"Why would I want my brother to die?"
Lazarak answered immediately, as though the question itself wounded him.
"I am not saying you want him to die. I am asking what happens if he does."
Damon replied with a calm expression, stepping over a fractured ice sheet where Matia's cold magic had frozen another stillborn midreach.
Lazarak hesitated as they approached the distant echoes of battle. The air was colder here, carrying the sharp bite of Matia's frost.
"If my brother was to die then nothing would happen. His authorities would simply be transferred to me. But if I was already dead then the world would die."
He bit his lip, the very thought leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. His steps slowed as though the idea itself weighed him down.
"You have a sibling, do you not. I do not imagine you would want your sister to die."
Damon pictured his younger sister's face. Pale white hair and grey eyes. The smile she tried to wore when she was happy.
"I would die for her."
