She frowned, a soft hiss of static in her ears. That was odd. They’d never blocked her thoughts before. She tried again: I’m alright. Stand down. But white noise drowned out the words, scattering letters into the wind.
"This isn’t right," she said, glancing between Kascien’s furrowed brow and the nerves on the Jirian’s faces. "I don’t think those are my people."
"Who else could it be? What other Wyverns do you know of?" Halo asked.
And then, as a whole, the Wyverns dove straight for them with shrills and echoing yips. Joyous, murderous sounds.
This so wasn’t good.
***
Kascien felt them coming before they ever landed, his stomach sinking further in his gut with dread. He could feel the power dripping off of them, sickly sweet and coated in warped magic. These weren’t the Kiir’vanan, or any other rogue group out there.
These were mutants, bred for speed and brutality. And knowing the Sovereign, bred to hunt them.
The creatures landed, more dragon with human features than a blended mix of both races. They were sleek, hard, and muscular, beautiful specimens covered in a sheen of midnight scales that sparked with traces of energy. It blossomed off their shoulders in waves.
The leader stood proud, lifting her head with a low whuff of sound. Her face was sharp and angular, her cheekbones high with a pointed chin. Her dark hair fell around her face in ringlets and her eyes were liquid silver, hauntingly familiar and cold as ice. Shit, damn, fuck, these beasts were test-tube babies spawned from Wylde’s blood. Anger rippled through him and everyone burst into action.
Yuri began to shout orders and the creatures called for blood, circling them, predators to a feast of prey. He caught Wylde’s steadfast gaze as she shoved Irianthe into his hand. His fingers wrapped around the leather hilt. With a nod to Wylde, he let loose a battle cry and leapt forwards. Wyvern met mutant in a clash of bodies and screams. Blades swung and teeth gnashed, ripping through flesh with painful accuracy.
Wylde slammed her blade through the eye socket of one mutant and it reared back, spraying blood. He felt the sticky warmth splatter his face and he slipped Irianthe between the ribs of another, barely dodging a swipe of claws. They grazed his shirt and he jerked away before he could be dragged closer.
He felt Wylde’s back press against his as they fought, working together to protect each other. He didn’t think—how could he?—he just moved in tune with his breathing, slashing with one hand and pressing monsters back magically with the other. His fingers twitched and sweat beaded on his brow as he flung one mutant across the sand, right into the waiting blade of Mackie. She crowed and shot him a look that said, ‘Nice job, for a brat!’ and he felt a rush of pride.
They cut them down, beast by beast, the sun baking down on them until only the leader was left. She screeched and paced, watching them with cautious, careful eyes. Her nostrils flared once, the only warning given, and then she lunged. The Jiria reacted, but too slowly, and the mutant mauled Halo. A ragged scream tore from his lips, then died as the beast buried its fangs in his throat and ripped until blood gushed.
Yuri screamed something unintelligible, slamming into the side of the creature, knocking it flat with her lean body. She straddled the beast and even as its claws sunk deep into her shoulder, tearing a line down her arms, she stabbed it repetitively, screaming in Vanlan. Blood soaked the ground, but she didn’t stop until the beast had stilled, and only then did she pry the claws out of her arms. She spat on the corpse with a curse that couldn’t be translated.
For a moment, all was still. Wylde made a soft sound beside him and Kascien wrapped his arms around her, unable to stop himself as he drew her body to his. She clung to him, trembling as he kissed her, their lips mingling desperately. His heart raced like a sandhare’s. She pulled away first, looking him in the eye.
"You okay?"
"I’m fine. But…" His gaze flitted to Halo, his body only one among several other dead Jirians. The rest of the rogues had dropped their heads in a silent prayer and Kascien’s hand found the comfort of Wylde’s as they said their thanks. He turned to Yuri, whose face was void of all emotion. "I’m sorry…"
"You couldn’t have known." She hid the pain under the surface of her shell. "They were abominations."
"They were Magi experiments." His voice was hollow in his ears. All eyes turned and locked on him, but he stood tall, refusing to be cowed. "I know they are. My master’s mark is all over them."
Jaovari limped over to them, butting her head against Kascien’s shoulder. He sheathed Irianthe and reached up to stroke her muzzle. "And it will only get worse. The Sovereign, he’ll do anything for power. He’ll keep creating these monstrosities until they’ve killed every last Wyvern—Jirian or Kiir’vanan—until they’ve taken over the world. We have to do something now."
He could only think of the tests run on poor Neeve, her mind already fractured with visions of the future. She would wither and die under their pressure, but it wouldn’t matter, because they’d figure out a way to bio-engineer dragonkind. And it would be bloody…
"The Sovereign has to be stopped." He shook his head, his voice achingly soft as he stared at Wylde, waiting for pain to flood across her face at his decision. She was his. They’d finally found each other, but she would lose him either way. There was no way he could actually beat the Sovereign, but… "I’m the only one who can do it."
"I’m going with you." Wylde’s voice was strong as she stepped up. "Neeve and Ileen are my responsibility; I may no longer be their princess, but they are my people and I’ve vowed to protect them. We’ll get them back, Jaovari." She reached out and touched the dragon’s nose. "I promise."
"Those bastards killed my people," Yuri said, her voice a picture of controlled chaos. "And I’ll be damned if I let them get away with it. Count me in." As she stepped forwards, her people raised their blades in a chorus of cries, wholly in agreement with her.
"We’ll need weapons. And a strategy." Kascien said, looking to the rogue leader.
Yuri’s smile flashed dangerous. "And then they die."
Chapter Twenty
His entire body thrummed with nervous energy, try as he might to shake it off. They had returned to the Jiria camp to upgrade their weapons, strapping short daggers to their thighs or hiding them in their clothes. Kascien slid a knife into the side of his boot and patted his duster. Irianthe gleamed in the sunlight, hanging proud at his side. His fingers traced the ruby-encrusted hilt and he forced a deep breath through his nose.
There was no way in fucking hell he’d ever be able to beat the Sovereign.
"It’s gonna be alright," Wylde said from behind him, making him startle.
He turned to look at her. Their eyes met and Wylde smiled, reaching for his hand. Their fingers twined together and she tugged him along until they were side by side, kicking up sand as they walked. Her shoulder bumped his, her eyes molten silver, warm with affection.
"There’s no way, Wylde—" he began, but her fingertips on his lips cut him off.
"Shh. You don’t know that. Your name is Kascien, after all."
He frowned. "It’s just a stupid myth."
"Maybe, maybe not, but you’ve gotten strong in such a short amount of time. Give yourself a little credit, Kass. Have a little faith. You can do this."
"We’re all gonna die," he moaned. She punched him in the shoulder and he spun her, encircling her with his arms. Her lips curved into a devilish smile and he placed a chaste kiss upon them. His fingers twined through the dark wisps of her hair, then cradled her cheeks in his palms. She trailed fingers across his jaw in tiny circles.
"Promise me you’ll give it your all."
"It won’t be enough."
"It has to be." Her lips melded with his, this time hot and passionate, nibbling along his lip. Their tongues tangled together, fiery snakes slithering back and forth, and Kascien came up for air.
"Wylde—"
"Let’s go, kiddos. We’ve got Magi ass to
kick." Yuri swooped in, snapping her fingers to avert their attention from one another. She wore a grim smile, but the light in her eyes danced, her excitement like firelight.
"Ready or not, here we come," Kascien said, squeezing Wylde’s hand one more time. Then the Wyverns took to the skies, unable to hold back shrills; excitement for some and anxiety for others. Kascien’s wings pounded the air, rising higher and higher, then he stretched out and rode the thermals, all the way back to Albion.
God, they were so screwed.
Wylde mouthed a single word—faith—and then threw her head back in a cry.
They landed at the edge of Albany and Kascien stepped forwards. He’d already gone over this with the group before they’d ever left the camp, but nerves made his stomach twist and his mind flighty. Wylde and the Jiria would brave Esperidion, with only their weapons and Castor’s magic to protect them. And Kascien would find his way to the Sovereign.
He glanced over the faces of the people he’d come to trust, a second family of sorts: The hard-edged Yuri; Mackie with her trademark scowl; the coolly confident Castor; Bluff, looking unruffled, a smile on his face. He thought of how hard they’d worked together to take down that garbler, then shook his head. They’d be fine. Maybe Wylde was right; he just needed a little faith.
Digging deep into his pocket, he pulled out his stubby piece of Portal chalk and held out his hand. Castor’s brow creased, but Kascien held his head high, his shoulders straightening. "You’ve taught me everything I know, and I want to thank you.” He placed the chalk in Castor’s hand. "Use it well."
The older Mage clamped a calloused hand down on Kascien’s shoulder, squeezing gently. "Make me proud, boy. Trust yourself. That bastard deserves what’s coming to him." He cleared his throat, then stepped towards the Jiria. "Let’s go. We need to get in, get the dragons, and get out as quickly as possible. Ready yourselves. The Magi fight dirty."
He strode ahead, the rogues in his wake, but Wylde broke away from the group. She ran to Kascien’s side and took his hands in hers, kissing his knuckles once before kissing his lips, only a whisper of a touch, but somehow it set Kascien’s mouth afire. Made him yearn for more. "Be safe, Kass."
"I’ll do my best. No promises, though." He tried for light, but it fell flat, sounding morbid instead. "Save Neeve and Ileen. You’re their only hope."
She nodded, then began to walk off. His heart skipped into his throat as he watched her leave. No. He stepped out. "Wylde?" She turned and looked at him and his world spun with the reality of the situation.
"I love you. When we’re done with all of this, we’ll save those drakehounds, once and for all."
She smiled the sweetest smile he’d ever seen, nodded, and turned away. He watched her duck under Castor’s arm and through the glimmer of the Portal the man had drawn on the side of the building. Then she was gone and his heart felt empty as fear started to creep through him like crawling vines.
Yuri hesitated beside him, her palm resting on the hilt of her blade. "You’ll be alright," she said, ruffling his hair with her free hand. He could see the pain hidden deep inside her eyes, but she wore a firm smile to mask it. "You’re Kascien, after all."
Kascien shot her a sour look, then sighed. They’d figure out it was nothing more than a name when the Sovereign won and he ended up dead.
Yuri merely laughed. "Godspeed, kid." She darted through the Portal without a moment’s hesitation. Then Castor was the only one left. The Mage sent him one final nod, the look on his face resolute, and went through himself. Slowly, the Portal closed behind them with a hiss of magic, leaving Kascien alone in the middle of the alley.
He stood there for a few minutes, just breathing: In, out. In, out. He could do this. They believed in him. Wylde believed in him…and if he died? He’d never see her beautiful face again, never feel the fiery brush of her lips on his, the way their mouths touched together, molded for one another. They were meant to be free, together. He wanted to live the rest of his days among the Jiria, with Wylde at his side. Damnit.
He had to win. Slowly his fear melted away and a strong, steely resolve rippled up like his scales, fiery red and gold, beautiful in their splendor. His hand tightened around Irianthe’s hilt, squeezing it once, and then he took off, headed for his destination and hoping like hell this went smooth as silk.
He would find the Sovereign and he’d do whatever was left in his power to make sure the man never hurt another person, Mage or Wyvern. In, out, and done.
Of course, nothing was ever that easy. As he made a turn, he caught the sight of a man with rusty red hair, a streak of white spiked through his bangs. The man let out a shout and he and three other Magi turned to take chase. The urge to flee raced up Kascien’s spine, but he fought it down. Instead he jutted his chin out and spun on them, one hand raised, ready to do battle.
The man’s eyes widened a little in recognition as their sights locked. “I can’t believe it…”
“You’d better,” Kascien said with a smirk, shooting out a beam of power that knocked the man backwards, flinging him into his friends like a bowling ball into pins. The men toppled over and Kascien lobbed another ball of energy. One man caught it, deflecting, but Kascien was faster. Invisible fingers twined around, wrapping around the man’s throat. He squeezed and the Mage went from ferocious to terrified as his air supply was cut off.
God, he wasn’t a violent person…but this was kill or be killed and he knew none of the Magi would hesitate to hurt him.
“Be good little Magi and stay down,” Kascien said, surprised at the ice in his voice. The man gasped for air, nodding frantically, and Kascien set him down. His powers whipped through his body, eager to be used. He held it in, turning on his heel and jogging past the men.
Unease prickled his neck and he glanced behind him, only to see the rust-haired man gathering energy. Kascien scowled and used his magic to slam the Mage’s head against the brick wall hard enough to knock him out. The man sunk to the ground, incapacitated.
The deeper he trekked into Albion, the more Magi cropped up. They truly were like rabbits that way. Kascien huffed, sending out warning shots, but this group was faster. They milled around him, energy smacking into his shields, striking him with enough force to bruise. They must’ve had an alert that their once-slave was armed and dangerous. He could just see the orders to bring him back to the Sovereign, dead or alive.
He sure as hell wasn’t going back to that bastard dead.
He fought swiftly, energy buzzing through one palm as Irianthe swiped and struck. Blood spattered the ground in crimson droplets and with each hit, Kascien’s stomach sunk further into his gut. There were too many of them, leering at him, pushing at him with their power. His back hit a brick wall and he let out a snarled curse in Vanlan.
“Stand down,” one man commanded as they edged closer and pinned him to the wall. Damnit!
Kascien’s shields buzzed like static in his ears, a rush of power, protecting him. He lashed out with a wave, but it only pushed his enemies back a few inches. Sweat trickled down the back of his neck as he glared at them. He gripped his dagger in his right hand, a scowl on his face.
“Back off.” The word that came from behind the wall of Magi was crisp, sharper than a knife, as Romas pushed his way to the front of the group. Romas’s eyes met Kascien’s and the man scowled.
“So little Kascien has found his way back home.” The dark-haired Mage lifted a hand and Kascien flinched back, pulling his shields tight against his skin, bracing for the blow that he’d hoped to never feel again in this lifetime.
But Romas swung his arm and instead of pain, the Magi around them let out shattering screams, dropping to the ground to clutch at their legs. Kascien gaped as they writhed, agony apparent on their features. God, this man was a monster. But why would he help him? Did it matter?
Kascien lunged forwards with Irianthe outstretched, but Romas’s hand wrapped around his wrist and jerked him to a halt. Kascien glared up into those dark, dark eye
s.
“Stand down, Kascien.” His voice was a rumble of thunder in the distance. “And let’s make haste.” With a long piece of chalk, Romas drew a Portal on the opposite wall. It buzzed to life and Romas motioned for him to go through.
Kascien wasn’t a fool. “Why should I trust you?”
“Because I don’t have a fucking clue as to what’s going on. My brother’s Forlorn, you’re apparently a Mage, and Vik tells me I have to protect you.” Romas’s eyes simmered with fire, as if he couldn’t believe this turn of events himself.
“Where are we going?”
“You’re here to fight our Sovereign. Right?”
“Yeah.” Their glares clashed like steel blades. “I have to stop him. I’m the only one who can do it.”
To his surprise, Romas smiled. “That’s what Vik said. That you’re our savior. I don’t know what to believe anymore.” He let out a low chuckle. “Let’s go, Kascien, before we get caught.”
Kascien nodded and stepped through the Portal. He felt Romas behind him, a steady hand on his shoulder, and then a hiss as the Portal drew closed behind them. He blinked away the stars and realized he was staring into the cruel face of one of the Magi past. Or rather, a photo. A photo that hung on the wall of a very long corridor.
They were in the Hall of Hell. Holy shit, the Sovereign was four paces away, behind those heavy oaken doors. Two guards stood at the door, on edge as soon as Kascien drew himself up. It was like they were waiting for him. Kascien drew a deep breath and reached for Irianthe, but Romas’s hand was clamped around his shoulder in a vice grip, threatening to break bones.
“Forwards, rat.” The all-too-familiar ice was back as he gave Kascien a shove. Kascien scrambled forwards, uncertainty spiking through his heart. Had he just walked right into the man’s trap? Goddamnit, how could he’ve been so stupid?
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