Dylan impatiently tapped his fingers on his throne. In the morning, when he got up, Mira's necklace was no longer there. The girl had to take good care of it, because if she didn't, that woman could plot something.
The day seemed calm with the wind blowing gently and birds singing outside. However, something told him that this was like a mirage, hiding what was really to come.
When Oswald, his advisor, entered the throne room, the king knew his suspicions were correct.
His old friend's red hair was tied in a ponytail, round golden glasses resting on his nose. The green shirt and pants, along with the golden eagle-shaped brooches, showed his rank in that place.
As the redhead crossed the beige and thin carpet that covered most of the path from the door to the throne, the younger one could see the worried expression on the 50-something man's face.
"Majesty!" the older man said. "We have troubles."
When the other said that, Dylan frowned.
"Go on, Oswald."
"That organization, Shiake, is attacking again. They want to take the children, Majesty! I thought about sending the soldiers."
"Don't worry, Oswald." the king said with a smile. "I'll handle them myself."
The silver-haired man rose from the throne. The long gray cape that covered his shoulders fell to the ground; he was already prepared for such a situation. The sword, "flame blade," was already strapped to his waist.
As he walked down the corridor, his honey-colored eyes glanced at the portrait of his father. He looked at the image of the man with black hair, a severe expression, and eyes the same color as his, with disgust.
He felt the white shirt under the black mesh tighten against his body as he took a deep breath. Memories of the time during King Neelas' reign were still alive in his mind. His father was a cruel man who taught Dylan to kill and hate those who were different, which according to the former king, were filthy. The young man never agreed with that, but at the time, he was too weak to do anything. So, he just followed orders obediently.
On the day his little sister Mira awakened her powers. He knew he had to do something.
The madman would probably do something to the girl. The murder of more fairy families the day before only confirmed that. The young man knew he had to do something.
So when Neelas sent the soweetys after Sophie, they fought. When the sword pierced the old man's chest, the only feeling was a sense of accomplishment.
He opened the palace doors, saw the sun illuminate the black mesh with golden details covering his chest.
He ordered Athos, his most loyal horse, to be prepared. As his black pants touched the animal's back, Dylan knew he would once again have to fulfill his duty.
The commercial area was chaotic. People ran in all directions, fleeing from the black smoke that tried to engulf them.
Masked figures in common black leather clothes and fiery capes shouted, saying they were looking for a harbinger of death. One of them threatened to take a child from their mother.
Dylan positioned Athos between them, startling the attacker.
"What do you death knights want here? You're not allowed in my kingdom. Where are the masters of darkness? Too afraid to show up, so you sent your dogs to hunt?" He taunted.
The invaders attempted to attack him. The king dodged, dismounted his horse, and drew his sword.
"Come!"
"Majesty, are you going to fight them alone?" asked a man.
Dylan smiled.
"Don't worry, you're safe."
The people began to sigh in relief. Their king was there, there was nothing to fear.
Dylan conjured the blue flames. They filled the entire market, driving away the shadows.
"It seems you can't even snatch a child without being noticed. You're useless," he laughed.
A man dressed in the same uniform as the enemies, but without a mask, stood among them. His black hair was tied in a short ponytail, and his hazel-green eyes looked at Dylan with disgust.
"Don't blame them. We didn't expect the boy king to show up," another one with blue eyes and purple hair said. A red earring dangled from his right ear.
Both appeared to be 25 years old, but the sovereign wasn't fooled by them.
"How are you, Elijah, Ethan? Noah doesn't have the guts to come here after the scar I left on his face?"
"Wow! You're hurting my feelings, young Dylan," Ethan said. "I miss hearing you call me Uncle Ethan. Remember when you used to say you wanted to be as cool as me?" He looked at the king's clothes. "At least you learned that much," he gave a sly smile.
"When you're a child, you don't see the evil in the world. I grew up and noticed how rotten you all are," he smirked slyly. "Like I told your little dogs, you're not welcome here."
"There's no use arguing with the boy, Ethan," Elijah said. "He only accepts brute force."
The man with black hair drew his sword and lunged at Dylan.
The younger one smiled. Dylan grew up with these men. His father took him to meetings, and everyone adored them. They taught him to fight, to use magic, to be a man. Much more than his father did. Shiake was like his family, but they were on the wrong side. Furthermore, as king, his kingdom came first. Something Neelas would never do.
He drew Flame Blade and defended himself. He already knew what would come next. Shadows emanated from the enemy's sword, gathering around him. These shadows were stronger than before.
He dodged, leaping back. The shadows grew darker and denser. But to him, it didn't mean much.
The flames danced in his left hand, repelling the dark entities, though not extinguishing them.
Dylan felt someone behind him. It was Ethan. He attacked with a blast of cutting the wind. The other defended himself by creating a shield of yellow light, which only slightly diverted the attack. A few seconds later, cuts on his arms became visible.
They continued attacking from both sides. The white-haired one could feel Elijah's sword pierce his left rib, while Ethan restrained him with vines. Of course, he could counterattack, and the fight would go on all day. Both sides attacking and regenerating. In an ongoing battle that would only end when they were exhausted or dead.
However, a noise was heard. It was a phoenix chirping above them. The enemies knew what it meant; it was time to retreat.
"See you another day, young Dylan," Ethan said.
When they disappeared in a cloud of black dust, the king's hand trembled.
"Damn it!" he exclaimed.
The black marks were visible, spreading across his skin.
"I see that the curse is advancing," a feminine voice said.
The woman was there again, the one who cursed his family. The reason he wanted his sweet little sister to come home.
"What do you want?" he said irritably.
Everything was frozen, as in all the moments she appeared. The common people seemed like statues.
"I came to check on you," the hooded figure said.
. "To remind you that time is running out."
The dark blue hood concealed her face; only a blonde lock of hair falling over her light beige dress was visible.
"You don't need to remind me of that," he snarled.
The stranger laughed. She approached and hugged him. Dylan made a disgusted expression. Funny how the touch of a person from the same family as hers brought the opposite sensation.
"Time is passing, for me. It's not a problem. But for you… Tick-tock, little king."
He felt her arms loosen, and suddenly, everything was normal again.
Dylan closed his hand, clenching it. His little sister needed to be home as soon as possible.