Treyan lived his life bound by duty and honor, believing his future as told by the Prophecy of Fire and Light. Even after he found his Empress, he felt he was doing as he was foretold and in the best interest for the Empire. But when his own brother...
No fever dream would ever erase Mallia's memory, or what had happened to her.
The discovery of Bria's treachery against the Empire was devastating and if Treyan ever got his hands on that Mistress again, he was certain he would kill her.
There was no doubt she was behind Reylor's infiltration of the palace, and more than likely had a hand in Mallia's murder. She betrayed them all, took their son, and stabbed him in the back.
Literally.
Treyan groaned as he tried to move, but the rubble from the collapsed ceiling made that endeavor difficult. He assessed that neither his arms nor his legs suffered any damage, and he quickly shifted to all fours to brace himself against the debris above him.
The agony that emanated from his back as he moved crumpled him back to the ground, causing the plaster to cover him once again and erase his previous efforts. He screamed in pain and wondered if there was anyone left within the palace to hear his cries. Jamison had done well enough with evacuating the palace as best as he could before he had escaped, and Treyan now regretted his efficiency. Following Reylor and the Mistress would be moot – no, he needed to find Alex.
Gritting his teeth, Treyan braced himself for the pain he would endure, but the ends justified the means as he hoisted himself up on his hands and knees. Tears streamed from his eyes as he shouted out his frustrations in his attempt to free himself from the mess. After what felt like an eternity, he was finally able to shove the last bit of debris from his back and collapsed as the exerted energy took its toll on his ravaged body.
Whatever she did to him, it was more than just a sword wound. Assessing his situation, he knew the wound was open, for the very air that touched it singed like fire. That also could have been because the room itself was aflame, evident by the ash and embers landing near his face. Treyan coughed as the smoke invaded his lungs, and each movement felt as though it reopened the cut along his spine.
He was either going to die from smoke inhalation or the untreated injury.
Neither were on his current agenda.
He needed to stand. When he rested just enough to recuperate the energy needed, he gathered his legs underneath him, wrapped his arms around himself for additional support, and hoisted his body the closest he could to a standing position. Treyan cursed himself for the whimper that escaped his lip, but it was the least he could do to keep from collapsing back to the ground where he started.
He slowly dragged himself over the ruins of the library, avoiding smoldering texts and structures before he began his excruciating trek through the palace to find his Empress.
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The door to Alex's room was ajar, but there was nothing but silence within. Treyan whispered a prayer in hopes that the Councillor stayed true to his word and had kept his wife and daughter safe. He pushed the door to open it further, but something behind it stalled its progress. Unable to use his body as he normally would, he crept through the thin opening of the doorway, unable to avoid scratching his back against the door jam, and collapsed to the floor in pain, falling the rest of the way into the room.
Pain clouded his eyes, and he slowly shook his head as a throbbing migraine rose in his temple. This wasn't just a sword wound, he deducted as he blinked his eyes, trying to regain his vision. There was something else at play, but whether it was magic or poison, he could not differentiate.
There was no time to figure it out—not yet, anyway.
From his position on the floor, Treyan could see scattered beams and fallen debris from the high ceiling above. It appeared that the fireplace remained intact, and anything that had fallen was a safe distance away. Much of the debris looked as if it had been pushed aside, as if someone had been stuck underneath. Looking around, he saw nothing that indicated Alex had been trapped, and he thanked the gods for no sign of injury, or worse.
He again attempted to stand, but this time his legs refused to work- the nerve endings throughout his limbs begin to prickle like pins and needles, and Treyan knew it could only be poison coursing through his veins. He needed to get help, and fast, and it wasn't going to happen while he remained there alone.
Crawling from his position on the floor, Treyan worked his way around the rubble towards the fireplace. Once he maneuvered himself safely before the structure, he lay down on the ground one more time, slowly reaching his hand into the pouch at his hip. His fingers wrapped around the cool, round object, and he smiled slightly as he pulled the blue orb out to look it over.
At least his fail-safe was still, well, safe.
The plan had been to give Alex and Sarayna time to escape should the situation become dire. Be that as it was, he needed to bring them back, and in his hand, he held the Key. He'd have to use their dreams to communicate, and it could take longer than usual because of his current weakness, but it would have to do. It was the only way...
The sound of crushed glass behind him made Treyan stop, and his body contorted in pain as he instinctively tried to turn to see who approached behind him. The agony overtook his senses as the Key rolled from his hand, but he was too distracted by the excruciating pain to notice where it fell. His ears rang, his head pounded, his chest ached, and his back felt as though his very spine was being torn from his body.
There was a voice, hoarse and low- someone was in the room with him, but he had doubled-over to regain control of himself and was unable to discern if it was friend or foe. The mumbling continued, but Treyan's ears ceased to work while he lay vulnerable on the floor. It wasn't until he felt the gust of magical power sweep past him that he knew his situation was dire.
Someone had activated his Key.
But it wasn't time - Alex wouldn't be ready.
He moaned as he attempted to correct his posture, but all he could see in the dimness of the room was a figure cloaked in shadow, hovering above him. He tried to speak, but his tongue felt swollen and his throat like parchment paper. His suspicions were confirmed as the stranger stepped upon his open wound, and he screamed as his body remained under the pain's strong influence.
The last thing Treyan remembered was the unceremonious kick his mangled body received as it was forced through the limbo of the Key's portal.
