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Dillin was his favourite, a beautiful dark-haired man. He’d known him since childhood and had loved him for almost as long. Dillin looked so pale, the life drained from him and he would never forget or forgive. He took his time with the final wrappings of the shroud, taking extra care with the binding of Dillin’s wings, and vowed vengeance on those who had murdered the one man he would die for.

“Master?”

He turned to see Maha, his apprentice, trembling where she stood. “His Majesty requests your presence.”

“His Majesty would be wise to stay as far from me as possible.”

“The guard said they would come for you if you did not obey.”

He lit the pyre and waited for the flames to catch. He had warned the king he was not his to be bought, and it had been Dillin who had kept him calm. But Dillin was gone and all in his path would pay.

“Head home, Maha. Start the lichen potion. I’ll be there once I’m finished.”

She scurried away, a sensible girl. She would only have nightmares if she came with him. The flames consumed Dillin, the blessing herbs filling the air with the rite of eternal sleep.

He whispered his final goodbye and headed to the palace. The grass beneath his feet turned black as he walked, those who passed on the path fell to the ground, his magic seeping from him in waves of malignant intent. The king had wanted him to be his weapon, to use on his enemies, and he had refused. Dillin had kept him from falling into the dark, now Dillin was no longer here, and there was nothing to hold him back.

Sorcerer, mage, mystic—he had been called them all over the years, his elf magic stronger than most, but he had used his gifts, not for good exactly, but not for evil. But today that changed, he had lost Dillin and he would wreak havoc on all.

Bodies lined his progression, and his shields prevented their primitive weapons from leaving even a scratch on them, and the spells their lacklustre magic could summon were useless. His heart turned cold with every step, every dead elf that had aligned themselves with this poor excuse of a king. The stench of the foul idiot who had ordered Dillin’s death led him to his prey, the pitiful maggot of a monarch curled into a corner, and he loomed over him.

“Spare me and I will give you anything you want.”

“You cannot give me what I want.” With a wave of his hand, his skin and muscles began to melt and the king screamed in agony.

He turned on his heel, those who had entered the room dropped to their knees heads bowed. “I am your king now. Send out riders to the other tribes, there is a new ruler, and his name is ? —”

Chris sat bolt upright. The name escaped him as he was pulled from his dreams. So vivid. He was so angry. His love had been taken, and he had sought out the worst acts of revenge.

“Are you all right?”

Disoriented, he turned to see who had spoken. “Dillin?”

“Chris, is there something wrong? Who’s Dillin?”

He shook away his confusion, it was Jack, not Dillin from his dream. “I dreamt of a black-haired man, he’d been killed, so I killed those who did it.”

Jack took his hand and Chris realised he was solid again. “You were seeking vengeance for someone in your dream?”

“Yes, I was about to say my name and then I woke up.”

Jack was staring at the gold cuffs on his arms. “Are they new?”

Chris tugged the sleeves of his top over them; he wasn’t sure why but somehow knew they shouldn’t be on display. “They’ve appeared a few times now. First was when I had the dream about the tree.”

Jack stroked his thumb over the ring. “I’ve seen similar cuffs before. They were elvish, and you are rocking the pointy ears and pretty cheekbones.”

“Are they jewellery of some kind?”

“No, they were being used to block someone’s magic. That’s not to say that’s what these are doing.”

Chris thought Jack might be onto something. “Can you research them? Find out more. It might help.”

He was beginning to fade as Jack reached for his phone and snapped a couple of photos of the cuffs. Chris swooped in for a kiss before it was too late and was hit by a memory of kissing Dillin, a pang of sorrow swept away by the joy of being here with Jack. He withdrew, Jack smiling, and realised he would raise the hall to the ground for Jack. He loved him and would do anything for him, and he needed to find a way they could be together properly.