Page 89 of Veiled

Everyone was holding their own, Oberon and Remi glowing from the sheer strength of their age and power, tearing down anyone who came close. Zane was fired up from the idea of anyone getting close enough to hurt me, and Ryder’s weapons were damn near indestructible as he cleaved opponents and their weapons in two.

“Hello fake queen,” one of the disappearing fuckers popped up in front of me and I narrowly avoided being beheaded. King came out of nowhere and kicked out, catching the shadow fucker unaware and I slashed upwards cutting through its stomach. I smiled at King and he jumped back into the fray. However, no matter what we did or how much we fought, no matter how much blood coated our hands and body, the counts were increasing, and the battle didn’t seem to be letting up.

I felt, rather than saw, our warriors pressed back. Despite all we did, it was as if an invisible force was feeding us more to fight. In the center of the battle, Alvor stood untouched, smirking, while seeming to be unbothered. But why? It was as if he thought he had this battle already won. There is no way the fake queen would possibly send all her forces here for a battle to take me out so soon. No, no one spends years of planning for a quick destruction. She would want to draw this out, and torture those who oppose her. Torture. A light went off in my head.

I wiped the blood of some ugly looking goblin from my eyes and despite the mental concerns from my mates I moved forward without them and fought my way towards Alvor. I let my magic take control. This fucking asshole was not only in the middle, untouched, but his bitch-ass was literally floating on a fucking pedestal, as if he was fucking king. No. Not happening. I let loose a pulse of magic, and those protecting Alvor boiled and busted. I loved that little trick, even if hot blood wasn’t the most therapeutic of experiences.

“My dear, you can kill everyone around me, but you’ll never get through my shield to get to me. I’m merely here to view your destruction. It's quite entertaining, is it not, to know that after all this time of hiding and practicing, that your little blip of an existence will be nothing in our vast timeline,” He said scathingly. It was like he was talking right in front of me, even though we had a few feet of space. I smiled.

“Wow, and here I thought that you would actually participate. Or are you going to leave everyone else to die and fight your battle for you? Tsk, tsk, what a shame. You are a fucking pussy. You couldn’t even get through the Veil by yourself, old man- you had to have a traitor do it for you. Tell me, Alvor, what did you promise them? Fortune? A spinning wheel?” I laughed as he narrowed his eyes.

“Oh yeah, I did a little research on your imposter queen, except she’s past her time isn't she? The old crone who spins her wheel and works in dark magic, yet is known for her Faerie rule as a ruthless cunt. Interesting really. Except Nicnevin sends a little bitch boy instead of coming to face me herself,” I laughed mockingly as his eyes light up with anger.

“You are wrong, she sent me because I am to be her King, you insolent child. She trusts me to carry out her wishes and win.” He stepped off his pedestal and came closer. Yes, come to me, just a bit more fucker.

“Really, because it seems to me that she sent you off to slaughter. I mean here you are surrounded in a bubble, not even fighting. What King doesn’t fight with his people; what Queen doesn’t for that matter. She’s a punk and so are you.” He growled and brought down the extended shield around him.

“You think you can beat me?” He laughed and I rolled my eyes.He sounded like a b-rated movie.“I’m as old as Kalen, trained just the same. I observed you, and yet you still lack understanding of the basic history of our people. Maybe you should have studied that instead.” Two swords appeared in his hands and he held them out, knees bent. I mimicked his stance. What the fuck is he talking about, history? Was he the fucking Dean of battle? He confused me but I refused to show it. What basic history did I possibly need to know to beat him into a fucking bloody pulp.

“Ahh, you didn’t know did you? Laughable, really; you all so readily accepted Gaia as the goddess of all but never questioned her husband?” He moved faster than I could see and sliced down my arm drawing blood. Blocking out the pain I parried his next blow and used my scythe to draw blood from his neck, except he healed almost immediately. What the fuck?

He pressed his attack, every spin and blow coming at faster intervals as he spoke, “We come from gods; our history is steeped in our connection with them. Uranus also had some consorts; did you know that part?” I studied mythology; I understood the connection of the gods to each other, but I didn’t understand what he was getting at. All I knew was every pulse of magic, every swing of my scythes, ended up absorbed by him as if he was drinking my power. I understood absorbing energy, I would do it often, except despite every hit I got on him, I couldn't absorb anything in return.

He stepped forward and almost cleaved me in two, I spun on the ball of my foot and hooked his ankle making him crash to the ground, before I leaned in and sliced across his stomach, too far to reach his neck. I cursed internally.

“Thanks for the history lesson pops, I know who you are referring to, but what the fuck does that have to do with your bitch ass?” I pressed out, trying to focus on his handwork. He had no pattern, this was simply a determination of who was better, and for the first time I do not think it was me. He stepped forward and sliced across my stomach, and my magic rebelling at the idea of the babies being harmed, pushed back. I leaned to the side and countered his attack by digging my scythe into his back. He swore and stepped back.

“You fool, his consort was Nyx, the daughter of chaos, the mother of sleep, death, fates and even Nemesis. She gave that power to Uranus as well. Your prophecy is a joke, as those who control the gods control the Fates.” He laughed, delivering a blow to my other arm, weakening my hold on my weapons. The only thing keeping me up was my deep connection to the earth itself. I needed him distracted- I needed him to slip up, so he needed to keep talking because at this rate every time he drew blood, he sapped my energy. I had no idea how he was doing that, but holy shit it was effective.

“You can’t control the gods; you are a fucking idiot.” I stepped back, circling him, moving forward and throwing a dagger right into his leg. He pulled it out and laughed. I don’t know what is so fucking funny you little shit.

“Perhaps, perhaps not. Except when you work with the god who hates his wife and all she stands for, we will always have an edge,” He laughed and swung, knocking one of my weapons down. I mentally cursed myself for being shocked. He was working with Uranus. Gods can’t interfere- what the fuck could they possibly have that a god would have use for? Our history may start with the gods, heck it's why the Fae were so strong and pure. We have unique powers and abilities, but we were not gods ourselves.

“Want to know what the best part in all of this is Hudson? That darling husband stole his wife's sword made by her consort, Hephaestus, that draws power from every drop of blood it collects from the enemy of the person wielding the sword.” I cursed, that explains why every hit made me weaker. The god of all weapons?! I mean, seriously. Stealing a fucking throne, stealing a fucking sword, and duping a god into helping them. This bitch is either seriously stupid or ridiculously cunning; my bet is on both, because all those decisions will backfire.

“I can understand you being a good warrior Alvor; you have age and the experience. But I’ll always be better and stronger, because I am blessed by Gaia. I protect my people in battle, and I don't summon a god and have dealings with things way beyond my understanding, just to win a war you are literally prophesied to lose. You stand behind a queen who won't fight herself, sends her errand boy with a god to protect him because she knows he can’t do it himself. The sad part is, you are with her because you hate who you are. You have a mate, yet you reject your sexuality- the one man who was put here to be yours- just for power and because you have been brainwashed by traditions that do not carry on in this century. You are a sham; a disgrace and I’m glad Kalen will have the opportunity to find someone else once I kill you.” I yell angrily as I unsettle the ground beneath him making him lose his footing. As he falls back, I notice he is holding on tighter to one blade more than the other, even though the swords were identical. He finally had a tell, and something told me that was the sword he needed the most. I take advantage of his position, swiping out and cutting his hand off. Blade still clutched in his missing hand, I kicked the hand and sword away from him.

He laughed; I admit not the reaction I was expecting, but the sword started to glow and switched over to his other hand. I cursed. What the fuck was that? You would think that shit is the sword of Gryffindor. I needed that fucking sword away from him. I breathed slowly, I felt my chest tight, and I felt the flutters in my stomach getting weaker. As he stood up, I took note of the battle still raging. Just how many people did this bitch have to sacrifice?! I had no idea, but all of these people couldn’t be here because they believed in her cause.

I suddenly remembered that part of the prophecy noted that I had the ability to save those whose hearts had been frozen over time. I wonder if that meant...I wouldn’t put it past her… from the corner of my eye I saw Alvor advancing, I parried his attack and split my attention realizing that this bitch must have manipulated these people to fight, regardless of their wishes. Fuck my golden heart. I couldn’t let innocent people die because of her selfishness.

I breathed in deep, hoping I was right. As it was, I was too weak to keep fighting but maybe I could save enough people so they could carry on the war without me.Fucking morbid, but what else could I do?The thought saddened me; I mean for fucks sake this was only book one of my story! The prophecy said I would be the rightful Queen; it didn't say for how long, but it said plenty about blood and death. However, it said nothing about me surviving to see it through. If I could sacrifice myself for the greater good, then that part was true; my humanity was my greatest strength.

I just hopeI knew what the fuck I was doing, other than going off magical theory. I collected my thoughts quickly; magic was pure, nature was pure, and it fought to balance itself, no matter what. Therefore, what corrupts nature may destroy aspects of it, but can’t destroy all of it. Eventually it comes back stronger, like a rose and concrete. So, while half of me fought with Alvor, every one of my hits getting two or more from him, my magic pulled from the energies around me; the trees miles away, the rivers across seas. I pulled energy and spoke to the nature around me- I embraced it and I used it as it was intended; to protect, to guide, to grow, and not to be perverted or abused. Knowing my intent, the magic of nature flowed through me, and like a net I extended it across those attacking our soldiers and our lands. I willed it to capture the essence of corruption. I was a fucking faerie catcher.

Except this queen was very fucking powerful, and whatever she used as a spell was beyond anything I could have ever presumed. Nature fought hard to overcome the darkness, but it was being blocked, presumably by Uranus. Stupid interfering asshole. Any time here, Gaia, would be a fucking great time to jump in and smack your bitch ass husband.

Suddenly, there was a flash of light, and the sounds of clashing, as a light and dark force fought in the heavens above us. Well, thanks.

However, with the goddess now fighting, nature was left without its protector. The net started to drain me, and I felt like I couldn't breathe as I fell to my knees. Alvor took advantage of my position and as he went to swing his sword across my neck suddenly Kalen found his way from the battle to my side. My face splattered warm with his blood and I cried out. After what seemed like hours, everything moving slowly. He dropped to his knees and his head separated from his neck. I felt the concern of my mates at my despair, felt them weakening in battle, and I refused to let them die.

I took a deeper breath. My magic spiked so hard at my grief, that the ground shook, the sky slamming her bolts of lightning on the ground. The breeze no longer moved gently, no, she whipped around me, filling me with another song. One where she told me she was understanding my anger, fueling my anger, letting me rage and she raged with me. Her daughter hurt. The sky opened and rain poured, weeping, as the breeze raged, mourning. A soul was now fully unleashed, accepting the loss of the only innocence she had left. I’m tired of this stupid bitch controlling every aspect of my life.

Breathing deep, I poured my energy into the net I was casting, and I sent a pulse of power that knocked Alvor back. The sword flew out of his hand and King caught it. Xena appeared and grabbed the sword and disappeared again.

But the damage was done, my energy, my powers had been sapped by a weapon forged by a god, and there was no way to come back from that without another god to help.

Taking a final look at my mates, I felt grief overwhelm me as I slammed down on our connection, cutting us off. Vaguely, I heard a dark laugh, followed by a boom and then silence.

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