The witches' kingdom - TOG series

Chapter 2 | Dorian

I had never been on a battlefield until that day. I wasn't prepared for this; I wasn't a warrior like many of those surrounding me, but there I was. I didn't feel insecure, and thanks to my powers, I didn't need weapons, only my own magic. I felt only rage and determination. Chaol was by my side, and although I knew his strength could fail at any moment, having him close gave me more security. He was an unbeatable knight, and his fierceness encouraged me to keep going. For us, for all those fighting alongside us, but especially for his brilliant wife and their future child.

I wanted to avoid thinking about it, but I knew she was there too, fighting. I needed to know where she was, to know that she was safe. I had no doubt that she would continue leading the forces of the witches. She was a perfect weapon, and together with Abraxos, they were invincible. But I needed confirmation, I needed to see that she was okay. Just when my willpower was about to fail, and I was going to stop and search for her in the skies, the flash of wyvern wings passed above me, and I recognized the shimmer of her wings sewn with spider silk.

Manon was charging at the Valg with admirable determination. I certainly wouldn't have wanted to be one of her opponents. Seeing her white hair, even for a fraction of a second, braided down her back as she always did when going into battle, somehow calmed my heart. At least, if I died in the battle, I would have seen her one last time. My fury and precision reached a new level, and there was no more hesitation. This had to end.

Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined the scale this war would reach, or that I would survive it. But there I was, trying to recover after destroying Erawan, trying to comprehend the magnitude of everything I had just experienced.

Just as I was trying to come to terms with the new reality before me, I saw her, flying toward me. She landed with Abraxos on the tower where I stood, where we had vanquished the embodiment of evil just minutes ago. When she dismounted her wyvern and stood before me, I wasn't aware of how much I had needed her during these days she had been away. Since I had left. Since I had forced her to tell me what I needed to hear, but she wasn't ready to say. Since I had fled the tent to fulfill my duty.

My whole body trembled when she said, "Hello Princeling." I had missed her so much. She stood before me, covered in wounds and blood, hers and her fighters', her riding clothes torn where she had endured the toughest attacks. I don't think she had slept or eaten anything in days, and the paleness of her skin took my breath away. "Hello Witchling" escaped from me instinctively. 

I waited, unsure of how she would react after the last time we saw each other, and I stood there petrified, not knowing what to do. I could only look up at the sky in search of the others, and then her expression darkened even more. I instantly knew, and the pain I felt couldn't be described. I didn't have time to react as Manon launched herself into my arms, utterly distraught. I couldn't comprehend the magnitude of her grief. I couldn't believe it. The Thirteen were the most lethal group I had ever seen, they were death personified, and I couldn't understand it. I couldn't ask what had happened; I could wait to find out. All I could do was hold her in.