The Darkest Sword

by Samantha Kroese

  “Of course, my King. My name is Soryn,” the servant replied as he risked a glance up.

  Ashiyn felt that odd sense of familiarity and the confusing inability to remember something again. What was it? “Make yourself useful and draw me a bath,” Ashiyn grumbled as he turned and stalked to the armory to meticulously clean the blood off his armor and blade. Soryn scrambled to obey.

  By the time Ashiyn walked into the washroom, a steaming bath had been prepared with soothing aromatic oils that wafted through the air. As he slipped off his stained shirt and dropped it carelessly on the floor, he heard a sharp gasp behind him. He turned to find Soryn gaping at him. Ashiyn raised a brow. Women threw themselves at him all the time, but he was not used to seeing such unbridled desire for him in a man’s eyes. Feeling a little wicked after all the killing he held the man’s gaze and smirked, as he slowly unfastened his pants and slid those to the floor as well. Without a word, he strode boldly past the servant and took his time slipping into the bath.

  Soryn had turned an interesting shade of red and was gasping for breath, nearly hyperventilating. He mumbled an excuse and fled the room.

  Ashiyn snickered to himself as he relaxed in the hot water and let it chase the stiffness from his muscles. The reaction should have angered him, he supposed. Rhadamanthus was adamant that two men enjoying each other was an abomination. Ashiyn remembered Diredin and his lessons though. Still, no man had interested him. He had women available to him whenever he wanted them. The fact that Soryn was so clearly affected by him amused Ashiyn.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Soryn fled to the sitting room of Ashiyn’s chambers. He did not dare go farther than that. Ashiyn would need him soon. He leaned against the wall and closed his eyes. He took deep breaths to slow his racing heart. He felt like he was on fire. He tried to think of anything besides Ashiyn’s bare skin, the rippling muscles beneath it. What had he been thinking? Ashiyn was no uncertain child. Three-thousand years of seduction had given Ashiyn confidence in whom and what he was.

  Soryn wanted, needed, to go back into the washroom. When they were young he had successfully seduced Ashiyn a few times. No. Ashiyn did not remember who he was. Too dangerous. Soryn had to wait for him to remember. Ashiyn had a reputation now for killing his lovers and he had not once taken a male lover after Rhadamanthus had erased Ashiyn’s memory of Soryn. Oddly, Soryn’s reaction had seemed to amuse Ashiyn rather than anger him.

  “Will you be able to control yourself? We have to kill the most powerful being on this planet now.”

  Ashiyn’s voice made Soryn nearly jump out of his skin, and he was pretty sure his heart tried to climb out of his throat. Soryn’s eyes flew open. Ashiyn was dressed again in his dark, heavy, armor, the plate mail concealing the perfect body beneath it. Ashiyn did not wear a helm to hide his handsome face or his piercing golden eyes, though. Soryn’s breath caught and he could not answer.

  Ashiyn picked Sihtaar up from its glass case, and the evil blade glowed, awakening at his touch.

  Soryn forced himself to breathe. Forced away thoughts of how he wished Ashiyn’s fingers were caressing him instead. He had to focus. If he wanted Ashiyn back, he had to help kill Rhadamanthus, and he was well aware of how dangerous it was. Soryn cleared his throat and pushed off the wall, trying to appear casual. “Of course, my King. I am ready when you are.”

  “Are you?” Ashiyn asked and raised a brow, amusement tugging at the corner of his lips again.

  Soryn clenched his hands until his nails brought pain. The pain shocked him out of his arousal. He shook himself, then smiled charmingly at Ashiyn. “Is it dangerous, my King?”

  “Of course it is. If it were not, I would have succeeded,” Ashiyn said with a scowl.

  Soryn walked closer until he stood next to Ashiyn, keeping his gaze respectfully lowered. “Perhaps, if we succeed, you could reward your servant?”

  “Bold of you. What do you want?” Ashiyn asked, looking Soryn over.

  “With all due respect, I think it’s quite clear what I want,” Soryn hazarded a glance up to meet Ashiyn’s gaze. Soryn resisted the urge to catch his breath. He was playing a dangerous game. It had worked before, but Ashiyn had been much younger.

  Ashiyn tilted his head in thought.

  “If I were a woman would you question it?” Soryn prodded when Ashiyn did not answer.

  “If you were a woman, I would take you now,” Ashiyn snorted then turned away. “Succeed first. Then we will talk about your reward. I do hope you can focus.”

  Soryn sighed. “Yes, my King. It won’t be a problem. Once I step between planes, I will have crystal clarity.”

  “Then let us proceed. I have waited long enough for this,” Ashiyn said, then waved a hand dismissively and walked out of the room.

  Once Ashiyn was out of the room it was easier to focus. Soryn took a few moments to gather his thoughts. He closed his eyes and let his magic surface. His body shivered as the cold magic rushed over him. Soryn faded from what was known as the physical world and used his celestial magic to transcend it. When he reopened his eyes, he stood in a hollow black place with the planes stretched before him like endless doors. He called his magic and focused on Rhadamanthus. The doors flew past him, activated by the magic. One slammed into place before him and Soryn could see the monster’s lair hidden between planes. Rhadamanthus was draining the essence of the planes themselves to achieve a form of immortality.

  Soryn waited for Ashiyn to call Rhadamanthus from the lair. Soryn knew he had precious little time. He stepped into the door. The plane shimmered to life around him, disorienting him. What he found there horrified him. The dark room was littered with desiccated corpses. The freshest appeared to be two children who stared up at him with unseeing eyes from horrifically mangled bodies. Soryn resisted the urge to retch and forced himself to look away.

  No more would suffer at Rhadamanthus’s hand, least of all Ashiyn. Righteous fury filled him and Soryn unleashed all his magic. Massive wings sprouted from his back, and his body became a vessel for pure light. It came out of him in waves as he used it to tear the lair apart. There would be no way for Rhadamanthus to return or use the planes to tether his essence now.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Ashiyn hit the wall of the chamber with enough force he felt bones crack. He snarled and raised Sihtaar in front of him to absorb the next blow of magic. Sihtaar laughed in his mind as it drank deeply of the spell and protected Ashiyn from it.

  “I will rend you into a million pieces and see how long it takes you to come back from that!” Rhadamanthus roared from where he floated in the center of the room, the air crackling with his unleashed magic. Though Ashiyn had stolen his life and his physical strength to resurrect Illusion, Rhadamanthus had spent millennia getting used to his new form and honing his magic. This battle was not new to either of them.

  Ashiyn swung Sihtaar, sending the blade spinning through the air at the skeletal magus. As it spun, Sihtaar drank Rhadamanthus’s magic, absorbing all that it touched.

  Rhadamanthus dove out of the way of the blade, then whirled to send another crippling spell at Ashiyn. Ashiyn ran underneath it, outstretching his hand to call Sihtaar back with his magic. Rhadamanthus dodged the flying blade again as he continued floating around the room and throwing magic. Ashiyn scrambled, just barely keeping ahead of the bolts of death magic. They would not kill him, but they would eventually wear him down.

  Stab him! I will devour him! Sihtaar insisted in Ashiyn’s thoughts. Ashiyn glared at the blade.

  He drew Sihtaar’s magical lightning to his hand and used his will to form it into a hooked chain. Between spells, he whirled it through the air. Rhadamanthus screeched in fury when the hook imbedded itself into his chest. He stopped to try to remove it, but he was not fast enough. Ashiyn slid Sihtaar onto his back, then used his supernatural strength to swing the chain, throwing Rhadamanthus into the wall.

  Rhadamanthus’s physical form was frail now and it crumpled with the force, bones shatterin
g at the impact. The monster deflated into a pile of bodily debris, wheezing and glaring at Ashiyn with a harsh stare that promised death. As the creature’s body died, Rhadamanthus’s essence of pure magic floated from it in a ghostly form and started to flee toward the doorway to his lair.

  Ashiyn had not realized how close the door was. He did not have time to get there before Rhadamanthus did. He drew Sihtaar but this time, even that was too slow.

  As Rhadamanthus reached the doorway it exploded outward with blinding light. Ashiyn raised an arm to cover his eyes at the painful glare.

  “You! No! Impossible. I made certain he would not remember you,” Rhadamanthus wailed.

  Soryn stepped out of the doorway and it crumbled behind him. He glowed white with light magic, blinding to look at, and he folded his massive wings behind him. He lashed out with chains of light and threw Rhadamanthus toward Ashiyn. “You will control him no more, monster!”

  Ashiyn swung Sihtaar and pinned Rhadamanthus’s essence to the wall next to him, the sword’s magic eagerly draining the magus. Ashiyn leaned close as Rhadamanthus jerked and screamed. “What? What did you do?” Ashiyn demanded.

  “It will not matter. My death does not matter. You are mine. You will always be what I have made you,” Rhadamanthus choked out as he started to fade away. “Behold your true enemy. The one born to destroy you. Do not forget that.” Rhadamanthus managed to point a ghostly finger at Soryn before he let out one last pained screech and exploded, his essence draining into Sihtaar.

  Ashiyn sank to one knee using Sihtaar for support and gasped for breath. Silence fell over the room, and the sword grew dull as the spirit inside fell dormant, sated. As Rhadamanthus’s presence disappeared, so did the walls of the curse in Ashiyn’s mind. Memories of Soryn flooded back. The realization that Rhadamanthus had stolen them from him for three thousand years made Ashiyn wish he could torture the monster again. How different would everything had been had Soryn been there all that time?

  “Are you well, my King?” Soryn asked hesitantly as he scooted closer.

  Ashiyn slowly rose, dropping Sihtaar to the ground. Then he turned toward Soryn, overwhelmed by the rush of emotions. The first and strongest was horror that he had sent Soryn flying into the unknown. Soryn stood before him, a normal looking man once more, his celestial powers hidden. Not trusting words, Ashiyn stormed over to Soryn and pressed him against the wall, his lips pressed hungrily against Soryn’s.

  Soryn made a startled noise, his eyes wide, and then he seemed to melt into Ashiyn. Soryn’s hands grasped Ashiyn’s hair as he desperately returned the kiss. Ashiyn pulled back to catch his breath, pressed close to Soryn. “I didn’t remember.”

  “I know you didn’t,” Soryn whispered, trailing his hands down Ashiyn’s cheeks. “It’s all right. We’re here now. I waited.”

  Ashiyn felt inexplicably drawn to Soryn. Not just because of their past and the memories and feelings just restored to him. It had something to do with their magic. It pulled them together. He craved Soryn in a way he had never craved another. Ashiyn picked Soryn up. “You are more patient than I could ever be,” he mumbled as he carried Soryn toward his chambers.

  “You are worth it,” Soryn managed to squeak out between heavy breaths. “What are you doing?”

  “Rewarding you,” Ashiyn smirked as he threw Soryn down on his bed then started to remove his armor. Once he was undressed, he crawled onto the bed and tore Soryn’s clothes free.

  Soryn blushed as Ashiyn’s hands explored him. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

  Ashiyn pressed close as he pulled Soryn to him. “What do you think?” Ashiyn whispered in Soryn’s ear.

  “I think I want you to take me so hard that I feel you for the next millennium. Just in case,” Soryn gasped back as he arched against Ashiyn.

  “So be it,” Ashiyn muttered. He got lost in Soryn’s screams of pleasure and in the bliss of their reunion. Addicted to the feel of it, addicted to the emotions they shared. Their magic warned them it was wrong. They were meant to be enemies. Not even that deterred them. They could not stop, not until their bodies gave out in exhaustion and they could do no more.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  Soryn hurt like a wild animal had mauled him. Cracking an eye open to look at Ashiyn sleeping soundly next to him he decided the comparison was not far off. They had been together as young men, but he had never before awakened that much desire in Ashiyn. He sighed and relaxed into the comfortable bed. His emotions were everywhere. His magic had screamed at him how wrong it was the entire time they had been together, but everything else had screamed how right it was. He didn’t care if his magic told him Ashiyn was the enemy. He didn’t care if the universe wanted him to destroy his friend. Now that he had rested a little he wanted nothing more than to wake Ashiyn to do it all again.

  Unfortunately, they were still mortal enough that their bodies had needs too. Soryn grunted as he crawled out of the bed and made his way to the washroom to relieve himself. His stomach rumbled loudly. How long had they been lost in each other? Hours? Days? Weeks? He shook his head and picked up his pants. They were ripped in half. At the time he had not cared, but now what was he going to wear? He turned and dug around in Ashiyn’s drawers until he found a pair of pants he thought might fit and tugged them on. He had to draw the belt tight to hold them up; he was very thin compared to Ashiyn’s muscular bulk.

  Soryn stopped short when he realized Sihtaar lay nearby in its case. Magic chased over it as he looked at it. How had it gotten there? He had seen Ashiyn leave it behind. The sight of the blade filled him with fear. The being within it craved the life and power of celestials. Many had been sacrificed to lock the creature within the blade. He could hear them whispering to him, the souls trapped there. Telling him to destroy Ashiyn and hide Sihtaar.

  Soryn scowled and glared at the blade, then stormed to the doorway instead. No. He would not destroy Ashiyn. He would save Ashiyn and the world. “Only your death will save the world,” Rurik’s words taunted him from his thoughts. He shuddered and opened the door.

  As he had suspected, the Nthir lurked just outside. “Tell the servants to get us some food,” he told the Nthir. He was not sure it would work. It had been a long time since the Nthir had been one coherent being, but collectively they had seemed to remember Soryn. They circled around on the ceiling, hissing threats for a moment, before one of them broke away and darted off toward the servants’ quarters.

  Soryn closed the door and turned back to the bed only to stare right into Ashiyn’s narrowed golden eyes. Soryn swallowed, uncertain. “I told them to get us some food. I thought you might be hungry.”

  “I am hungry,” Ashiyn growled then used his magic to yank Soryn back to the bed.

  Soryn could not resist. He was lost in Ashiyn devouring him when the servants came in to leave their food. Ashiyn ignored them, doubling his efforts when he realized he had lost Soryn’s attention. Soryn barely saw the disturbed looks from the servants before he was lost to it again. Once they were gone, he gasped, dragging his nails down Ashiyn’s back. “You’re insatiable.”

  Ashiyn laughed as they finished, then let go of Soryn and untangled their bodies. He sat up and grabbed the tray of food, downing half the drink the servants had left before beginning to eat.

  Soryn, ravenous now, joined him in eating. Once the food was gone, he lay there eyeing Ashiyn’s bare body. He wanted nothing more than to lie there and let Ashiyn take him until neither of them could move again.

  Ashiyn caught him looking and smirked before stretching slowly, displaying himself before he said, “Get up and draw us a bath. You’re still my servant.”

  Soryn blushed and scooted out of the bed, scrambling to the washroom to obey. The bath ended similarly. They could not get enough of each other. It was a deep craving that made everything feel so much better.

  The cacophony of knocks on the outer door interrupted them this time. “Master! Master!”

  Ashiyn growled, instantly the mo
nster again, as he surged from the bath and stormed, dripping water, to his door. “What is it, fool?”

  The servant cowered and bowed to the floor as Soryn scrambled out to watch, a towel around his waist at least.

  “It’s Marista, Master,” the servant gasped through tears flowing down their face.

  “Marista?” Ashiyn looked confused for a moment. “Is that my woman?”

  Soryn stared at Ashiyn. “You don’t even ask their names anymore?” he blurted out, instantly regretting it when Ashiyn glared at him. He lowered his gaze to the floor. Their moment had ended. Ashiyn was the monstrous King once more and Soryn was merely his servant. It stung, but Soryn understood. Ashiyn would not be seen as weak to anyone.

  “Yes, Master, that one. You must come, please,” the servant pleaded then rose and ran down the hall.

  Ashiyn snarled and threw his hand out to gather his clothes and armor with his magic. It floated through the air and wrapped around Ashiyn’s body. Once dressed, he drew Sihtaar to the scabbard on his back.