Chaos & Crowns, page 16
part #1 of Divine Articles Series
His brow arched ever so slightly, and a faint smirk traced its way across his face. With his eyes fixed upon me, he repeated his words. “Are you checking me out, fox?”
Panic fissured through my body. My mouth ran utterly dry, and I stammered. “Uh, wha—no! No, of course not!”
Kol flashed another grin, the corners of his mouth stretching wide and eyes twinkling with delight. He then licked his lower lip in a slow, languid movement, something that sent sparks of electricity throughout the room and made my heart flutter. “Hmm. That’s too bad.”
Then he sauntered out the door, a smug smirk curling his lips; the sound of his cocky chortle still echoing down the hallway.
Another sudden wave of embarrassment washed over me, leaving my skin prickling and my heart racing. There was no mistaking the heat rushing to my cheeks; it was as if he knew exactly where my eyes had gone when he had walked right out the door. I wished that the floor could open and swallow me whole, instead of having to face whatever conclusion he’d drawn from his observation. My stomach knotted with fear as I wondered what thoughts were now playing in his head.
Chapter 25
Baz
Foul creatures, those daemons. Creatures born of tormented souls that were cast out from the world. They existed without a body, unable to take physical form. These beings have nothing but hatred and resentment for humanity; envy for what they lack, but never could obtain. But despite their malignant nature, we pitied them.
Hundreds of them, their wings black like ink, left the Gate as the sun descended into its nightly slumber. Their exit created a mesmerizing contrast between their own nightmarish color and the still vibrant blues and oranges that hovered over them in the sky.
The Gate emitted a horrifying stench of Hell, a combination of burning flesh and rot that made our noses wrinkle in revulsion. Our Fey senses were often too keen for comfort. As if we could feel the very essence of death and decay emanating from beyond the entrance; an oppressive feeling hung in the air , more powerful than any mere smell might be alone.
Drea pulled her hair back into a towering ponytail, and it cascaded down her back like a flowing fountain of fresh blood. We couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of dread as we watched her bask in the Gate’s presence, seemingly unbothered by its ghastly aura.
“Thirsty,” we told her.
She waved a hand, disregarding our insatiable hunger.
Screams erupted into the air from all directions, as the inhabitants of Windlar saw the massive daemons soaring high above them. Drea stood in awe at the sight, her entire body illuminated by a exhilarating energy surging through her. Even with the danger lurking above, she couldn’t help but smile at the beauty of it all. Reveling in the chaos below.
We needed to taste her again. If not her blood, then her lips, the way they shimmered with the subdued sunlight.
We lunged at her, attempting to grab hold of her arm. However, she effortlessly yanked it away from our grip with a surge of strength we hadn’t expected. Extending her arm outwards from her chest, an invisible gust of magick exploded outward from within her and sent us flying backwards into the ground. Her body language screamed self-confidence as she flexed her powerful stance and glared down at us with determined eyes. We bellowed in agony, the harsh sound reverberating deep within us. Even through the agonizing pain, we could still make out her sinister grin etched across her face. It was clear she was taking pleasure in our pain.
She let her hand drop, and although her magick faded, we still could not stand. It seemed no matter the amount of physical strength this body possessed, nothing could compete with the sheer magnitude of her power.
“Naughty,” she clicked her tongue and shifted her gaze upwards, where a hillside was perched on the horizon. “Looks like we have company. Take care of it, beastie. And you will be rewarded greatly.”
Our body reacted to that menacing smile, trembled with anticipation. We wanted—no, needed — to taste her. Perhaps if we were to be very good and obedient, she might let us taste more than just her blood. The thought of her delicious center aching under our chin was so tantalizing that we can feel our mouths watering at the prospect.
The boy in our head would not be happy about it, but he made no attempts to protest at our thoughts this time. He remained eerily silent behind the bars of the prison of our conjoined mind.
Perhaps he was gone for good.
As we tilted our heads up to view the hillside, two figures were in a struggle against a couple of daemons. It was impossible to tell who held the upper hand, and all we could do was stand there with mounting anxiety. The sun reflected off the shining blade as it cut through the thick air with deadly precision. Glistening, it left dark crimson stains in its wake as they swung it with violent rage.
We recognized their faces, and we could not contain the vicious smile that spread across our face.
Oh, this was going to be fun.
Elm
Though Windlar was mostly composed of forest, there were patches of wide-open plain spread throughout. Most of the nymphs living in this realm had chosen to settle down in makeshift dwellings tucked within the wooded area, but some preferred to set up cabins on the plains. These secluded homesteads allowed for a completely different kind of life compared to those dwelling deep in the woods, and its inhabitants relished their sense of freedom and space.
My body was aglow with a faint, silvery light that dissipated as we touched down on the hilltop, giving us an incredible view of the sprawling plain below. The gentle wind caused my hair to fly wildly, and I took a deep breath to steady myself. Rhen and I both drew in a sharp inhale as our eyes widened at the sight above us; dozens of daemons were flying overhead in circles, covering the entire land.
They looked like a combination of massive birds of prey and bats. Even from the air, their wingspan appeared to be twice the length of Kol’s. As they flew, they could have been mistaken for sylphs at first glance with their humanoid bodies. But the closer they descended, the more apparent it became that these creatures weren’t of a divine nature, but instead had a much more sinister, beastly appearance.
One’s daemonic coal-black eyes locked onto us and headed straight for our direction. Without a moment of hesitation, I threw myself over Rhen, shielding her from the creature’s sharp claws with my body. I could feel its breath tickling the hairs on the back of my neck. My heart raced within me, thumping loudly in anticipation of another strike.
“Watch out!”
We collided with the lush green grass, and Rhen let out a slight moan as my weight pressed her down. I hastily rolled off of her and propped up on my elbows, looking at her face for a sign of distress. But I didn’t have time to check if she was okay because the daemon swooped down again, this time with even greater determination.
No time for hesitation. There was no Kol to save her if I failed to protect her again.
I leapt to my feet, hastily grasping my sword with a firm grip. Beads of sweat trickled down my forehead as I prepared to face the daemon again. I whispered the name of my sword softly under my breath. It seemed in tune with me, as if it had come alive within my grasp. As I said the name again, this time louder and more confident, a surge of raw energy ran through me, and it vibrated beneath my palms. My sword was an extension of myself - a heavy weight in which I could feel its power radiating off it like a living being that had allied itself with me. My palms were sweating as I held the hilt of the glinting metal tightly in my hands. The electricity emanating from it was almost tangible, sending a current of energy coursing through me and up to my wrists, as if to remind me why I was holding it.
The daemon flapped his wings, his sharp eyes spotting my weapon just in time to save himself from the sharp edge of my blade. He hovered in midair, watching me cautiously as if he thought I could still make a move against him. His large, leathery wings beat slowly against the air as he assessed me and looked for an opening to retire back into the shadows. I lurched forward, thrusting my sword out towards the target, feeling a hint of magick zipping off the edge. I put all my strength into the swing, determined to make it count. The air twisted around me as I put my heart and soul into this single attack; there could be no room for error. My sword seemed to almost sing as it cut through the air towards him.
The noise erupted from his throat, an otherworldly sound that felt like it was slicing through my eardrums.
It flew toward me, and I met it with a slash of my sword. This time, it made contact. Black liquid oozed down the blade, leaking over my hands. The warm, sticky liquid coated my fingers, loosening my grip. The daemon recoiled, crashing into the lush green grass. Its loud screech echoed across the area, and I tried desperately to keep hold of my sword.
I’d never really given much thought on how to kill a daemon. For a long time, I’d assumed they were tales and legends. So, I could only hope driving my sword through its writhing body would work.
I did just that, taking the slippery hilt and jabbing into the already injured daemon. The creature made a sickening crackling, choking sound as it collapsed onto the lush green grass. Its body lay haphazardly on the ground, its limbs splayed out in a strange, unnatural position.
Rhen let out a loud, shrill scream that reverberated throughout the land. “Elm!”
I spun around to see two menacing daemons lunging towards her. One of them snatched her flailing arm and drug her away. Immediately, I jolted into motion, sprinting towards the pair, desperate to save her from their clutches. Adrenaline coursed through my veins as I shouted at them. Grasping the sword with both hands, I tried with all my might to swing it over my head and drive it into the daemon’s chest. Yet, the tar like substance that coated my hands made it impossible for me to keep a grip on the blade, and it slipped from my grasp.
Its long claws sunk into her flesh, pulling her up with a swift tug. I was screaming desperately, trying to grab on to her flailing feet with my own hands. The daemon released her with a swish of its claw, and she fell on top of me with a loud thud, knocking the wind out of my lungs.
“You okay?” I wheezed, helping her get to her feet.
“Yeah, I think so, but–there are way too many of them.”
I nodded, stooping to pick up my sword. “We need backup.”
Another menacing daemon appeared before us, its claws extended to grab us and tear our bodies apart for its next meal. It moved so fast that there was barely time to scream before it reached us. Its beady eyes seemed to dance with delight as it advanced on us, ready to feast on our flesh. But to my complete and utter surprise, Rhen didn’t shy away from the attack. Instead, she drew Bethalar–her sword–from her belt and swung it with an impressive show of strength and agility. The blade sang through the air as it made a graceful arc upwards, producing a sound that seemed to resonate with a distant battle cry.
The Fey weapon hummed with energy the second its name was uttered. I hadn’t been expecting that. Rhen had barely received any proper instruction when it came to combat, so I assumed her tussle with the kaanhound had been impressive, but dumb luck.
But this — this was something else entirely. The sword seemed to glow as if painted in a bright mystical light, and it cut through the air like something out of a fairytale.
Her muscles strained beneath her skin as she tightened her grip and raised the elongated weapon over her head. She mustered all the strength and courage she had in that moment, pushing on until finally, with a loud thud, the heavy sword collided with the daemon’s head. A shrill cry echoed throughout the air as it hit its mark; pain reverberating from one corner to another. Still, she’d only hit it with the broad side of the blade, so it swung around again for another taste.
She was dripping with sweat, her focus unwavering. She jabbed forward with the sword in her hand, aiming for the creature’s black flesh. The impact made a resounding thud as it crashed to the ground, thrashing and wriggling about like a fish out of water. A loud screech filled the air as it slowly drew its last agonizing breath.
A horde of its comrades came to his call and formed a tight circle around us. Rhen and I exchanged a look, realizing they drastically outmatched us. We had no chance of defeating this many on our own.
Taking her hand, I glimmered us both to the encampment of the Hunt. Phylix had been paying attention and noticed us quickly, along with the black blood carelessly smeared across my hands and clothing. He rushed in our direction, worry written plainly on his face. He was not alone; several Hunt members were stationed nearby, all of them conversing in hushed tones and eyeing both of us suspiciously.
“What’s happening?”
I was taken aback as Rhen stepped in and spoke for me. A powerful sense of control and dominance emanating from her. “There’s a daemon attack in Windlar and we could use some help.”
I had half expected Phylix to require that she stay back with the others, but instead, he gave her a slight nod before turning his gaze on me. “How many?”
“At least fifty.”
He nodded, conveying that he understood my words, but I grabbed his shoulder and held him in place. “They’re strong, Phyl. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
Phylix swallowed hard, considering. He eyed the surrounding crowd. “You need Phyre.”
It wasn’t a question. I nodded. Without Kol at my side backing me up, I needed someone that could fight at my side. Not that Rhen wasn’t a decent fighter, but she lacked experience. With a raging Phyre, we might stand a chance.
“She’s inside the tent,” he said to Rhen, tilting his sweaty forehead toward it. For a moment, she looked like she was going to protest, but she bit her tongue and went to fetch Phyre.
With Rhen out of earshot, Phylix released a deep sigh. “There were three daemons yesterday. Maya managed to kill two of them on her own, but not before the third ripped her open.”
I shut both of my eyes tightly, understanding the weight of what he’d just revealed. “Fuck.”
“These things are dangerous, Elm. They are soulless spirits, but they do not act on their own. Something is controlling them.”
“Or someone.”
His chin tilted in agreement, then his eyes softened. “Are you sure the girl should be fighting those things?”
I wasn’t. Every fiber of my being told me it was safer if she stayed behind, but she’d been preparing for this for weeks. And she’d handled one on her own. Most members of the Hunt were thrust into a battle sooner than that.
But most of them weren’t human.
Against my better judgment, I told him yes. “She’s a good fighter.”
Phyre and Rhen made their way to us, their faces illuminated with delight. Phyre’s lips stretched into a wide smile, an unspoken joy bubbling in her eyes. Rhen seemed to match her step for step, a contentedness visible on her face.
“Talking about me, Elmy boy? Because I’m an excellent fighter.”
I winked at my friend, feeling a wave of assurance come over me with her there by my side. With her presence, I felt more at ease to take my eyes away from Rhen without worrying too much.
“You’re all right, I guess.”
She stepped forward with determination, unsheathing her short sword from its holster and standing close. The metal of the blade gleamed softly in the dimness, pressing lightly against my skin as if to show me its capabilities.
“I can beat your ass.”
A soft, amused laugh emitted from me as a smile spread across my face. “Lucky hit.”
Phyre sheathed her blade and grinned, a wild look in her eyes. “All right, where are these daemons? I’m itching to get some blood on my hands.”
We quickly gathered the finest warriors the Hunt could provide, Phyre included, and set off towards the windy hills of Windlar. The sky was filled with dark, bat-like creatures that circled the forest like hawks, searching for prey. The daemons were a menacing presence, their numbers felt infinite as they cast an eerie shadow across the woodlands below. They flew in perfect formation, a terrifying flock of darkness that showed no signs of stopping.
But these creatures weren’t small birds that would be satisfied with a few crumbs; they required a substantial feast to satiate their voracious appetite.
Rhen’s breath hitched in her throat, and she pointed down at the treeline with a trembling finger. I followed her gaze and couldn’t believe what my eyes were seeing. A surge of anger filled my body, all-consuming and wild.
My jaw clenched and my fists balled up tight at my sides as I tried to contain the rage flowing through me. My muscles shivered with hatred at the sight of my brother’s white hair below. And beside him, the queen of darkness herself.
Phyre moved to stand by my side, and I could feel the warmth of her fire magick radiating onto my arm. It sent shivers down my spine, but it was a comforting feeling. I looked up at her and saw an intensity in her gaze. “I’ll take care of these bastards,” she said, gesturing to the daemons, then to my brother and his evil companion. “You take care of those.”
Shadows crept slowly around me, licking at the edges of my skin like a cool spring breeze, and soon I was submerged in complete darkness. I felt as though I was plummeting into a void, when suddenly something grasped onto my arm. A hand was tethered to me, grounding me with its gentle grasp and allowing me to float through the darkness.
Rhen.
But I’d already imagined myself ripping through Baz’s shadows, so I couldn’t shake her off. We emerged just behind him, but he turned to face us, a maniacal grin plastered on his face.
So much for the element of surprise.
“Brother,” he said in a voice that was his, but not his either. “So nice of you to join us.”
Then he looked to Rhen, the light of the sunset dancing off the horns that seemed to twist and slowly curl from his alabaster hair. As the wind rustled through the trees, his icy blue eyes sparkled with delight.
