Page 4 of Brutal Fae King
The other fae turn and leave our house—the large one starts stalking toward me.
“Get away from us!”I shout.
I thrust my palm forward again. Another bolt of lightning crashes out, and the dark fae holds up their own hand, and I see the air ripple in front of them. My magic bounces off the outstretched palm, crashing into the wall.
But that last one took everything out of me; my vision suddenly blacks out for a moment, and I fall. My knees crash against the floor.
“Ebelor!” Maribelle wheezes.
My vision comes back a touch, wavering like I’m seeing the world through rippling water. The dark fae gives out a loud, dark chuckle.
“You cannot control your power?” they chortle. “Well, that makes things easier.”
They keep striding toward me, but my vision is blacking out.
“Ebelor!” Maribelle says again.
“It’s… fine…” I murmur. “Things will… be fine… Mari…”
Then my vision blacks out, and I fall forward. I’m gone before I hit the ground.
Chapter 2 - Vicmar
“Sire,” one war counselor says to me. “The defenses at Murbyn Bridge are beginning to fail.”
A simple sentence with alotof connotations.
I take a moment to absorb it, scanning my eyes over a map of the Faevea Dynasty, dotted with little wooden figures representing our forces. Many of our forces still continue to stay in Eyston, surrounding my castle, but just outside of the castle town is Murbyn Bridge. All roads and paths toward the royal city go through Murbyn Bridge—if it falls to our enemies, the consequences are clear.
I scan my eyes around the war room as I think. Its dull red and gold color scheme shines low in the candles flickering in the chandelier. The fire roars, sending out its fierce orange glow into the room. The table upon which the map and other paraphernalia lie is golden oak, polished to a mirror shine. None of my officials lay any hands on it, perched on the edge of their matching seats like pussycats. In fact, they act like kittens as well—skittish, eyes darting around. If my gaze lays upon them, they squirm in discomfort.
These? These are supposed to be my military leads?
Pathetic.
I shuffle forward and look over the map again.
“The Naga have claimed some Northern areas in Murbyn Bridge. Our forces have successfully halted their invasion around the canal; however, we suspect our defenses will fail if they continue their attack at the same rate,” the war chief continues. “The dwarves seem to have pulled back, but it may be a feint. The sirens have joined as well, but they only seem to actopportunistically, claiming no man’s land as their own territory. They haven’t been a problem as yet, but we are keeping them under observation. What shall we do, Sire? Do we send some of our forces in Eyston to support our soldiers in Murbyn Bridge?”
I look down at the map. Of course they would suggest that.
I am so very disappointed in my war council. Somehow, they have become cowards in my presence.
I jab a finger onto the map, onto Cesscaim Island.
“I do not want one single soldier taken from Eyston Keep,” I growl. “Not one. We send all remaining forces to Cesscaim Island.”
There’s a murmuring of confusion among the idiots I unfortunately call my council.
“Why, Sire?” one asks.
“Because the sirens are an enemy unlike any other,” I explain. “With their aerial abilities, they can avoid many of our more powerful magical attacks, and they will likely take the opportunity to attack us whilst we tackle our other enemies. We attack Cesscaim Island—they will return to protect their home.”
Again, there is more worried murmuring by the council.
“An… unprompted attack on Cesscaim Island?” one says loudly—unlikely to me.
“It is not unprompted,” I answer. “They have joined the fray by claiming territory in Murbyn Bridge.”
