T. Grey - Ties That Bind

Everyone spoke in hushed voices or not at all. Tyrian was armed with metal gear over his shoulders, chest, and legs in a modern take on a knight's outfit, and three of his best Atal Warriors stood quietly, lethally holding battle axes that shined to a point and swords at their hips with knives and God knows what else in that belt. They wore loose-fitting linen shirts and close fitting pants. Telal was as ready as he'd ever be.

He wore some of his borrowed clothes from Tyrian, boots, pants, and a shirt. In holsters over his shoulders he had an enchanted long blade he'd made himself, enspelled with the same electrical spell as the daggers he had at his waist. He'd meditated for an hour before the meeting to check on his power levels. He wasn't near one hundred percent capacity yet but he'd be able to do some damage.

The past week he'd lain awake at night sometimes falling into fitful dreams about his brother. He saw different versions of the night going down. In half of them his brother killed him, and in the others he finished off his brother. Were they prophetic? Possibly.

What had surprised him though were his thoughts tonight. None of them catered to his brother or the predictions of what might happen. Instead he'd kept his nose buried in Lily's sweet smelling hair and held her close. He did love her, the little wench. How could he not when she so obviously forced herself into his life, changing him? He wanted to do more now. Wanted to learn how to ride that damn bike so he could take her out on it. To impress her? Maybe.

Most of all, his thoughts had drifted to the thought of mating. It was a joke how easily he could picture her in the gauzy black mating gown, the sacred etchings painted on her hands, stomach, and feet. The words of possession, love, and trust sharing between them in front of the entire kingdom. He could almost feel the audience kneeling before them as they recited their sacred vows, then the eruption of applause as they kissed under the bright sky of the rift. Almost. It almost felt real.

“We're ready.”

Telal nodded at Kearnyn then checked over the team once more. “Let's go.”

The team moved into place, the plans and orders of the operation already predetermined and memorized. Telal took Lyonis and Tyrian; Draven took Jackie and Thane, and Rayn and Henry transported Kearnyn and the three Atal Warriors.

The night sky glowed brightly in the rift. The normal pink and orange hues of the daytimes were now hazy with a gray light. Night in the rift was much darker than on earth where the moon cast a bright silver light over the planes. Here, unless you were in the vicinity of a torch, everything was shadowed and dark. Telal and his team would use the darkness to their benefit on this night.

“Let's move,” Telal said.

The team had ported in near one of the closest villages closest to the castle. The small houses were really just shacks made out of dried wood and hay across the roofs. No one could even dare to build a fireplace in such a home so when the sky went dark, they lived in darkness.

They quietly ran towards the hulking castle in the distance, taking out the random guard when necessary. The castle stuck out in the dark landscape like a flashing beacon. Torches hung on the outside of the castle in metal rungs; the firelight dancing against the dark stone. Kneeling down behind a hill of trees Telal counted the guards on the west wall. There were eight of them. When he'd come before there hadn't been one. Telal's muscles flexed with the urge to fight.

“He's expecting us.”

The team didn't have to nod to acknowledge they heard him. Telal wanted to embrace them all for their bravery, for helping him when not too long ago he couldn't say he'd return the favor unless he could get something out of it.

“Let's move.”

Tyrian and Kearnyn kept with him as they clung to the shadows and vegetation, swiftly but silently making their way to the castle. The rest of the teams circled wide so the team surrounded the guards. Telal squeezed his sword tight then lifted it out of the holster. They didn't announce their presence, didn't give the guards time to react. They launched and attacked.

Groans, the loud clanking of metal to metal, and the hiss of steel sliding into flesh sounded in the quiet night. Eight guards down, countless more to go. From here, they'd split. Tyrian and Kearnyn would go with him to find Alrik, the rest would try to secure the castle.

Telal ducked into the castle and made his way through the same tunnel he had before. No servants passed. In fact, the castle was still as the night outside, everyone in bed, or at least he hoped. Torches and burning candelabras lit their way. Telal entered the great hall first to find it empty. The dais with the throne up above devoid of his darker half.

A sound caught his ears. A whirring of air like a person twirling or a cowboy swinging a lasso in a fast circle above his head. They all heard it, their eyes searched the area. Then the sound stopped. Tyrian suddenly dropped to a knee and they all turned to see an arrow embedded in the wall behind him.

“They’re here!” Telal said.

At once, they broke apart. They made easier targets staying close together. Telal sprinted across the hall to the whizzing of arrows flying past him. He didn't have time to stop, didn’t' have time to see where the arrows came from. Telal careened into the hall and made a sharp right. A spiral staircase built behind a door led to the balustrade up top. Palming his sword and a dagger, he took the steps three at a time. At the top, a guard waited for him, weapon draw. Telal blocked the demon's swipe and sunk his knife into the demon's forearm.

The demon screamed and the blade dropped to the ground, clattering loudly, hilt to tip, down the stairs. He impaled his sword through the demon's gut then moved on to the next. He moved like a machine, blocking, dodging, banging his opponents’ arrows and swords away with a swift slice of his, with a hard kick to the chest. His body was in tune, muscles and joints working in perfect unison to bring the maximum power to his blows, the fastest speeds to his thrusts.

Telal stood over the balustrade, the blood of four demons covering his sword and his hands and saw demon guards pour into the room from either side. They looked like a stream of ants hurrying along. Telal let out a battle roar and his powers flared around him like a puff of smoke.

He jumped onto the balustrade then jumped down to the floor, letting his knees bend to take the brunt of the force. Demons charged, throwing poisoned daggers but his eyes were sharp this time, passion, anger, and even love, backing his movements. Tyrian and Kearnyn engaged in a sword fight with the demons and Telal joined them, slicing and hacking his way through, making his way to them.

The room filled with demons, easily outnumbering them, but they stayed faster, sharper and soon the floor was littered with dead demons.

With half a dozen demons left, Telal engaged with two at once, deflected a demon's sword with his own then burying the hilt of his dagger into the other demon's neck. The demon fell to the ground but at the last second reached forward and latched onto his wrist pulling him with him. Telal fell forward and the other demon took the opportunity and slashed at him. The blade made contact, piercing his thigh and nearly sliding through. The hot burst of pain was instant. Telal gripped his sword in a two-handed fist and thrust up, spearing the demon's stomach.

Telal stood and pulled his sword out of the demon’s belly, pressing his foot on the demon's chest for leverage.

A cold energy settled over the air, freezing it until Telal’s breaths came in white clouds. He knew what had caused it even before he turned and met his brother's glare.

Kearnyn tightened his grip on his axe and let a throwing dagger fly. Alrik raised a hand and the dagger veered off to the side, impaling the wall.