Page 18

CHAPTER 18

JASSYN

F leeing the suffocating tension of the war room, Jassyn pursued Vesryn through the portal. The meeting had gone more smoothly than he’d expected, but remaining in Lykor’s presence felt as reckless as braving a storm of knives, each glare poised to cut him down.

The rift spat Jassyn into chaos.

The ground bucked beneath his boots, nearly pitching him back into the portal before it vanished. A hurricane of Essence whipped through the air and drowned all thought. Jassyn slammed a shield around himself, uncertain if the prince was venting his frustration in another magical tantrum or—

The answer roared through the dracovae stables, where the barn had become the heart of a battlefield.

Screams and weapons clashing hammered Jassyn’s senses, the onslaught already raging. Freed from their stalls, dracovae screeched, talons shredding through soldiers. Scaled tails cracked like whips, scattering bodies as the beasts fought alongside the rangers.

Twenty paces ahead, Vesryn was a tempest. His glaives carved in arcs of steel and shadow, obliterating any who approached.

Recognition struck like a blow. Jassyn froze, horror immobilizing him. The attackers wore gleaming white plate—Kyansari’s warriors, dispatched to crush the prince’s rangers. And judging by their glazed expressions, they were all compelled.

Vesryn’s voice rose above the cacophony as he bellowed orders to Flight Captain Zaeryn and the officers to retreat. With a sweeping thrust of his glaive, the prince ripped open a new portal beside him, its dark expanse wide enough to swallow a dracovae.

Rangers and former Centarya initiates—now wraith—formed a fragile bulwark around the rift, holding back the overwhelming tide of Kyansari’s soldiers. But their efforts to usher the beasts through only drew more attention, the prince now the eye of the storm as the soldiers targeted the portal.

Shadows erupted from the tips of Vesryn’s weapons. The darkness writhed and coiled, ensnaring an encroaching warrior.

They’re compelled , Jassyn frantically sent through the bond.

A violent slash of rending streaked down the corridor, shredding the prince’s magic. Freed from Vesryn’s shadows, the soldier staggered forward with a wordless cry, her sword glinting as she wildly charged.

Vesryn’s face twisted with wrath as he spun, his glaive severing her head in a single, sweeping stroke.

Jassyn’s stomach lurched as a spray of blood arced through the air, the soldier’s lifeless body collapsing in a twitching heap on the dusty ground.

A little help then? Vesryn snarled, throwing himself out of the path of a rampaging dracovae. Showing mercy is a death sentence for us.

Jassyn’s eyes darted around the fray. He didn’t have time to unravel the coercion gripping scores of warriors. But there had to be a way to avoid killing them, to override the commands driving their actions and—

A concussive blast bludgeoned Jassyn’s shield. He staggered, thoughts rattled loose as the burst of Essence shuddered the air. Searching for the source, he tracked the concentrated surge of power to the opposite end of the barn.

Before he even registered the motion, a gold-plated knife was in his trembling fist.

Elashor.

Of course the general was here.

A dark regret burned through him. He shouldn’t have stopped Vesryn from ending Elashor’s life when they’d fled Centarya.

The general exuded an unnerving calm, even as Zaeryn led a squad of rangers straight to him, likely to divert attention from Vesryn and the retreating forces. Striking out ruthlessly, Elashor’s longsword flashed with lethal precision as Essence raged around him. Multiple rifts loomed nearby, spilling an unceasing tide of reinforcements into the barn.

Jassyn’s thoughts raced. Could Elashor truly control so many minds at once, or were the soldiers individually operating under a command to kill? Either way, taking the general down—disrupting his influence and closing his portals—would be the only way to end this senseless slaughter.

Time ground to a halt. Dread cinched its noose around Jassyn’s throat as Elashor moved with terrifying speed, punching out a blast of force. Zaeryn stumbled as his sword swung toward her middle. Too fast to stop.

The blade struck with devastating impact, cleaving through armor and flesh. Blood sprayed as Zaeryn crumpled.

Jassyn’s hesitation shattered, pulse rapidly firing into a thundering roar. He didn’t have time to second-guess—he knew what had to be done.

The corridor stretched impossibly long, teeming with skirmishes he couldn’t afford—and wasn’t equipped—to join. Each clash of steel and surge of magic felt like it widened the chasm between him and the general.

His gaze snapped to Vesryn. He needed a portal. Now.

Jassyn reached through their bond, sinking into Vesryn’s side of their Well. The prince’s focus blazed like a beacon, his magic a maelstrom barely contained.

Jassyn plunged into the depths of Vesryn’s power, sparking the prince’s portaling talent. He fumbled with the unfamiliar ability as he tried to ignite the skill. His control wouldn’t be perfect—the prince had only shown him the basics—but it had to be enough.

With a violent twist of Essence, Jassyn ripped open the space before him. The air wavered, twisting into a void, its other end unfurling behind Elashor, where Zaeryn had fallen. Tightening his grip on his knife, he took a steadying breath and stepped through the veil.

Jassyn dropped beside the flight captain, his shield flaring to encircle her. Blood gushed from her abdomen, darkening the dirt. Each of her breaths was a shallow hiss, teeth locked in a grimace as her trembling fingers clutched at the gaping wound.

Around them, blades clashed, dracovae screeched, and Essence crackled through the air, tearing the barn apart.

Zaeryn’s eyes fluttered, voice a rasp, silver hair stained with blood. “Save your—”

But Jassyn tuned out whatever selfless plea she was wasting her breath on. The rangers couldn’t afford to lose her and he refused to let Elashor claim another life.

He spared a glance at the general and the surrounding soldiers. A force of destruction that rivaled the prince, Elashor was effortlessly cutting down the remaining rangers confronting him. Jassyn had only moments before that wrath turned toward him.

Ruby light poured from his palms as he swept a desperate blanket of mending over Zaeryn’s middle, driving the lattice of magic against her ravaged flesh. Precision didn’t matter—only surviving the frenzy of battle.

Without pausing to think, Jassyn cast a wave of telepathy toward her, dulling the bite of her pain. The idea had kindled from Fenn’s venom—he suspected Essence could distort the mind in a similar way.

A sudden blast of force tore through a stall door, sending a hailstorm of splinters crashing against his shield. But Jassyn didn’t flinch, his focus riveted on threading the delicate, dangerous magic.

Zaeryn’s breath caught, a startled sound slipping free as his coercion locked into place. Her grey eyes flew to his, glassy with confusion and shock.

“Can you crawl through the portal back to the prince?” Jassyn asked, setting a hand on her shoulder. A dracovae thundered past, its talons pounding the ground, the vibrations jarring his teeth. “I’ve only patched your wounds. We need to get you to Thalaesyn.” He hesitated, but Zaeryn deserved the truth. “I’ve also blocked the pain temporarily—I can’t say how long the magic will hold.”

The flight captain’s gaze lingered on her fallen warriors, regret creasing her brows. With a shaky nod and a hoarse whisper of thanks, she grabbed her glaives. Jassyn slipped his arm through hers, helping her through the rift.

Once Zaeryn disappeared, Jassyn pushed to his feet and dissolved the portal. His focus narrowed on Elashor.

It was past time for the general to answer for his crimes—against Serenna, against him, against countless others whose lives he’d helped destroy. Images of Lykor in the prison seared through Jassyn’s thoughts. Elashor lurking in the shadows. Watching. Learning. Reveling in the king’s torment.

The last time he’d burrowed into the general’s head, he’d glimpsed fragments of the king’s plans—priceless knowledge.

Jassyn’s determination crystallized, sharpening to a lethal point. Elashor wasn’t just the enemy—he was the key to answers they couldn’t afford to lose. Jassyn would tear through his defenses, butcher his mind, drag every shadowed secret into the light.

With his intent honed to a deadly spear, Jassyn’s hands flew out, hurling every ounce of his telepathic strength at the general.

But his mind slammed into a wall, a fortress of stone. Elashor’s glacial eyes snapped to his, the icy glare chilling him to the bone.

Jassyn gritted his teeth as he battered against Elashor’s impenetrable mental barricade. This wasn’t going to be as simple as slipping past Lykor’s shattered defenses.

The general sneered as he punched out his fist, a slash of shadows pulverizing the final ranger in front of him. Blood dripped from his blade as he stalked forward, bones and entrails slapping to the ground around him.

Fear mauled Jassyn’s chest, but he shoved it away and reinforced his shield. His grip tightened around his dagger, the hilt slick with sweat as he frantically searched for a crack in Elashor’s ironclad defenses.

He couldn’t match the general’s strength. Not without the power of the earth.

The stables offered few elements to draw on—just faint wisps of surrounding air, a far cry from the torrent of lightning he’d wielded when he’d faced Elashor at Centarya.

Wait.

Jassyn’s attention darted to the threads of wind, then back to Elashor, a predator closing in.

It couldn’t be that simple…

With a sharp, decisive yank, Jassyn wrenched the currents around the general, stripping the air from his lungs.

Elashor’s eyes bulged, his sword clattering to the ground. Essence flailed erratically around him as he clawed desperately at his throat.

Seizing the opening, Jassyn abandoned his shield and lunged, plunging his golden knife deep into Elashor’s shoulder. The blade punched through a gap in the plates of armor, sinking to the hilt with a jarring resistance. Elashor staggered back as his magic winked out, still gasping for air.

His portals snapped shut, cutting off the influx of soldiers. Jassyn tensed as the remaining troops surged past them, but they were clearly focused on annihilating the prince’s forces. Ironically, Elashor’s plight went unnoticed as they left the general to fend for himself.

With Elashor disarmed and struggling for breath, Jassyn struck again. Essence rippled like a shimmer of heat, coiling with menace as he twined a strand of telepathy across his fingertips, morphing it into something sharper. Darker. He slammed into Elashor’s skull, demolishing his barricade.

Power surged through Jassyn as he seized control over Elashor’s limbs, driving the general’s knees into the packed earth.

Catching his breath, Jassyn’s hands trembled, buzzing with the wild energy of victory. The crashes and clangs of battle faded to the edges of his awareness. For now, it was just him and Elashor.

The general’s face had turned a mottled shade of blue. Pursing his lips, Jassyn briefly considered letting him suffocate. He deserved no less—deserved far worse. But a trove of knowledge was locked inside his mind and Jassyn intended to claim it first.

With a flick of his hand, he released the surrounding air.

Elashor hacked violently, swearing between ragged gasps.

“You’re going to surrender every buried secret,” Jassyn snarled, his voice unrecognizable.

A thrill bolted through him at the thought of unraveling the general’s mind thread by thread. At last, he was the one pulling the strings. No longer a pawn in the realm’s machinations, no longer shackled by its control.

“And no interruptions this time,” Jassyn added, weaving a crystalline shield around them as he recalled how the prince had intervened before.

Elashor’s chest heaved as he dragged air back into his lungs, his face twisting with rage. He opened his mouth but Jassyn punched a burst of wind down his throat before he could speak, a liberating rush taking flight as the general gagged on his words.

Wasting no more time, Jassyn channeled coercion, worming into Elashor’s skull, burrowing deep into his brain.

The general fought back despite the tether, not needing magic to raise twisting barricades like iron and stone—each path a maze concealing the truths Jassyn sought.

But he pushed harder. Reaching forward, Jassyn dug his fingers into the sides of Elashor’s head, the physical contact breaking through a layer of resistance, his magic plunging deeper.

Blood trickled from the general’s shoulder, streaking crimson down his armor. An unwelcome shadow of doubt flickered through Jassyn’s resolve. He could almost hear Lykor’s scorn, see the silent judgment in his eyes as he compared him to the king. The memory of that incinerating stare—so full of hate—haunted him.

But this wasn’t the same.

Elashor wasn’t a victim. He was a monster—a wielder of cruelty and destruction. Jassyn would demand retribution for every life he’d claimed, every soul he’d shattered. The stakes were too high for second-guessing, too dire for guilt.

Jassyn shoved his reservations into the darkest corners of his mind. Vesryn was right—mercy had no place here.

His magic shredded Elashor’s dwindling defenses, the remaining foundation crumbling under his assault.

Show me everything, he demanded.

Time stretched between Jassyn’s heartbeats as he delved into the depths of Elashor’s mind, threading through the labyrinth of his thoughts. Rounding the first corner, the echo of a conversation with King Galaeryn drew him to halt.

The memory seared itself behind Jassyn’s eyes—the king, cold and commanding, ordering the construction of a harbor on the beaches of the southern realm—Serenna’s mortal home.

The vision shifted, dragging Jassyn deeper. He witnessed Queen Arianna of Vaelyn—Serenna’s mother—under Elashor’s control, her expression vacant as the general spun threads of coercion into her mind.

How long ago was this? Jassyn pressed, grasping for clarity amidst the deluge of revelations.

He sensed Elashor’s resistance rising, but the answer spilled out regardless. Decades of poisoning the mortals’ minds, but centuries of forging secrets in the shadows.

Serenna’s human bloodline, chosen for its ties to the ancient shamans. Queen Arianna, compelled to bear Elashor’s offspring, commanded to drain resources from her kingdom, funneling precious goods to Alari. A harbor commissioned mere weeks ago.

A foreboding dread soured Jassyn’s stomach but he rammed into Elashor’s mind, forcing him to yield everything. What is Galaeryn planning?

A storm twisted in Elashor’s thoughts, the wrath of the Maelstrom, churning in the Cerulean Sea. Tendrils of the king’s ambitions unraveled before him, exposing their schemes—Galaeryn’s intent to use shamans to subdue the magical storm and sail to distant shores.

Jassyn’s question surged forward. Why does he want to cross the sea?

Baring his teeth, Elashor fought against him, trying to shield their secrets. But the dam broke, his memories crashing through Jassyn’s mind in an unstoppable tide.

That dormant magic will be ours, Galaeryn had told Elashor. The Aelfyn demand it.

Thoughts spiraling, Jassyn reeled, struggling to process the flood of information. The Aelfyn? The very notion defied reason—the elves’ ancestors had been extinct for millennia.

Show me how that’s possible, Jassyn ordered.

Through Elashor’s eyes, the past unfolded—the general had bound himself to the king’s cause, his hunger for power insatiable. He’d fed on Galaeryn’s aspirations, their shared pursuit of supremacy a dark alliance.

Yet Elashor had watched and waited as Galaeryn siphoned Essence over the years. The compounded magic had reshaped the king, augmenting his talents, warping his very being.

Jade eyes had morphed to molten silver, a transformation Galaeryn believed aligned him with their revered ancestors. It was then that he began claiming the Aelfyn spoke to him—distant whispers carried on starlight, urging him to harvest the world’s slumbering power.

Their ancient ancestors had failed before, their strength matched by the dragons, guardians of the earth. The Aelfyn had all but destroyed themselves in the process, leaving the skies stripped of winged protectors in a bitter act of vengeance.

Jassyn flinched as a hand clamped onto his shoulder, wrenching him free from Elashor’s mind.

“Stop,” Vesryn commanded, dragging him away from the general.

Stumbling, Jassyn blinked rapidly. His vision blurred, the past and present colliding. Regaining his balance, he shoved Vesryn off.

“I’m not finished yet,” he snapped, swiping irritably at an itch beneath his nose. Blood smeared his hand, jolting him back to the barn. His body trembled, sweat plastering his curls to his face, each breath a gasp like he was drowning on air.

The stables sharpened around him. They were alone. Vesryn’s portal had vanished, leaving only the aftermath of destruction. Scores of Kyansari’s soldiers writhed in shadows, restrained by the prince’s magic. The rest—dead or dying—were scattered across the blood-soaked floor.

Jassyn stumbled back from the general, pinching the bridge of his bleeding nose. Dismay hollowed his chest, fear of what he’d uncovered pooling within. If Galaeryn believed he could speak to the Aelfyn, then this was far worse than they had feared. The overload of Essence hadn’t just made the king powerful—it must’ve driven him mad.

“We’ll take him with us,” Vesryn muttered, sheathing his glaives on his spine. “We need to get back to the fortress. Something’s wrong. I sensed Serenna—”

A deep thrum of magic pulsed through the barn, a soundless drumbeat. The vibration rattled Jassyn’s teeth, setting every nerve alight. His heart raced as he turned toward the source.

A portal ripped through the corridor, slicing one of Kyansari’s soldiers in half. The warrior didn’t have time to scream as their body split, the severed halves falling away like a log cleaved by an axe.

Vesryn tensed beside him. The hairs on the back of Jassyn’s neck prickled as Elashor started chuckling, an ocean of power surging through the rift.

The first thing Jassyn saw was a polished leather boot, its toe glinting with a wicked crystal spike glowing with trapped Essence. His lungs stopped working as the figure fully emerged, the prince’s panic slamming into him.

Galaeryn. The king.

Silver hair shimmered with the luster of starlight, his skin pale and luminous as moonlit snow. His features were cruelly elegant, sharp in their symmetry, unsettling in their perfection—and disturbingly timeless. He looked impossibly youthful—younger than Vesryn—yet there was an eerie depth to him, the kind of ancient knowing that didn’t belong in a face so unlined. Even his robes radiated brilliance, the jewels encircling his fingers and studded into his ears humming with Essence.

Jassyn’s hearing dulled to a distant buzz as the king’s silver eyes swept over the stables, landing with chilling precision on Elashor, still kneeling in the dirt.

Jassyn frantically sent a thought to Vesryn. The king must’ve realized—

The world ignited. A blinding conflagration erupted from the king, flooding the barn with the brilliance of a thousand bursting stars.

Vesryn seized Jassyn’s arm, throwing a shield around them.

Time slowed as Essence burned through the prince’s ward, an otherworldly flame that wasn’t quite fire searing through the threads.

Incapacitated by terror, Jassyn’s thoughts spun, grasping for understanding. Illumination didn’t have that kind of power. It couldn’t—

Vesryn rammed into him. They tumbled toward the ground but the impact never came. Jassyn pitched forward, weightless as he plunged into nothingness.