Hey guys! Me again! Follow the previous posts (and/or read the story from the beginning) using this label if you’re interested :)
Darius says something, but I can’t hear him. I can’t see anything except for Faye. I can’t think straight, but my feet propel me forward.
She’s dead. The words are on repeat in my head and a sob escapes me. I press another one down as I near the metal bars.
“Dove?” Darius steps in front of me, blocking my path with his huge frame and shakes me, concern etched across his face. I blink up at him. “Are you okay?”
I feel like screaming at him. And hitting him. Faye isn’t moving. Faye is probably gone and I did nothing. And he’s asking if I’m okay? Bile rises up in me, and then I hear her.
“What’s wrong with her?” A voice asks. Faye. But Faye was…. dead. I sidestep Darius and my mouth drops open. Faye’s standing, her hands wrapped around the bars that cage her in. Her light brown hair stuck to her forehead, but oher than that she looked fine.
My brain is spinning. I can’t think straight and a dull throb was making its way through my head. I do my best to squash everything down and focus my attention on Darius and Faye.
“- you guys have to go, right now. Something’s wrong with the castle. With the King. Their eyes…” Faye was saying, but something behind me had her attention now.
A deep, throaty chuckle slices acoss the dungeon. I turn around slowly, a sick feeling making its way through me. A man the size of a bear stands there. He stands at the entrance, and I do all but breath when I see his eyes.
White. Like the man in the hallway. White. Like when you’re possessed. My eyes must’ve been white too, a small part of me thinks. The rest of me is pressing against Darius. Fear courses through me.
“Missed me?” A voice slithers across the room. The Arlons. “Fools. The both of you. We can see through those disguises.”
Darius curses and shoves me behind him. He unsheathes the twin katanas strapped to his back. And I yank my sword out of my scabbard. That’s another difference between us, he’s graceful and quiet and I’m the definition of clumsy.
The Arlon snickers and the man’s eyes flicker before closing. A dark figure materializes beside the man as he crumbles. The Arlon’s weapon is mesmerizing. Its blade is silver, rimmed with a misty black. There’s no handle – the blade cuts into the creature’s palm.
And now I have once more reason to despise the Keeper. We’ve only been taught how to attack other humans. Never had we learned how to kill an Arlon.