous tradition."

As confident as Khagra was in my abilities, I had my reservations.

I always knew one day that I may have died at one of my brothers' blades. It was no secret that they all had planned to team up on me, and as formidable a fighter as I was, five against one was not the best of odds.

Even with the magic that flowed through my veins, I could not really see how I would win.

Did I really want to be King?

I knew how heavy the burden of wearing a crown could be, having watched the way my father had withered over these last few years. After all, Mogakh the Malevolent had once been quoted as saying; sitting on a throne was indeed much more difficult than simply claiming one.

In all honesty, I was not all that enthusiastic about being King.

Just thinking about having to rule over the Isle of Wrobel had my brows furrowing in contempt. Having to run an empire where I had to govern over not just my own people, but fae and humans alike was not something that I was looking forward to.

The fae themselves were troublesome on their own. But humans? I fucking despised them!

Disgustingly vile and wretched creatures!

Humans were not only weak, but selfish, greedy and untrustworthy! In my opinion, they were undeserving of our protection, but such was the law of the land. I knew that I had the potential to be a cruel King. However, unlike my father and his before him, I would adhere to my duty and do a better job in ensuring that everyone within my realm was well cared for.

Sure, ruling through fear had its place, but if I learned anything from watching those that came before me, there were better ways than reigning with an iron fist.

It was clear that I was not my father's son and though the blood of my brothers would stain my hands today, it needed to be done. I had vowed to my mother that I would be a better King for my sons and I was someone who always strived to keep his word.

As Khagra and I approached the arena, I took a deep breath and squared my shoulders.

"Let's get this over with..." I murmured.

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A/N: Hello everyone, welcome to the Isle of Wrobel 😊

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