Bare Your Teeth, Wicked Ones

2. Potent Chaos at His Fingertips

Warning: Gore

Nicholas

Power surged within Nicholas. Always. A potent chaos forever his promising mayhem, threatening an infinite destruction. He yearned to give in. To give Power everything she wanted. Shatter bones. Burn forests. Dry the oceans. Hide the sun. Break the world. Make every beating heart beg him not to take tomorrow and all the days after. Power could not be holed up forever, but Nicholas had been taught to temper the beast. Let her out in the necessary moments, then tighten the noose and don't let go or she'd take him, too.

The Dread Peaks sat before him overrun by beasts of another plane. An unholy plane, the humans called it. Nicholas did not believe in such things, in the folly of humans, their foolish morals, and fearful religions. However, he did believe in repaying debts. Calix Fearworn declared war against Faerie decades ago. Nicholas would happily engage.

Lockehold, the Shadowed Disciples' citadel of horror, held more than the path forward. Tonight, he had a job to do, and he couldn't wait to let go.

The fae and mortal armies stood at his back. They took a shared breath when he held out his hand. The eternal flame burning upon his center spread from his fingertips. Fuchsia flames lurched through the sea of monsters and the battle for Lockehold began.

The siege lasted hours. He long lost track of the bugs he crushed, though always relished in their fall. Prey wailed and begged as his nails sunk into their eye sockets or tore out their hearts. Bodies dropped. Limbs shattered. Gore and death always followed power and he couldn't get enough. Those were the hardest times to strangle the power for all he wanted was to unleash.

But as he gazed upon the remnants of his mission, a Shadowed Disciple now barely more than blood and ash at his feet, Nicholas drew a long breath. His power diminished, ceasing the turbulent air and rampant flames that charred the ruined room. The very air sparked with life. Flames flickered in and out of existence. They settled atop his skin, then faded. His eyes opened, the fierce glow of power dimming.

Around him, his kin watched in prepared silence. They clutched daggers and swords, tips pointed at Nicholas for none knew when a Shade would lose themselves entirely. When Power took hold and wouldn't let go, they had to be ready to strike that power down.

"The Generals will be pleased," said Nicholas as he dug through the remnants of the Shadowed Disciples' robes. He cared not for the name of the filth he slaughtered. His mission was about what the disciple carried; a book of weathered pages stitched together by glistening spion silk.

The half dozen fae around him eased the hands from their weapons, now aware that he was himself. Snow filtered in through the collapsed ceiling along the edge of the room. Corpses lay strewn about, crushed by debris or splattered against walls. Their stench carried over the heavy musk of the citadel and warmed Nicholas' chest. He loved the scent of a good slaughtering and the taste of copper on his tongue. The moments after Power unleashed and he felt light as air.

"Our sources were correct. A General of Fearworn's Disciples carrying a book of monsters," Duke said in a trembling breath. The mortal mentor forced upon Nicholas by his father's orders sieged forward. He hesitated to take the book from Nicholas' bloodied hands.

"May I, Sir?" he asked, hands held out. Nicholas dropped the book into his grasp, smirking when Duke flipped through the pages and his expression sank. "What language is this?"

"Not one a dense mortal would know." Nicholas snatched the book. His kin chuckled, often faked in his presence though he basked in the attention, nonetheless. "This is the ancient tongue of High Fae."

Which Fearworn knew, as a High Fae himself and a Shade, same as Nicholas.

The greedy gazes he received during childhood changed when Calix Fearworn lost himself to Power. When he threatened to recreate the Collision that opened gateways between the realms of Faerie and Terra. Calix yearned for a darker power, to unleash monsters from another world and seek all realms that may be after, even if that meant destroying their realms in the process. Though others wanted the power Nicholas had, they also came to fear it. To expect him to fall to Calix' corruption. No doubt he hadn't considered it.