The Crimson King

Chapter 12 | Unwelcome

Yes, my Lord.

Their search was fast, but thorough. Darius's eyes skimmed over the once beautiful palace that had stood majestically in the centre of Elysian, now nothing more than a broken ruin. The great tree that had been embedded with magic, its twisted boughs and limbs once elegantly shaping the arch windows and endless balconies of the structure, now cleaved in half. As though a colossal sword had come crashing down from the heavens to split the palace in two – the wound following its path all the way down, deep into the ground, where Darius was sure not even the roots had been spared.

He huffed out a sigh and pointed his nose towards the towering mountain of Oroden Anar, squinting slightly.

Darius knew only a little about the spirits the Elves worshipped – the ones that resided upon that mountain. He had never gone there himself – even though he had stepped foot in Elysian many times – and neither did he want to.

Darius Greyson was not a man who believed in some form of higher power, although, he did entertain the idea of human Hell once in a while. However, it was amusement, not fear, that found him whenever he thought of it. It was funny to him, that humans thought Hell to be a place that was separate to Earth upon which they lived.

As far as Darius was concerned, they were the same thing.

He was jolted from his uncharacteristically wayward thoughts, as his eyes zoned in a peak on the mountain. He thought, for a moment, that he had seen a trace of movement ... but looking further now ... no. There was nothing.

He went to turn away, his tail swishing behind him, but just then a wind blew down from the mountain, ruffling his fur and bringing that strangely familiar scent, once again to the forefront of his mind.

Suddenly, his thoughts sharpened. He knew where he had smelled that scent before.

Impossible.

Impossible, because that man was supposed to be dead.

He heard the leader of his scouting pack calling him in his mind, but his eyes remained trained on the mountain, straining to pick out any sign of movement. It was useless, short of going there himself, Darius had no way of confirming –

My lord, we have picked up another two, heading towards the Elysian. They don't appear to be shifter.

Not shifter? The thought broke him from his trance.

No, my Lord, I believe one of them is an Air Sprite.

Don't approach them for now, Darius's eyes narrowed as he sent out a message to all of his lycans. Head in the direction of the first group, the two non-shifters are not to be engaged under any circumstance. Await my arrival.

Without further ado, Darius turned his back on the broken palace and led his lycans from Elysian. There was nothing more that they could do here – not without contact from the Elven Queen herself. His attention was better spent hunting down those two 'non-shifters' and interrogating them. If the Air Sprite was who Darius suspected, it was more than likely he would have the answers to his questions.

*

Darius's impatience saw him leaving the others behind for the moment, as he raced through the forest towards the scout pack. His soldiers were used to it – they would continue forward and join together later.

Travelling unhindered, Darius halved their previous travel time, and it took him only a few hours before the presence of his lycans became clear, their bright sparks of consciousness lighting up in his mind like small beacons.