Romulus held his sword to her neck, panting. He held Kronos' neck in the other hand, holding him a foot off of the ground. He heard the Titan cough and splutter as he slowly closed his fist tighter and tighter around his neck, choking him, making him pay. "Why did you do it?" he demanded. "You made me a warrior. You made me more than an outcast, more than a peasant! And then you... you join him." He looked at Kronos, and that mischievous smile was enough to set him off. Anger, desperation, loneliness, everything he had ever felt that he had despised flowed threw him.
He closed his fist.
Kronos floated to the floor in a pile of black ash, never to rise again. Romulus turned back to Evelina, forcing her chin up with his sword. "Tell me why."
" Why do you think, boy!?" she screeched. "Who do you think I am!?"
The question took Romulus by surprise. "Evelina, you idiot. Did you hit your head to hard when I threw you against the wall? I'm not sorry," he said, forcing his sword even deeper into her neck. She smiled. "No. I am Queniesa, goddess of evil and terror, Queen of all dark things. I have made you so I could destroy you, for you cannot destroy something you haven't made, but I also knew it was a risk. I feared that this would be the way it ended. But, alas, I have trained you to well, and all of the challenges I sent you on your journey could not stop you."
"Well, Queni-whatever, what have we learned? NEVER MESS WITH A WARRIOR!!!! AND WHAT'S MORE, NEVER MESS WITH A PEASANT!!!!" roared Romulus, and with no regret, drove his sword through her neck, throwing everything he had into the thrust.
They were both forgotten piles of ash, just like he had once been; run over, not cared for, forgotten. But now, he was no longer a pile of ash. He was Romulus, a true warrior.