Hellion's Reckoning

He needed to see something, that’s what Ashryn had woken him up to say the next day. Inias was still sore from his fight with Keira but felt he could ride. If it were anyone but Ashryn he would have thrown the pillow at them. Groaning, he rubbed his eyes and nodded. “Get the steeds ready,” he said and slid from bed as she left and began running through his usual hygiene rituals. Inias wrote up a note and left it on the patio letting Keira know he had some important business to attend to.

When he and Styx stepped out of the cozy cottage, the golden rays of the morning sun enveloped his skin like a soft embrace. He donned a sleek, sleeveless cloak in deep black that contrasted starkly against his pristine white cotton shirt. The cloak gracefully cascaded down his frame, reaching just below his calves where his fitted black trousers met. As Ashryn turned to meet his gaze, she was adorned in a striking red leather vest layered over a billowy blue cotton top, the fabric cascading gently over her lean figure. Her vibrant red pants hugged her legs snugly, each pocket carefully concealing a blade.

Inias approached Fievel, placing a kiss upon his neck. The Elk seemed to purr as Inias mounted his back, Styx jumping up to sit on his lap. He adjusted the reins and Fievel began to move, his hooves hitting the ground at a rhythmic pace. Ashryn rode beside him upon her red mare. Her sharp eyes scanned their surroundings with precision.

As they rode through the lush forest, Inias couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that had settled in the pit of his stomach. Ashryn was rarely one to disturb his sleep for something trivial. He glanced over at her, noting the determined set of her jaw and the focused intensity in her eyes. “Where are we headed?” he finally asked, breaking the silence between them.

Ashryn turned towards him, a small furrow appearing between her brows. “To the edge of the forest,” she replied cryptically. “There’s something I need you to see.” The lush greenery seemed to close in around them, creating a sense of isolation that only heightened Inias’s unease. He stole glances at Ashryn, trying to discern any clues from her demeanor, but her expression remained unreadable.

After a while, they reached the edge where the trees thinned out, giving way to a clearing that overlooked a vast expanse of rolling hills bathed in the sunlight. Far beyond the hills were the great walls of Dusk Haven stretching high. Ashryn brought her mare to a halt, and Inias followed suit. They dismounted, their steeds grazing peacefully nearby as they stood side by side.

Inias couldn’t help but admire the breathtaking view before them. He turned to Ashryn, searching her face for any hint of what she wanted him to see. “What is it, Ashryn?” he asked softly, a mixture of curiosity and concern creeping into his voice. She took a deep breath, her gaze fixed on the distant horizon, before finally pointing to the fields outside the city. It was dangerous to bring him here, to let him see while the magistrate had his claws in her.

“They’re just farms,” Inias said with a shrug. He watched the figures toiling away and caught the hint of horns on their heads and collars around their necks. “Hellions…” He whispered. Ashryn nodded, resting a hand upon his shoulder. “This is their intention,” She said, her voice soft, “Turn the people against them, makes them easy to exploit.” He needed to see it and she needed him to avenge her family.

Inias shook his head when he saw it all, hundreds of them toiling away as overseers whipped their backs. Of course it was easy to demonize them to the world. What did the good pureblooded fae care for the fates of hellions poisoning their world. “This is the world my uncle dreams of? This is his golden age?” He said leaning against Fievel and brushing Styx’s fur.

“People like the magistrate and his ilk use your uncle’s vision to justify it all,” Ashryn said, looking out over the fields, “The only golden age to them is the most profitable.” This was the purist’s true face, hiding behind ancient myths and golden age promises to build their own power. Changing his uncle wasn’t enough, it wouldn’t stop the powers surrounding him. They would continue to dig their fingers in, preying on his hatred. Their roots had grown too deep in the kingdom.

He spat on the ground and turned away throwing his fist against one of the towering trees. Leaves shook and fell around them while Inias took long deep breaths. “I was naïve,” Inias muttered, turning back to throw his leg over Fievel. All those years and he’d never cared to see it.

“You wanted to see the good in him,” Ashryn said as she mounted her mare, “So did your father and my…” Grandmother. She fought the lump rising in her throat, “Whatever good remains, if any, it’s not enough.”

Clutching the reins tightly, Inias spurred Fievel forward, his gaze fixed on the distant walls of Dusk Haven. The city loomed like a dark shadow against the horizon, a stark reminder of the corruption festering within its walls. They turned away and went back into the forest. Tomorrow they would see the Magistrate and finally get an answer for all he’d done. There was still a glimmer of hope that his uncle would rebuke the man, demand justice for loss of innocent life.

Looking out towards the fields at their people forced into servitude, that hope was beginning to fade.