Hellion's Reckoning

Inias stood on the deck, perched precariously over the cliff, the wind whipping through his hair as he gazed out over the vast expanse. After traversing his camp, he discovered it half-hidden amidst the towering trees flanking the ancient cottage. Gripping his diamond-edged sword and a dagger borrowed from Keira, he embarked on the intricate dance once more. Each movement required precision, every step an odd angle that had to be executed flawlessly. The dance demanded mastery, using the sword for defense and the dagger for offense, a deadly symphony in motion.

Since his childhood, Inias underwent training in various sword dances to familiarize himself with the blade. Like his tutors as a boy, Keira meticulously pointed out his missteps, even throwing a knife dangerously close to his foot to correct his stance. Beads of sweat shimmered on his skin, highlighting the two scars that marred his chest and the one etched into his back—an ominous reminder of a past confrontation with a redcap in these very woods. Unlike the burly fae warriors, Inias possessed a lean frame, yet he could feel Keira’s gaze lingering on him as he twirled through the intricate motions.

“How is this dance helpful?” Inias asked when he finally came to a stop. “You missed three steps.” Keira said. He growled and flared his eyes at her. “To answer your question, the devil’s dance awakens the demon within.” she explained, pushing herself off the fence to meet him. “It’s cursed.”

“A cursed dance?” Inias asked, watching as she demonstrated the first step. With two daggers in hand, one was pointed outward towards an invisible enemy, the other remained at her chest. The daggers matched the sudden glow of her eyes, emitting an amethyst aura around them. “With every step,” she spun, as if evading an enemy. The blade flashed and he could almost see it cutting into someone’s throat as she spun around and thrust the other dagger forward.

“It delves deeper. You must press on with every strike.” Her movements flowed across the deck, a symphony of kicks and slashes punctuated by the glinting daggers. Sunlight danced off the blades as she twirled them expertly, her hair whipping around her like a cyclone as Inias watched in awe. The aura surrounding her weapons expanded, her limbs a blur of graceful precision. Approaching the last flourish, all Inias could see was a mesmerizing swirl of sapphire and amethyst, a spectacle of lethal beauty. “It feeds on aggression.” She explained once she came to a stop.

Inias stepped back onto the deck and eyed the row of blades. He set the dagger down and took a slim blade like his sword. “Aggression,” He repeated, pointing the diamond edged sword forward with the other clutched to his chest. Taking a deep breath, he shut his eyes and pictured Sylvis’ smug grin staring at him. He recalled the slaughter at the village, Caelan’s betrayal. A warmth spread over him as if his blood were boiling. “There it is,” Keira said.

He snapped his eyes open to find both swords pulsing with a similar amethyst glow, but darker, with flickers of black. The red in his eyes flared as he spun around the invisible enemy, bringing the sword across its throat and, as he brought his right foot forward, thrust the blade as if shoving it straight through an enemy’s chest. With every strike, he imagined it cutting through Sylvis, the Magistrate, Caelan. They all appeared before him in his mind. The world around him had become a blur, the forest symphony a mere hum in the background.

“Innie!” Keira cried, but he couldn’t hear her voice. He had lost the elegant gracefulness of the form and moved like a beast as he crossed the bridge. His feet carried him south as he moved down the path. His soldiers took notice, rushing to the path to discover what all the commotion was about. They watched as their prince spun his blades blindly in the empty air. A black swirling aura surrounded his blades, casting out tendrils that whipped at trees.

The Magistrate, that’s all he saw before him. He had to pay. Storm the city, tear him to pieces. His eyes shimmered with a blood-colored luster. The footsteps behind him caught his attention, and he lashed out, striking down, only to be caught by two daggers. “Get out of my way!” Inias growled. Keira buckled beneath him, the ground cracking slightly beneath her feet. She drove one straight into his groin, causing him to drop his blades and fall over.

“Innie…” She reached down to brush his shoulder as he gripped his groin, groaning. That rush of power was gone, and only the pain from her kick remained as he groaned, tugging his shoulder away. As the pain subsided, he looked around at the faces of his soldiers. Their expressions were a mix of fear, confusion, and morbid curiosity as he stood. “Training, that’s all.” Inias said, waving them away. A few remained, but finally returned to their duties. “What happened?” he asked in a whisper as he stood at his feet.

Keira leaned in and rested a hand on his shoulder. “You lost control,” she said, pulling him back towards the deck. “I was afraid that might happen.”

“How do you stay in control?” He asked her, setting both swords down so he could take a couple of sips of water. “You need to find your anchor.” She explained, sitting on the fence facing him. “Anchor?” Inias asked, sitting beside her. “The reason you’re fighting. I’m fighting for the hellions, for my father, and for you. I focus on that.”

Inias thought about why he was fighting. “My anchor…what keeps me grounded?” He turned and rested his hand on hers. “I’m fighting for you, too. We’ve held each other together all these years.”

“What about your uncle?” she asked, letting his fingers close around her little hand. “If he won’t condemn the Magistrate’s actions…then I can’t fight for him.” He answered her, as her head came to rest on his shoulder.