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“And you, King David, will become what you most desire.”
“I’ll do anything-”
The King’s scream cut off as the rest of him turned to pure gold, and he remained frozen on the ground. Tall and Freckles turned a second later, cracked, and burst into a shower of gold chunks and chips.
The other four men bolted.
Aurelius held onto the rose and chased after them. The slowest one screamed as he turned to look behind him, and Aurelius was on him in a second. His legs turned, and he fell in the dirt. Aurelius snatched his dagger, turned the rest of him, shattered him, and raced through the walled path after the more interesting prey with Mother’s necklace bouncing against his chest.
The men pumped their legs, and one slipped, knocked his buddy down, and sent them both tumbling. The other kept his footing, went around, and ignored them. Every fairy for himself. Aurelius turned the slowest, broke him, gripped the dagger by the blade, aimed, and threw it.
“Elira, please, no.” The one who had gone around fell with the blade sticking from his back and managed to keep from rolling. “I’m begging you!” He reached behind himself and tried to grab the handle of the dagger. Seeing Aurelius drawing nearer, he rolled onto his side and held up his hands. “Wait! I-”
“If I’d begged on the way, would you have granted me mercy? You wouldn’t even slide the fucking bottle over to me.”
Aurelius smashed his boot into the man’s face. The crunch of bone was almost as satisfying as watching his face grow shiny. He didn't watch the man break.
The other two had stood and didn’t seem willing to try and run by Aurelius. It felt good to turn one gold and see the last’s horrified face as he stood among the broken chunks that used to be a fellow living being. A wet spot appeared on his trousers as Aurelius stalked closer.
“Won’t you fight me?”
“Please. I have a son. It was a job, just a job.” He raised a hand as if that would ward off Aurelius. “He told us what we had to do, and we couldn’t say no.”
“Hm.”
“I just want to take care of my family.” The man burst into sobs.
“Why didn't you pick a more honest line of work?”
The man cried harder.
Aurelius held out his hand. “I wouldn’t have asked Jari to kidnap an innocent man, but if I did, I have a feeling he’d have disappeared before he did anything like that. But you’re not Jari. Give me your sword. I might need it.”
The man’s eyes glazed over as he handed his weapon to Aurelius.
“Go bash your head against that wall until you die. I was someone’s son once, and you didn’t give a fuck when you helped stuff me in a cart.”
The man marched over to the wall on the right side of the path, dropped to his knees, and hesitated before he smashed his face against the stonework. Once, twice, three times. Blood stained the grey. His nose broke, and he stopped as his stunned body wavered.
“Maybe just a bit of mercy. You're taking too long.”
The man went limp as the sword entered his back. Aurelius yanked it back out, flicked off the blade, turned and broke him, and opened the door to the main garden.
The flowers and shrubbery grew shiny and still as he passed, and even the dirt gleamed like panned gold in the sunlight overhead. All of the peonies, roses, and colorful plants turned the same color, and they were much prettier now. Aurelius tucked the rose behind his ear as he watched the gilt spread andeat the garden. A butterfly on a plant was frozen. The little thing would never wilt and die now.
One King down, one left to go. Once Aurelius had his fill of Zora, he’d head to Wockston and make that land gold too. Darlim would also become what he wanted.
As he came around to the front of the Castle, the gold spread around him for several feet and stopped as he eyed the gate. A couple of guards chatting by it turned. One’s mouth fell open at all of the gold ground.
They both shouted and ran through the gate. So much for loyalty. They must have thought Aurelius had some sort of foul magic, and they weren't wrong.
The Castle was his now, so he stepped through the unlocked front doors. Maybe he’d turn it all gold, and once he grew bored of that, he’d move on to the city-
A man stood on the stairs. In nearly seven years, grey had begun its takeover of his hair, and he probably hadn’t shaved in a week. The feverish look wasn’t there anymore, but it was still the same face. The same eyes.
All of the confidence drained out of Aurelius as he remembered. The way he’d loomed, his fists, the cajoling, the threats, his breath, and the way he’d cut, desperate to get the power himself.
Part of Aurelius wanted to run or simply curl up and try to shield himself even though that had never protected him before. Nothing and nobody had protected or saved him.
