Chapter 4 Zayn #3
“Sure. Let’s go with that, then,” Hale spoke.
“Actual fact is also that Winter Nox is an unkillable abomination capable of invoking Risen Reckoning at his will—at his fucking fancy. Anytime. Anywhere. Upon anyone. His threat is eternal, which is bad enough. A threat to everyone, even those wearing rose-colored glasses. Now, let’s say we believe you, and he’s been abducted and held against his will by this Ruxnoth megalomaniac—now we have a youngling under the influence of a centuries-old experienced, highly-powerful being who was resourceful, calculated, and genius enough to find a way to escape the Severance and to create his own fucking metaphysical plane.
So now this already volatile True fucking Celestial being has a magical nuke he can wield to his liking—a magical nuke that has the means to bring about an apocalyptic event. ”
“Your assessment rests on the basis that Winter has no agency,” Vax pointed out.
“A fear-based argument that’s twisting everything,” Evira said.
“And completely discounting the positive force that Winter is, and the fact that he’s needed to take out this immediate threat in Ruxnoth.
If we operate from the viewpoint that somebody at their worst could maybe do something horrific, that won’t just stay at Winter.
It will go on and on, encompassing so many powerful beings.
It's a fear spiral. We understand where it’s rooted, but what you’re not recognizing is that Winter is the farthest thing from Morien Morgrave. You trust in Sylas—”
“We trust in Sylas because he can be stopped, even eliminated, if it came down to it,” Hale clarified.
“In fact, he and Winter’s other parents will likely take extreme measures to spare their boy.
At that point, when Sylas is suitably weakened, we’ll use him to forcibly annihilate the threat that Winter is. ”
I jolted—at so much of that.
They didn’t know Sylas was dead. It had been kept under wraps really fucking well.
So far, anyway. Who knew how long something that major could last without word getting out.
Then a whole other wave of mass panic would hit the supernatural world.
People were even freaked out that with Ruxnoth having that transmutation ability and twisted Celestial power, even Ariana Martel wouldn’t be able to put Ruxnoth down.
“How could Sylas do that?” Evira asked.
Raquel told us, “We’ve studied Winter Nox more than any other being alive, in greater detail than even his parents and close allies. There is a means through their bloodline connection to bring that about. And once we have Sylas, we’ll ensure he provides those details.”
“You’re seriously talking about torturing the Last Necromancer?” I growled. “You’re crossing the line from fear and protection into fanaticism. You’re gonna fucking create all that you’re afraid of if you’re not careful.”
“Winter will come for you. When he does, his family will react and try to keep him here, out of Ruxnoth’s clutches—thanks for the intel about what’s really happening there, by the way.
That only strengthens what we need to do,” Hale said.
“It’ll demand massive power from Sylas, given the necromancers working alongside that True Celestial.
At that point, we’ll take them both and do what’s needed for us all. ”
Fuck. They weren’t hearing us. It just… went too damn deep with them.
And maybe us saying anything wasn’t gonna dent things anyway, and never could.
It was Win. He was needed.
The one they were so fucking terrified of… seeing him as a person, seeing the real him.
They both called their power. Raquel signaled the army behind them.
And then Evira was grunting as they mass-fired streams of magic at the ice wall.
The vampires and wolves lunged at it, denting it with a combination of supernatural speed and power. Slamming, slamming, slamming.
“How long can you maintain it?” Vaxan asked her.
His voice sounded… weaker.
A shudder went through me when I saw his black thorn crown losing its magical luster. The Sunveil shield was almost out of juice. He’d been battling and using his power way too much right in the morning sun.
“A few minutes,” Evira answered.
“Channel me,” I offered. “Vax is waning because of the sun, so it can only be me.”
Vax shook his head. “Then all three of us will be weakened, just to hold up a shield, while the enemy will still be functional, the battle not yet won.”
“Go,” Evira told us. “Teleport out.”
“No. Not happening,” I kind of snapped. “We’re not leaving you here to be taken, to be hurt by them.”
“Zayn—”
I eyed Vax. “Where the fuck is Vorzyr? You called for help, right?”
“I had to leave a message. Given everything happening, those within that particular circle are taxed, to say the least.”
“Then what the—”
Red lightning lit up the sky.
That was the color of Vorzyr’s magic. So he’d made it after all?
Hold up.
Since when could he do the whole lightning thing with his power? I mean, I didn’t know the whole deal there, he did have those additional special abilities—Command of Beasts and the one that could push back Celestial power. But that wasn’t this lightning.
The lightning started sputtering, weakening.
What the shit was happening?
Rays of it shot down from the sky, forming a red glow.
The moment it hit the ground, it sent out a small shockwave just shy of touching the hostiles.
Then the glow dissipated.
And… and… fucking shit.
He was there.
No, that couldn’t—
How was—
There, in a deep crouch, crimson power sputtering in and out around him, was Sylas.
He was… alive.
Sylas Morgrave was alive!
Evira, Vax, and I stared at one another in a whole load of shock.
Holy fucking shit. I couldn’t believe it. He’d been pulled back from… he hadn’t remained in… he was here.
Oh my God.
The hostiles were so surprised, they halted, magic pulling back, vamps and wolves stopping their brute force wailing against the wall. While they hadn’t known Sylas had died, him showing up like this was a big enough deal as it was.
“Stay your hand,” he rumbled across the battlefield.
He pushed out of the crouch, to his feet, but staggered unsteadily.
No. I just reacted, conjuring a cane and sending it over to him. I winced when I saw I’d accidentally conjured it the way I would’ve liked it—neon-pink zebra print.
He stared at it for a moment, but then clasped it in his right hand and gave me a chin lift of thanks.
Why had he shown up here, though? Vorzyr got word to him and Sylas came instead? In this state? He hated showing weakness of any kind. And honestly he was clearly vulnerable right now—on a fucking battlefield. A battlefield full of people who feared what he was in a major way.
Oh.
That was it.
He wanted them to see him like this.
Weak. Struggling. It undercut their fear logic, their trauma when it came to Morien.
It was genius.
And also fucking reckless.
“What happened to you?” Hale called over to him. “How are you… like this?”
“Ruxnoth,” was all he said. And then he took a step forward using the cane, his gaze sweeping the battlefield, before clocking Hale and Raquel as the leaders of this shitshow. “I need your help,” he told everyone.
A whole lot of choked noises, shocked looks, and talk was exchanged on the battlefield at his words.
Hale frowned. “Our help?”
“Correct.”
“If this is some chess move to spare your son—”
“My son will be spared regardless,” Sylas ground out.
“Though, you may not be if you continue with your current path.” Sylas made eye contact with me, Evira, and Vax, then told the leaders, “You’re so reactive in light of the skewed so-called revelations publicized by Ruxnoth that you’ve come at the Crown Heir of the Dracoryn Realm and the High Lord Heir of the Excetra Crown, intending to abduct them.
Strategically, you need both the Basilisk Kingdom and the Dracoryn Realm on your side in order to garner enough backing to achieve your goal.
Yet, if I hadn’t intervened, you would’ve destroyed any chance of that.
In fact, for all your fear of becoming the victimized at the hands of those more powerful, your actions today set you up to become just that through your actions. ”
“Tensions are high, Sylas. The stakes are extreme,” Raquel said.
“I’m all too aware. But the way you’re going about handling that is worsening it all. I’m here to offer you an alternative, to show you an alternative.”
“All right, let’s talk,” Raquel agreed.
“Great,” Sylas said.
And then he staggered over to them—like, right in the middle of the battlefield.
People moved out of the way, looking both worried and stunned, as they inched back a bit on all sides.
Sylas stopped, then looked out at them, breathing heavily. “One of you mind conjuring a chair, a bench, something along those lines?”
A sorcerer with spiky purple hair in a fancy silver suit—yeah, a suit on a battlefield…
whatever—twirled his hand, tangerine power sparking as he conjured a crimson leather chair.
I smiled to myself. The crimson was a nod to Sylas’ power, the guy kind of showing his respect in the process, despite the whole Temperance rhetoric. Well, it was a complex shitshow.
“Much appreciated,” Sylas told him. He sank down on it, still gripping the cane.
“Motherfucker, yeah, that’s better.” He held up his free hand that wasn’t holding the cane, and it was trembling.
“Just to be clear, if any of you are considering using this as an opportunity to summon your Nihilumbra creation to subdue me, in my current state, it’s likely it would actually kill me.
Not sure the fallout of that would be conducive to keeping you all safe. ”
“We’re not going to do that,” Raquel assured him. “We agreed to talk, so we’ll honor that. We’re not unreasonable.”
“Just deeply traumatized.” Off their looks, he smiled sadly. “Me too.”