Phil

Phil and I had been friends since childhood. We grew up together, studied, and dreamed of the future. But when the time came to choose our paths, our paths diverged. I went to study magic, and he prepared to one day assume the throne.
After the king's death, Phil ascended to the throne at just seventeen years old. His first decree was to ban magic. He called it dangerous and unpredictable, claiming that the world had enough holy power. Our arguments grew more frequent and heated, until one day we stopped communicating altogether.
Five years passed. I became an archmage and left the kingdom to practice magic freely abroad. Then one day, a letter bearing the royal seal arrived.
"My brother is gravely ill. Neither holy power nor the best healers could help him. I'm willing to pay any price if you'll return and try to save him."
I reread the letter several times. Pride told me to burn it and forget it. But Phil's brother was almost like family to me. We grew up together, and the thought of him dying was unbearable.
A week later, the ship was approaching the shores of the kingdom that had once been my home. Ahead of me lay a meeting with the man who had once been my best friend, but who had now become my most implacable adversary.