"Come ON, John!" John ran out after him, breathing heavily.
Harold let go of Edward and both of them lay on the floor, panting after a long sprint from their bedrooms, down 4 flights of stairs and out to the back of the palace.
Harold threw himself at the door of an old, rusted steel shed, bursting through and into a mess of old things.
"Big... brother?" Edward got to his feet.
Harold emerged with a sword, rapier and 3 handguns. He threw them into the floor.
"Edward, you take the rapier because I don't think you know how to use one yet... John, you take 2 of the guns... I'll take the sword and handgun, just in case.
He helped his brothers to his feet, pulling them up in a somewhat cold way.
He stared up to the horizon, the fire which had already wiped out most if the land still raging on, as fierce as ever.
He clenched the sword in his right hand tighter than ever.
"Come, my brothers," he whispered, walking away.
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