The streets of the capital felt empty now. Overwhelming before, now they were suffocatingly silent. Every step I took caused me to doubt the path we had taken, every laugh from passing people felt hollow.
Askath walked beside me, muttering about the mistakes we had already made. "He should've been ordered to stay by our side.," he said, though I could tell his heart wasn't in it. My thoughts were elsewhere—Alcors was gone, taken by someone who had planned it too well.
"It's fine, you said he was fate's chosen right? Then he should be fine."
"Well, he is blessed but they might be torturing him as we speak."
We retraced our steps, moving through the twisting streets, eyes scanning every shadow, every alley. There were too many people, too many eyes. I could feel their stares, looks of confusion, watching.
Askath nudged me. "Notice anything?"
I nodded, keeping my voice low. "Over there, he's been watching us closely."
Ahead, a cloaked figure stood too still against the crumbling wall of an old building. He wasn't a loiterer. As we approached, he tilted his head slightly, acknowledging us. "Are you looking for the boy?"
My fists clenched. "Where is he? Tell it to me straight, or you lose your head."
The stranger gave a slow nod. "Whilst that is against the law, I won't doubt the threat. I can take you to him. If you're willing to follow."
Askath scoffed. "Not much of a choice, is it?" He sheathed his blade.
The cloaked man led us deeper into the capital's underbelly. The further we went, the filthier it became. The lavish structures disappeared, replaced by cracked stone and the acrid stench of decay. At last, we arrived at a rusted door beneath an abandoned tavern. In this part of the city, where slums surrounded us, anything could happen.
He knocked twice before pushing the door open, revealing a dimly lit chamber lined with torches.
And there was Alcors.
Tied to a chair, face pale, eyes darting between us. He looked terrified, but unharmed. Around him, a group of armed figures loomed, weapons drawn, waiting. And at the far end of the room, lounging like she owned the place, sat Lady Neela. She was a Duchess, I had read about her in Father's news, only because she was as adept as magic as the crown prince. She was my age, a terrifiying thought considering she was clearly out of her mind.
Her blue hair cascaded over her shoulders, her smirk smug, playful. She twirled a dagger in her hands, amused by our presence. "I was wondering when you'd come," she mused. "Took you long enough. See..." She glanced at Alcors mockingly. "They do care about you."
I forced my expression to remain impassive. "You're another competitor, I suppose you think it's fine to cross me so soon."
She nodded, lips curling. "Naturally. Unlike the rest who have all been so passive, I prefer eliminating obstacles before they become a problem." She flicked her gaze to Alcors. "He's an interesting one, isn't he? My psychic said he is one of fate's chosen, people like him are rare. He was able to last a while under her suprresion."
Askath snapped. "So you've hurt him—"
Neela held up a hand, stopping him mid-sentence. "Oh, please. If I wanted him dead, he'd be dead. I simply made him an offer." She leaned forward. "And I'll extend the same courtesy to you. Work for me, and Alcors walks free. Deny me, and—" she snapped her fingers. One of her guards pressed a dagger against Alcors' throat. "Well, you can imagine it wouldn't be very pretty."
I exhaled slowly, keeping my voice even. "You're making a mistake."
Neela laughed. "Oh? And why's that? I hope you don't think violence is the answer, if you knew what my magic could do, you'd be sitting quiet and pretty right now. Like your friend."
Before I could answer, Alcors let out a sharp breath. His veins darkened, turning a deep purple, glowing beneath his skin. A golden light spread outward, his bindings snapping like twigs. The chamber flooded with energy as Neela's guards staggered back, their expressions shifting from confidence to fear.
Askath grinned. "The power of fate's chosen, I'm unsure what the veins are from however..." Nevertheless, Alcors was free.
A look of pure disgust emerged on Neela's face. "What, how? We prepared restrictions to bind him even if he did have the powers of fate's chosen, that blinding radiance makes sense. But what happened to him, why is he covered with purple veins?"
The battle that followed was brief, decisive. With Alcors free, we tore through them. Askath's blade was a blur, striking with precision. I moved through the chaos, each attack measured, each dodge effortless. And Alcors—his power fully unleashed—was something special. His strikes shattered bones, his energy pulsed like an unstoppable force before slowly dying down.
On the other hand, Neela cast various types of magic all of which Askath simply ran through.
She cast a teleportation rite, causing her to appear behind me. Me, who had only been watching till now.
Neela's smirk faltered. She flicked her dagger toward my throat. I sidestepped, catching her wrist in a firm grip. "Your move," I muttered as I prepared the incantation for a dark bolt.
"Dark bolt-."
She spat, yanking her arm free and vanishing into the shadows with another teleportation rite. "Coward."
The dark bolt crashed into the wall, leaving a large disentigrating hole.
The fight was over. The last of Neela's men lay broken. Alcors, his body still glowing faintly, took a shaky breath. "I accepted the deal... What have I done. What was that power?"
Askath clapped him on the back, laughing. "You'll get used to it, I met the hero before. Who had that same power, except from the Veins. Alcors, what are those veins?."
Alcors stuttered. "I don't know how to say this properly... The veins are.."