Only One

"Only one will," Connor answered when Duncan pointed this out, ignoring his protests that this wasn’t the answer. "…In the end, there can be only one, and that has to be you, Duncan."

They fought some more, sword upon sword, until Duncan had the advantage. "Enough, Connor. I won’t fight you." Duncan threw down his sword. "I will never fight you."

Connor reached out with his sword and slashed Duncan across the chest. "Then you will die."

Although a rational part of Duncan could see Connor’s point, he refused to accept it. Their battle began anew, and Connor pointed out that the fight had been an eventuality. Deep down, Duncan knew this to be true. The old adage, There can be only one promised it—and no matter how hard he denied it or was repelled by it, it simply was there. The eventuality that Duncan would have to face Connor in just such a battle.

Every day, every breath we took was to this end… The words echoed in Duncan’s ears. Connor dared him to deny it, but he could not. And when it came right down to it, he just could not do it. With Connor on his knees in front of him, and his sword raised, ready to strike; Duncan could not bring himself to administer the final blow. Connor was his friend, his brother. Connor had taught him the rules of the Game, how to survive as an Immortal. Maybe he wasn’t the spiritual guide that Darius was, but Connor had always been there for him. How could he end that now?

"Our bonds are all that hold us in this world. Don’t break this one," he pleaded. "Connor, I’m begging you."

"It’s too late…"

Duncan turned his back and walked away from Connor, but the latter rushed at him, and forced him into that deceptive stance. The one he had shown him all those centuries ago. Then, it had appeared that Duncan had the advantage, where in reality it was Connor. Now, their positions were reversed. Duncan now had the deceptive advantage, manipulated by Connor, who knew what he was doing.

"No, Connor, not like this. Connor stop. Connor stop."

"Duncan! One of us has to die, old friend."

"No…"

"And you know it."

"No…"

"Goodbye Duncan, my true brother."

"I love you Connor."

Almost in slow motion, the events unfolded themselves. Connor stepped back and prepared to attack Duncan, and to protect himself, Duncan swung his sword around to slice Connor’s head off—just as the stance fore-ordained. Duncan watched as the light streamed from Connor’s neck, the start of the Quickening. Flashes from Connor’s life came into Duncan’s mind. Of Heather, of Rachel, his mother, Jacob Kell. Then it was over. The sum of Connor’s strength, memories and experiences were now in Duncan.

Momentarily weakened by the Quickening, Duncan sank to his knees. And after a moment he wept. Wept for Connor; for Kate; for Tessa, dead now for ten years; for Richie, whose Quickening he was tricked into taking; for Darius; for all those he had loved and lost.

;Duncan had tried to opt out of the Game; it was Connor who pointed out that he couldn’t. Connor had taught him so much. How could he carry on now? Why was he forced to do this?

Kell is going to kill you, Duncan, if only to torment me. And there is nothing you can do about it.

But there was. Connor had found a way to perhaps prevent that from happening. Connor knew that neither one could beat Kell alone. Separate, they just were not strong enough. But together, they would have the strength and experiences—which meant that one had to take the other’s Quickening. Connor had lived with so much pain that he wanted to end it. So he made the sacrifice.