“I’m not his fucking Guardian, Tybalt,” Razik snapped.
“At this moment, you are. It’s not a request. It’s an order from your Commander.”
Razik straightened, smoke furling on his exhale. These so-calledordershad been coming more and more lately. Tybalt knew how he felt about this. Even if his uncle didn’t agree, he’d never forced him to do something he didn’t want to. But as of late, he was starting to wonder if his uncle was having a change of heart on the matter.
As if knowing what he was thinking, Tybalt ground out, “This has nothing to do with that right now, Razik. This is our king. If something happens to him, I have no idea what will befall Avonleya. The Sutara bloodline has ruled for over a millennium.”
“I know that,” Razik bit out.
“We can discuss this more later?—”
But Razik was already striding away. They didn’t have time to sit around and chat like Cethin did in those fucking council meetings every twenty days. He was sure Tybalt would indeed come find him later, they would discuss this, and like every other time, nothing would change.
“You! Stay by Valric! Do not leave his side until this is over,” he barked at another warrior. He was young, maybe three decades past his Staying. The Staying was something most magical beings went through in their mid-twenties. It kept them from aging further, and thus they remained perpetually frozen in time physically.
“Understood,” the male said, already running.
Razik increased his pace to a jog, then to a sprint as he realized every single being had stilled and was homed in on Cethin now. None of them moved. They just stood there, watching him. Warriors did everything they could. Nothing disturbed them. Not blades or magic. In fact, everyone was slowly falling still, waiting to see what would happen next. Waiting for orders.
He arrived at Cethin’s side, not bothering to look at the male. He only turned to face the…phantoms? Spirits?
“What the fuck are you doing here?” he growled, letting black flames slowly wreath his forearms.
“Tybalt told me we were under attack. I came to help,” Cethin retorted.
“Help?” Razik said doubtfully. “You came to see the Fae death site, even after all the warnings to stay away for now. Your curiosity is a distraction to everyone here.”
“I can help,” Cethin snarled, and Razik almost smirked at the irritation.
It was at that point that Tybalt must have attacked because a being let out that gods-awful keening wail that only Razik had been able to evoke. Suddenly, the battle resumed, but this time, all the beings were focused solely on Cethin.
“Do not let them near the king!” he heard Jarek order from somewhere in the melee.
Gods, did their forces try, but without dragon fire, they were useless. Weapons went through the beings as if slicing through air. Magic was snuffed out, and gold blades spilled blood.
“What are they?” Cethin asked, his dark magic pooling around him. It writhed and coiled. Inky pools that called to all the magic around them.
Razik ground his teeth, keeping his own power in check. “We don’t know. We’ve never encountered them before.”
“Are they what’s killing the Fae?”
“Do you really think now is the time to discuss this?”
Cethin didn’t answer, but he went rigid at the reprimand. Three of the beings were nearing, and as if he had something to prove, that dark power struck. With the speed of asps, those coils of pure death and darkness wound around the beings.
And then they disappeared when the beings simply waved them away as if they were brushing off an annoying insect.
Which, fair. He felt the same way about Cethin.
“For the record, that didn’t help,” Razik said flatly.
“Fuck off, you prick,” Cethin retorted, already rallying his magic, apparently to try again.
“You’re not helping. You’ve assuaged your curiosity. Now leave so the rest of us can do our godsdamn jobs and not have to worry about your pampered ass,” he shot back.
“I’m as trained as you are,” Cethin sneered, pulling daggers from swirls of black. The silver blades glinted until his magic slithered up the weapons. He cocked his arm back and threw one, his aim dead on, but like every other weapon, it went right through the things.
The beings drew closer, four more having joined the three. They were all failing.
