Page 69 of Of Realms and Chaos

Within hours, every single mortal had been moved to Pike, where they were clothed, fed, and prepared for what life would look like for the foreseeable future. Over a fortnight had passed since then, three full weeks since I shook Queen Shah’s hand and secured our first major ally.

To say the tide had changed would be a lie, but it felt as if we had a chance to come out of this alive now. Though many disagreed, including Henry, the plan was to not fight at all. Despite that, we still searched tirelessly for the creature that was slaughtering mortals in Gandry, the goal being not only to convince it to fight for us, but also to impress the ruler of the kingdom.

Aim for the tree.

Henry’s silent order was followed by him handing me a throwing dagger. I absentmindedly took it, trying to remember to lift my elbow as I released the weapon. It stuck into the tree to the left of the one I was aiming for, and only barely. But disappointment did not fill me, because I was still focused on what was to come.

Shah warned me about King Trint before we left. An arrogant and fairly young king, Trint was prone to manipulation and flirtation. However, he also had a serious problem in the form of a rogue, unknown beast that attacked any who came near.

A win-win.

Or was it win-win-win?

“What could possibly be going on in that head of yours?” Henry’s voice startled me, the silence the three of us had been basking in shattering. Birds flew, screeching as they took to the skies. Wrath groaned, his signature glare flashing the demon’s way. The two had still not warmed up to each other, though I found I very much enjoyed the dalistori’s presence. It was always nice having someone more cynical around. The pragmatism was refreshing.

“You continue to impress me with how well you can ruin a peaceful moment.” One thing I would likely never get used to was the sound of Wrath’s voice. Eerie as ever, it sent chills up my spine. Henry—who refused to admit that he was terrified of the dalistori—did not flinch or balk, instead smiling down at the cat-like creature.

“Seeing as your mere presence makes my head hurt, kitty, I can safely say it is not me destroying the semblance of joy we have found.” Seconds after a smirking Henry spoke, Wrath was growing, the fur on his back standing up and becoming coarse, those horrific fangs lengthening like spears. His paws tripled in size, though he still walked silently through the Vesteer forest. I pushed my hand out, stopping him when he reached my waist.

You are at least hundreds of years older. Just ignore him.

Wrath’s answering hiss was both scary and humorous, though I was not exempt from his ire.

Yes, like you and the mortal princess. What a pity I was not able to witness the showdown that occurred when you found out she bedded the string bean.

Laughs that sounded similar to choking burst out of me, unable to be stifled. It was my first full laugh since we arrived in Vesteer two days ago. The first day we had spent searching the large city of brick, gleaning any information we could from the citizens who were the newest to suffer from the creature’s bloodlust. Only Henry spoke the tongue of Gandry, the throaty and constantly flowing language leaving me to interpret thoughts by feel and sight rather than sound.

Henry’s annoyed face and accusatory squint only made my laughing fit worse, causing me to double over. Through my cackles, I spoke to Wrath aloud.

“As a fellow lover of food-themed insults, ‘string bean’ is quite impressive. Though, I believe he would have to be scrawnier for it to be accurate.” Wrath’s shoulder seemed to lift in a shrug as we continued on, Henry’s grumbles unintelligible on my left.

“I do not know. He seems quite skinny for a creature of his height. I think the dalistori is onto something.”

Simultaneously, the three of us froze mid-step. Gray, green, and yellow eyes all widened, both Henry and Wrath looking to me briefly. The voice had been soft—melodic in its tune. With a nod, we all turned in the direction it had come from.

Standing there, dressed head-to-toe in a vivid shade of pink leather-like clothes, was a female with long black hair that cascaded down her back like a waterfall. Her skin, nearly as dark as Ranbir’s, was practically glowing in its beauty, contrasting wonderfully with the vibrance of her outfit and the blue of her small eyes. She was enchanting.

She was also planning to kill us.

“Hello there. We did not mean to scare you.” Raising my hands, I silently hoped my placating words would prevent a fight, though I was not particularly inclined to believe it would based on her graphic thoughts of ways she could dismember us.

“I am not scared of you, but I do fear that death is imminent. Quite lucky on your part, no? Life is so very dull—an infinite void of grief and sorrow.”

None of us moved, the two males at my sides likely just as perplexed as I was at the creature’s words. She was slightly shorter than me, but her presence was large, as if she took up more space than the average being.

Before anyone could speak again, her form started to fade, morphing into…

“Are those bubbles?” Henry’s question snapped me out of my daze, my head shaking and eyes blinking rapidly. By the time I was once more focused on the creature, she was gone. Now all that existed was a wave of small clear spheres, rainbows of color dancing off the edges when the sun shone upon them. “Not very scary.”

Like the creature, they were lovely. Without thinking, I reached out for the one nearest me. “They are kind of cute.”

But then my skin made contact.

I was on my knees in seconds, shrieks feeling as if they were shredding my throat in the same way the bubbles seemed to tear apart my flesh. One, five, eleven bubbles burned through my body, dissolving it like acid. Henry’s screams soon followed, sending him falling to the pine needles in a heap.

Wrath shrunk in an instant, quickly maneuvering through the floating orbs and ducking at the last minute to avoid a particularly large one that seemed to follow him. When he reached my side, I was panting heavily, watching my leathers disintegrate and my flesh sizzle. The pain was blinding, worse than being burned or whipped or beaten—all things I knew intimately from my time in my low level room back home. For a moment, I thought I might faint, but Wrath pressed his head into my chest, forcing me to remain upright as he spoke.

“You must push through the hurt, Strange One. Pain is your friend, an old companion. It cannot win if you do not let it. Fight her like only you can, or we will all three die here.”

---