The two kingdoms are at peace, but only because they share a king.

The king is chosen through a ritual called the First Kill.

To both kingdoms are born princes. Both princes are raised as nobles and are given the same lessons, the same training.

They are treated as equals, as brothers. They have no other siblings, no friends as close as each other.

The rite of the First Kill is to determine which of the two princess will inherit the throne. This is done through a duel with swords.

The winner of the fight is pre-determined. Whichever kingdom ruled in the last generation must lose the duel.

One prince is destined to be the victor. The other is destined to be a victim.

There is no shame in being the First Kill, just as there is no glory in murdering that young man. Power always comes with a price.

Time passes. The royal families gather to watch the rite unfold yet again.

The two boys are too young for this, but they must fight this duel to keep the peace.

The boys bow to one another, then draw their swords. Already, mourners wail for their lost prince.

They put on a perfect display of martial prowess. Cuts, thrusts, parries. All delivered with masterful precision and grace. Then, a bell chimes: Time for the ritual to end.

The prince looks at his opponent. He knows what he must do. The First Kill.

But these princes are brothers first. As the fatal blow is to be delivered, the prince stays his hand. He will not continue this tradition. They will both rule, as brothers.

He lowers his sword and extends his hand. The crowd gasps, the mourners are silent. The chime sounds again but the prince pays it no mind.

His brother grasps the hand of the prince and smiles, but his eyes fill with tears.

The bells chime. One prince is destined to be the victor. The other is destined to be a victim.

Power always comes with a price.