Page 50 of The Night Prince 3
This is insane! You cannot do this! His logical voice argued. You’re going to get yourself killed!
But what if that book and dagger will allow me to perform magic? He pushed back. What risks am I willing to take for that?
If you’re dead, you cannot perform magic.
If I don’t learn magic then I might as well never leave Tyrael again, he said. Because it’s too dangerous. Even going to Hope is dangerous. And what happens when my friends are in danger and need me?
They’ll want you alive more.
If they’re in danger and I don’t risk this now, I’ll never forgive myself. I’ll remember that cowardice stopped me from being able to rescue them, he thought.
The logical voice had no answer for this, because it was true. He would never be able to look himself in the mirror again if he missed this opportunity. He wanted to become powerful. He wanted to protect himself and others. And magic was the only real way to do that in this brave new world.
Don’t fear death, Finley. Embrace it, his professor’s voice coalesced again for a moment. Embrace it.
Finley pushed his glasses up his nose. He was going to do this. He was going to embrace death and magic and… He reached for the book and dagger at the same time, prepared to snatch them away from the rotting figure and then pivot. He would launch himself towards the lower part of the stairs and haul himself up. Then he would run full out, leap over the chasms and make it to the top.
His fingertips brushed both. There was a cold, electrical snap. He gasped.
The figure’s head lifted and in a voice full of moist rot said, “Not dead yet.”
First Dance
Vex’s eyes were closed when Rahven stepped through the rift. He didn’t open them as he felt the air move and part as Ardreth swung towards his throat. Most people were discombobulated when they walked through a rift whether it was the first time or the thousandth.
But not his Rahven.
Not even after Vex had used his magic to spin each person who entered through the magical portal to a place of his choosing. Or really their choosing. Even if they weren’t consciously aware of wanting to go there. Of needing to go there. Rahven, too, had been brought to the place where he needed to be though he had no idea yet.
Not that it stopped his son from doing what he naturally did: fight. The blade glittered as it sliced through their air. It stopped just short of cutting him. It rested against the skin on his throat. When he swallowed, the blade moved, too.
Clever, capable boy.
“What have you done, King Vex?” Rahven’s voice was low and dangerous.
Vex smiled. His eyes were still closed. Rahven knew that he had separated him from the others even before Aquilan had taken a step through the rift.
Very aware though he is unsure how he knows any of this.
“So formal, Rahven! King Vex indeed!” he chuckled.
The heat of the magma waterfall and river washed over them both then. He could hear the deep rumble of rock melting and flowing. The ground beneath their feet–thick, hard ire–didn’t feel as sturdy as it normally would have as the superheated rock flowed past it, trying to eat it away. The gleaming, purple towers of Illithor could be seen in the far distance. This was the city’s power plant in a way. It was also where the wards had been anchored to keep the Under Dark and Earth forever apart.
“What have you done, King Vex?” Rahven repeated.
Vex opened his eyes to see Rahven for the first time close up. Rahven’s hair was glamoured black and his eyes were glamoured green, though they were hidden behind dark sunglasses so he would have to imagine that green for now. But the rest of him was just as he truly appeared.
Skin pale as moonlight captured. Fine, chiseled features. Lean, but muscular body. Lithe. Perfectly proportioned to fight and likely to love. But only Aquilan would know that. Or he would know that since his son was too romantic to simply push the beautiful Sun Elf against the wall and take him like Aquilan so wanted Rahven to do. But no, his son wanted to be on his knees before Aquilan–and no, not for that–but to read him poetry and worship his beauty with his eyes instead of his hands, mouth and cock. In the future, Rahven might allow himself to touch sun-kissed skin, but not quite yet. It was fascinating really to experience the world through someone so new to it.
Vex, of course, was not seeing that romantic side of Rahven now. His son was the lethal predator that formed the rest of his personality. The base personality some would say. His truth others would insist. But Vex knew that to not see the whole was to miss the person entirely.
“You keep being so formal! I refuse to answer you when you behave like that!” Vex tutted.
“Formal?” Rahven’s voice was like a whisper.
“You know who I am,” Vex said, allowing the blade to stay where it was. “Say who I am, Rahven. You won’t get another word out of out me until you do.”
Black sunglasses obscured those green eyes. But the brows tightening could still be seen as Rahven narrowed his eyes.
