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“What the hell?” Kallos gasped at the intense unknown thickening the atmosphere.
“I don’t know,” Enosabe answered, crouching even lower as she gazed into the sky. “Can you see that?
Boraleashe felt the presence before a thunderous explosion erupted so powerfully it made his ears pop. The sky turned bright orange and red before the thick clouds were split open by a brilliant golden light, blinding Boraleashe as fire streaked across the sky.
Hades’ hellfire.
Boraleashe
Trust is Restored
Were the gods still trying to give Boraleashe hope? He blinked the dampness from his eyes, trying to see through the steam rising from the ground, an unequaled heat penetrating the frozen earth. The soldiers and even their horses were anxious while they waited for the visitor to reveal themself.
“Stand your ground, men!” Enosabe bellowed, her voice rising over the crackling shards of fire raining from the sky.
“What is it? Another curse?” Kallos whispered to her sister, but Enosabe didn’t answer, standing shell-shocked.
“It’s Hades’ fire,” Boraleashe choked out.
Theodor erupted through the rushing clouds, his long emerald robe flying behind him. He wielded his magnificent sword, Gold Reaper, in one hand while he steered his war stallion, Meadow, with the other.
Boraleashe was exhausted, panic and relief flooding his veins, but he forced himself to take one more breath after another, not wanting to die before he witnessed the magnificence of the Treasure of the Realms one last time. He could close his eyes and sleep when he was dead.
Theodor stood tall on his stallion in his full battle regalia, soaring toward them at the speed of a falling star. It was exhilarating as it was terrifying. When Theodor was close enough for them to see, his daughter shouted.
“It’s the King of the Autumn Realm!” Enosabe announced with a loud cheer, the army joining in on her celebration.
Amazement lodged itself in Boraleashe’s throat, keeping him silent. Theodor brought his glowing sword to his lips and murmured words against the blade that Boraleashe couldn’t understand, a language none of them dared learn. The ancient language of the demons spoken only in the underworld.
Red fire streaked down the length of Theodor’s blade before he leapt from his stallion’s back and landed on the ground, shaking the foundation beneath them so hard that the guard’s Clydesdales pulled on their reins to get away.
“Hold the line!” Kallos barked at the soldiers.
Boraleashe exhaled a nervous breath he didn’t have when Theodor charged toward the beast without an ounce of fear in his eyes. The guards and his daughters let out collective gasps as Theodor leapt into the air, the beast missing his legs by inches, and came down with Gold Reaper across the throat of the troll in front.
Its screams were cut short by Theodor’s sword slicing through the back of the beast’s neck as if it were made of clay. The monster’s head detached from its body with a gruesome, wet, sucking sound that made Kallos gag.
The heat around them intensified while Theodor sparred with the final demon-assassin, harnessing his wind, swinging his blade in devastating strikes, singeing and burning the snow-packed hide of the animal with a weapon that harnessed the hottest flame in existence. It was blinding, almost too brilliant to look at.
Theodor moved around the troll, inflicting fatal wounds while dodging its long claws with fighting techniques of a master. The blur of the king’s skilled fighting moves was far faster than Boraleashe’s muddled mind could keep up with. The creature lunged, and Theodor somersaulted sideways and drove his sword into the belly of the beast with such force that it sent it flying. Theodor gave chase, soaring into the sky right behind it. He reversed his two-handed grip and landed on the back of the troll, driving the blade of hellfire clean through its neck, ending its torture.
Hails and cheers erupted from all around, even from the depths of the caves, while the guards sent up high praises to the gods for the King of Fhomhair.
Boraleashe became dizzy, blackness coating the outer edges of his vision. He could no longer feel the searing pain in his chest, only the love-infused warmth caressing his core when he fell to his knees. He clawed at the melting snow, his other hand covering his aching heart. His treasure had come for him. He’d saved them.
Boraleashe’s guards rushed to his side and tried to help him up, but he waved them off. He wanted to die staring into soft, hazel eyes and running his fingers through long, wavy hair that smelled of all the best parts of fall.
Theodor extinguished his sword, then leapt over the carcass of the last creature, appearing unfazed at the blue-black blood soaking into the earth like acid. Their eyes met, gazes locked.
Theodor soared toward him and hefted him in his arms, his heavy robe wrapping and squeezing him close. Boraleashe grunted in agony, shame and humiliation washing over him at being treated in such a weak manner, but he didn’t refuse the help. In any other circumstance, he would’ve demanded Theodor put him down on his feet at once, but he didn’t mind dying in his strong arms.
