I looked away, my gaze skittering over the mass of men before me. Their bodies were all honed to perfection, pushing the limits of the muscles they'd been born with. Despite their titles, they wore simple clothes and worn boots on their feet. These were soldiers, but also Spirit mages. Men chosen by the Emperor and blessed by the Goddess to defend our world. And it showed. In the hard lines of their jaws. In the breadth of their biceps. In the way they looked at me as if I had better impress them or be instantly forgotten. They didn't need fine clothes to declare their status. They were the Wraith Lords; their supremacy was absolutely unmistakable.
“Oh, fuck off, Keltyr,” Nex said to the Dhon's heckling. “You may be wondering why Rath and I are standing here with a human.”
“No shit,” someone growled. “What the fuck, Nex? We don't do tours.”
“I'm getting to it, Veker,” Nex huffed. “Rath and I were summoned to a human village earlier today. During the battle, this human saved Rath's life.” Nex paused, letting that sink in, then added, “With magic.Allthe elements.”
The Wraith Lords muttered and moved like an angry herd of beasts.
Someone called out, “Bullshit.”
“Ease down, everyone,” a tall, broad-shouldered man bulging with muscles pushed his way to the front. “We don't have time for games, you two.”
Silver hair streamed down the man's back, though he appeared to be no older than me. And when he looked my way, I noticed that he had a pair of silver eyes and silver scales at his temples to match the hair. I glanced at the gold scales on Nex's temples, then back at the silver man. A member of the Silver Clan working with a member of the Gold Clan. How fascinating. I mean, I knew there were Wraith Lords from all the immortal races, barring the Delosar for obvious reasons. But to see them together was still startling. Not that I knew a lot about the immortal races of Varr. Only what I'd read in books. Maybe it was perfectly normal for Tytra from different clans to hang out together. But that's not what my books said.
“It's true, General,” Rath said to the silver-haired Tytra. “I watched this man wrap the Corrupter in the elements, coating him in a clay shell that briefly contained his magic. When he broke the shell, the Corrupter chose to flee instead of fight.”
“No fucking way,” Lord Keltyr strode forward, his long tail swishing behind him. “This guy?” He pointed at me. “This human contained the Corrupter?”
“He contained him so thoroughly that it broke his connection to the Corrupted and freed them,” Nex said.
“Bullshit,” someone said again.
“No, it's true,” Rath confirmed. “We have just returned from the Imperial Castle. We took Ember there to present him to the Emperor. And the Emperor has shared some history with us.”
“You've been to see the Emperor without me?” the General growled.
“We went straight from battle, General.”
Nex ignored the General and went on, “The Goddess told the Emperor that our strength wouldn't be enough to win the war.”
“So, what?” another Lord asked, this one a Ladrin. “This guy is supposed to win the fucking war for us? Sure, and songbirds are going to come flying out of my ass, singing 'The Ballad of Orime.'”
A good portion of the Wraith Lords chuckled, and some of them even started to sing the aforementioned song . . .
“Orime was a lovely girl, with hair the color of a barset pearl, and between her thighs, to my surprise, I found—”
“Shut it!” the General roared, putting an immediate end to the impromptu performance.
I would have been disappointed that the song ended before the good bit, but I was too busy having a terrible reaction to the Ladrin's presence. My hands started to shake. I couldn't look away from him. His platinum blond hair hung around his broad shoulders in shaggy glory, a testament to his absolute disdain for combs and also a hint at his other form. Ladrin were separated into clans like Tytra, but instead of the color of their beasts determining their clan, it was the type. The Wolf Clan had killed my parents and something about this man screamed wolf to me. He stood a few inches taller than the men around him, and his pale eyes wouldn't deign to fall upon me. I hated him instantly.
Yes, I know it was unfair. But, even if it wasn't his clan specifically, his race had killed my family and half of my village. He wasn't one of those racists, I hoped. He was a Wraith Lord. A man who defended humans. Again, I hoped. But as I stared at him, I heard my mother's screams.
Finally, the Ladrin shifted his gaze my way, caught me staring, and sneered, “What the fuck are you looking at, human?”
“Fuck you, Ladrin!” I shouted, suddenly overwhelmed by everything. Having a Ladrin get in my face was the last straw.
As Rath and Nex reached for me, their expressions full of horror, I flung a hand out at the Ladrin and blasted him with a column of air that sent him flying into his fellow Wraith Lords, taking a whole section of the room out like cut hay.
In the partial silence that followed—partial because there was some groaning from the men on the ground and sprawled over one of the tables—I shuddered and hunched forward, my breath coming raggedly and my furious stare still on the blond Ladrin. Rath and Nex had me by my biceps, their jaws on the floor. The rest of the Wraith Lords gaped at me as well, even the prone ones. Especially those.
The Ladrin got up and prowled forward, his eyes narrowed and his fingers curled into claws.
“Xaedren, his family was killed by Ladrin,” Rath hurried to say. “And he's had a long day. Stand down.Please.”
“The Wolf Clan killed my parents,” I said as I straightened and shook off Nex and Rath. “You're a wolf, aren't you?”
“Yeah, I'm of the Wolf Clan.” The Ladrin blinked. Glanced at Rath. Frowned. Looked at me. Then he stepped up to me and sniffed, bending his head, then lifting it as he inhaled. “Well, fuck. I hate it when someone makes me look like a dick.”
