George is at his bench, hunched over the remnants of the rose, his hands steady and sure. He looks up, unbothered, a small smile forming.
“Kel! Nice to see you?—”
“Watch out!”
A shadow falls from the rafters. Time slows as I see it—not a shadow at all but a fae man. At least I think he is fae. His skin is icy pale with a bluish tinge. He wears long robes the color of olive and slate, resembling clothing from history books. The way the sleeves hang down, the pleats of the pants—it’s an ancient style. And his head…
Two long, curling horns jut from his forehead like a bull’s. This is no fae I have ever seen the likes of before.
The horned man draws twin, obsidian knives, the blades long as my arm. He moves with deadly precision, striking toward George.
The Sword of the Protector is in my hand before I register drawing it. I leap forward, intercepting the assassin with a clash of steel. “Run, George! Run!”
George stumbles back, then sets his gaze in a fiercely determined expression, one that has often made me exasperated at Rose. He leaps forward, gathering up the remnants of the rose in a cloth, then bolts out the door.
The horned man looks to follow, but I swing at him instead. He blocks, his knives dancing through the air, faster than I expect. Every strike I make is met with a fluid counter, his movements as effortless as water flowing downhill.
I thrust forward, but he twists aside with a grace that seems unnatural. Refusing to let up, I swipe again. He doesn’t just block my attacks; he redirects them, the force of my strikes deflected back toward me. Each movement of his knives leaves the air humming, their edges close enough to kiss my skin.
“Who are you?” I growl, sweeping the blade in a wide arc. Whoever trained him is talented. And as much as I hate to admit it, I’m not going to be able to rely on my strength with a blade to win this battle. I kick him in the chest, giving me a moment to back up.
The air thickens around me as I call upon Winter’s blessing. Icicles spread over the floor, jagged shards rising like teeth to slow his advance. Snow gathers in the air, and I thrust my hands forward, blowing a snowstorm toward him.
But he doesn’t hesitate. He moves through the frost and snow as if they’re nothing, his knives cutting through the icy wind. I lunge, sending a spike of ice shooting up from the ground straight at his chest. He twists, the motion seamless, and the spike shatters against the edge of his knife. His free blade lashes out in the same breath, grazing my shoulder. The cut burns, the sting far sharper than I expect, and I stagger back.
He presses the advantage. One knife aims high, forcing me to parry, while the other sweeps low, slicing at my feet. I barely leap away in time, the edge cutting through my tunic. His strikes are relentless, faster and more precise than any fighter I’ve faced. There’s no hesitation in his movements, no opening to exploit.
The air around us crackles as I summon more of my magic. Snow and ice surge to my will, a wave of frost slamming towardhim. It crashes into his chest, driving him back a step, but he plants his feet, horns gleaming.
My pulse pounds in my ears as I push harder, frozen tendrils snaking across the ground to trap his ankles. They latch on for a moment, long enough for me to aim another strike, but he breaks free, the sheer strength of his legs cracking the ice like glass.
I can feel my magic draining. Winter’s blessing is so weak within me. I haven’t been back to Castletree recently, and I’ve been passing energy to George to keep him awake. My breaths come shorter, sharper. The fae knows. I see it in his unyielding gaze, in the cruel twist of his mouth. A sickening sense of disquiet riots through me when I catch sight of his eyes. The irises glow red as embers.
He lunges forward, one blade feinting left while the other arcs toward my ribs. I barely dodge in time as he cuts my back, leaving a thin line of searing pain in its wake.
My knees hit the ground. I force myself upright with a final burst of snow. Blinding and brutal, a whirlwind roars to life around me.
For a moment, I think it’s enough. The storm closes in, ice slicing through the air like shards of glass. Tools fly from the workbench, and splinters of wooden beams join the broken ice.
But then, impossibly, he steps through it. He’s…unyielding. Unstoppable. Not only his strength but the precision of every strike, the anticipation of my moves. It’s as if he’s been fighting battles for eons.
He closes the distance between us, his knives slamming against my blade with a force that reverberates through my arms. My grip falters. He crouches, his leg hooking behind mine, and suddenly I’m on my back, the breath ripped from my lungs.
When was the last time I fought a battle and feared for my life? I’ve clashed with goblins, ice wraiths, the Prince ofthe Below himself, but this…this is something unknown. I don’t know how to fight this.
He looms above me, his knives gleaming with frost as he raises them over my chest?—
Footsteps thunder in the workshop’s doorway. I turn my head to see Farron, Dayton, Ezryn, and Rosalina. Relief wars with panic as I see her. She shouldn’t be here.
“George told us there was an unwanted guest,” Dayton says, drawing his twin blades. “Lucky for me. I’ve been feeling soft these past few days. You’re just the target I need to get back in shape.”
A glimmer of light appears in Ezryn’s hand as a massive war hammer materializes. “You threaten the Sworn Protector of the Realms, and thus you threaten the safety of all those in the Enchanted Vale. We shall respond accordingly.”
Orange fireballs erupt in Farron’s hands. “Yeah, what they said. Wait, do you have horns? Are those actualhorns? Can I see?”
But all their jabbering is drowned out as Rosalina steps forward, eyes blazing. Two massive, snaking briars screech up through the floorboards, covering the ground with golden thorns. Her voice shakes the vials on the walls and rattles the wooden beams: “Get away from my mate!”
Dayton sighs and twirls his blades. “Now I’ve got to hurry, Pointy. If she gets to you first, there won’t be any left of you for the rest of us.”
