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The Darkbringer & His Morningstar

T he crater smoldered.

The Horned King stared down into the smoking pit, the scent of fear and ruin sending shivers of glory down his spine. Two Gold Masks flanked him, sharing the stupendous moment, eagerly awaiting his instructions.

It had finally happened.

The city been plunged into darkness. The mortals were already in disarray.

Monsters had fallen from the sky, and they were ravenous.

Sirens wailed in the distance. Violent, bloody colors burned on the horizon as dawn ascended. It was the omen of a new era, where they no longer had to hide, or abide by the laws of the split.

Magic, mundane, and monstrous would now all be one .

His horns sizzled, picking up the energy of the two creatures that lay at the bottom of the hole. They’d fallen into the street, into the earth, and when he listened closely, he could only hear one faint heartbeat. Which one, he wondered, had survived the fall?

He pointed his staff into the pit and cast a blast of magic that cleared the smoke.

There they were. Twenty feet down, entangled in each other’s arms.

The Darkbringer and his Morningstar.

“You two played your parts perfectly,” mused the Horned King. “I am eternally grateful.”

His Gold Masks hissed and sneered, desperate for an order.

The Horned King let the moment ruminate, devouring every ounce of his victory. He hadn’t even had to lift a finger. Just as the prophecy had foretold.

Shadowy creatures scuttled up the walls of the buildings that loomed like iron giants around them.

Aries sucked in a breath, savoring the taste of death on his tongue. Then he glared back into the pit, his lip curling slightly in disgust at the pathetic way they held each other. Muted blue and gold flames fizzled out around them, a symbol of their ending.

“Retrieve them,” he ordered finally, and his Gold Masks were elated to obey.

He knew exactly what he was going to do with them.

THE END