Unspoken Choice
"Why me?" The question snapped out, harsher than he meant. "Why not you? Do not try to throw this burden onto my back."
No reply came.
Stillness settled like a weight. Through slow inches it pressed inward, until the room seemed to watch, judging without words.
A chair dragged across stone. Up stood another leader - grizzlier, thick through the shoulders, one shaped by years that left their trace. Across his face ran a faded line, proof of an old clash put to rest. He said nothing at first. Then came sound, low and near silent... yet each syllable struck like frost on bare skin.
"Because, Lord Edric, it was your plan. You set the snares. You shaped the battlefield. Who else could guide it to success? Unless" - his eyes narrowed, not cruel, simply unwilling to look away - "you mistrust your own design."
The walls closed in, breath held, while shadows flickered under silence. Not echoes - those words stayed put, sharp as steel just above his skin.
