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Derikles made no reply other than an affirmative rumble from deep in his chest.
The two of them had walked side by side for centuries. It’d taken Isaiah a hundred years to methodically choose a second in command, and he hadn’t chosen wrong. Though he was Derikles’ sovereign, the other Raeth was one of the only people he would unconditionally call a friend.
Not that he would ever admit to it, nor would he ever presume to believe it was a returned affection. Isaiah knew he was an acquired taste.
When one had walked the earth as long as Isaiah had, arrogance and pride were merely byproducts of the strength that coursed through his veins. There was no humility that defined his character, there was no meekness. Isaiah knew his own mind and every opinion he’d formulated had been honed on solid reasoning.
No one could falsely accuse him of walking a meandering road.
And no one could accuse him of being a sympathetic fool who took pity on his fellow Raeth. Isaiah had chosen his path long ago and never strayed from it. From the moment he’d held his first weapon to the blood-bathed battle against his clan’s previous sovereign, he’d never regretted his decisions.
But occasionally, his mind wandered. To thoughts of what could have been if he had chosen another path, or he’d been born of creation instead of destruction.
Destruction was at his very core, the strength behind the abilities that made him who he was and governed his train of thought. As such, his very nature predisposed him toward a heavier hand, a crueler temperament.
It was why he kept his distance, even from those he trusted. His inherent spirit kept him from many things, not the least of which was companionship.
Isaiah kept his gaze fixed on the town ahead, the dust of the well-worn path kicking up behind them. Dry brush and red clay littered the path they walked, the area both familiar and comforting.
At four hundred Raeths strong, his clan was one of the largest in the world. The Sylth, as they were known, had settled in Utah many moons ago, and Isaiah had claimed the territory as their own. Since then, they’d had skirmishes and minor incursions like the one today, but they were left relatively at peace by any neighboring Raeth clan.
Very few people wanted to challenge the status quo, and Isaiah was seldom deemed a forgiving sovereign. Instead, the other clans gave them a wide berth, and his territory was rarely encroached upon. Already well-established by the time mortals had tainted the land with the sickly smell of humanity, Isaiah had developed long-standing psychic aversion boundaries on the land to ward off human interaction.
Isaiah couldn’t stand the fact that humans lacked basic decency. Their world was one of flaunted wealth and corrupt power, highly unlike the structured society of Raeth clans. He’d do everything in his power to avoid them.
The township’s lights brightened before them like a beacon under the thick blanket of darkness, and the pair of Raeths continued to walk in silence. Echoes of night ebbed through the dry air around them when they entered the outskirts of town. Now, just before the faint tendrils of dawn whispered across the eastern horizon, few would be awake.
Jaeda, of course, was waiting up for them.
An exceptional healer, the female Raeth was a stunning sight in the billowing, ankle-length teal dress that pooled around her calves with the slight breeze. Her pale pink lips quirked into a smile as the duo neared, eventually coming to a halt just below the second-floor balcony on which she stood.
When Isaiah had won the sovereignty of the clan five hundred years ago, Jaeda had been a mentee of the senior healer. After the aged Raeth had sought the light two hundred years later, Isaiah had promoted her to senior healer. Now, Jaeda was one of the most proficient healers in the Raeth world, and more than one sovereign had attempted to change her allegiance.
Leaning forward to get a better look at them, her long blonde braid slipped over her shoulder while she settled her forearms on the railing. “Took care of our little interloper?”
“As always, milady.” Derikles’ playfully saluted the woman before she turned to Isaiah with a coy smirk.
“Any injuries I should be healing?”
Isaiah shot her a look. “You wound me with your lack of confidence, Jaeda.”
“Any recoil?”
“Nothing worth noting.” Isaiah dismissed her concern with a wave of his hand. “Jacob’s expressed interest in meeting; I’ll be there for the next several hours.” He glanced at Derikles. “Inform me if there are any other incursions.”
“Of course, sovereign.” Derikles gave a slight bow of his head in acquiescence.
“What does Jacob want?” Jaeda asked.
A hint of a smile tugged at Isaiah’s lips before he answered. “Hell if I know. I stopped asking centuries ago.”
Chuckling softly, Jaeda rolled her light blue eyes. “Say hello for me.”
“Your wish is my command, Jaeda.”
Isaiah cast her an acknowledging glance and let the colors of the world blur before his eyes. Weightless, his feet hit shifting ground milliseconds later as he finished the teleport.
He stood silently on the sandy shores of North Carolina, breathing in the salty air of the East Coast. Tides crashed against the beach, and overhead, seagulls drifted through the sky. Memories flooded his consciousness, but for the first time, instead of the youthful moments he’d spent here, the waves brought to mind the face of a water Elemental.
