A Clash of Storms

by Bella Forrest

  Jax instantly straightened his back and turned around. His eyes widened, and a smile bloomed on his face as he recognized the young Mara grinning at him, accompanied by two other wards. He ran over and hugged him tight, lifting him off the ground and laughing. They were both so happy to see each other, I found myself grinning and staring at them, as I watched a wonderful reunion.

  “That’s his younger brother, Heron,” Anjani said. “He’s been a prisoner in Azazel’s dungeon for years.”

  “Jax never mentioned having a brother,” I said.

  “You might’ve noticed by now he’s not much of a sharer, in general.” Jovi smirked. “But he’s a damn good fighter!”

  “Mhm.” Hansa muttered her appreciation, gazing at Jax while he patted his brother’s back and carefully checked his face and body for any wounds that might require treatment. Heron had been through some hard stuff down there, but he seemed strong and reasonably healthy, despite his imprisonment.

  “We need to go outside,” Draven reminded me gently.

  I nodded and rushed down the hallway. We passed through the main gate and swiftly crossed the patch of silvery grass to where Tamara held Kyana in her arms, surrounded by sobbing Lamias. They’d pulled the spear out of her by now, and Patrik had fallen to his knees before her.

  His shoulders dropped, raw emotional pain contorting his features as tears rolled down his cheeks. His lower lip trembled, and his whole body shuddered as he reached out and touched Kyana’s pale, beautiful face.

  Tamara glanced up at him, swallowing back more tears as she set her sister on the grass, for Patrik to have a moment with her. He moved closer and bent over her, gently tracing her face and bloody lips. He dropped a kiss on each eyelid before he broke down completely. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, sobbing and hiding his face in her hair.

  My heart genuinely hurt at the sight of him in so much pain. I cried too, unable to hold it back anymore, and Draven took me in his arms in response, keeping me close as I felt all the grief pouring out of Patrik.

  “I only managed to hug her once and tell her how happy I was to see her after all these years,” Tamara mumbled. “Then we were separated in the battle…”

  “She put up a good fight,” one of the Maras who had brought her over said slowly. “But a Destroyer caught her off guard. We couldn’t save her, but we killed the beast that did this to her…”

  Tamara looked up, her yellow eyes glazed with tears, and nodded at the Maras. No one could be blamed for this. This was the result of war. Even in victory, we were bound to mourn creatures we loved. It hurt deeply, but there was nothing we could do. There wasn’t even anything any of us could say.

  Vita cried next to me, Bijarki holding her close. Aida was wiping tears of her own. They’d both seen her. They knew her well enough to understand the hole she left behind in death. After all, Vita had risked a lot to set Kyana free.

  “At least she died free.” Tamara shuddered and doubled over, hiding her face in her palms as she cried.

  It would take a long time for Eritopia to recover, I realized as I looked around. This had been a fierce and violent war. Thousands had perished, and many more before them under Azazel’s cruel reign. The blood of millions was on his hands, but, thankfully, he was now dead. Asherak, the very darkness that had seduced Azazel into turning against his own world, was lying at the bottom of the pink waters on Mount Agrith, never to be seen or heard from again.

  Still, they’d left behind so much blood. So much grief and suffering. There was so much to be done to help Eritopia recover, to help its people heal and rebuild, for peace to be restored and maintained.

  In our immediate vicinity, there were bodies that needed to be moved to the funeral pyre and creatures that needed their wounds looked after. There were fires to be put out around Luceria—and there were nineteen more planets to be reacquainted with freedom.

  The sun was setting quietly in the west, exploding in violent shades of pink and orange, while a blanket of stars gently emerged from the east. Nightfall would soon be upon us. I leaned into Draven and allowed his golden energy to feed me and replenish my strength.

  He pressed his lips against my temple, his breath warm on my face, and I took solace in the thought that no matter what lay ahead of us in the days to come, we were together.

  We’d survived.

  Serena

  A couple of hours passed as we helped restore some sense of order to the chaos that followed the battle of Luceria. The dungeons downstairs were repurposed to hold all the incubi who had continued fighting for Azazel during the siege. Piles of fallen warriors burned under the late sunset, black smoke billowing into the dark red sky.

  We gathered in the throne room, which was now dark and empty. Vita went in first with a candle, using her fae abilities to throw flickers of fire at all the torches on the black walls and the massive iron chandeliers hanging overhead. A warm amber light enveloped the room, revealing the large podium and sumptuous chair that had served as Azazel’s throne.

  Large paintings decorated the walls, among which was a portrait of a younger Azazel, before he’d become a Destroyer. It filled me with a mixture of dread and sadness, as I tried to understand the motives that had led to his fall into darkness. Sure, it all had to do with greed and the thirst for power, but something had triggered that, and it was something that I couldn’t wrap my head around. What was it that drove a creature naturally inclined toward good to go on such a murderous rampage? What could have made him attempt to destroy everything that his entire species stood for?

  Phoenix broke my train of thought, returning from a cleanup session on a lower level and joining me, Draven, Jovi, Aida, Field, Vita, Bijarki, Anjani, Hansa, Jax, and the rest of our alliance. The young Druids moved around the room, looking at the wall art and occasionally frowning as they exchanged glances—they recognized some of the portrayed figures as former Master Druids, most likely.

  Tamara, Patrik, and Thadeus had also joined us, along with Damion, who’d returned from Mount Agrith after delivering Nova to her sisters. Damion’s eyes were red and puffy, as he’d been reunited with the young Druids and had been told that Cayron had been killed years ago. Heron and all of Jax’s wards were with us, too, as were our three shifters, now reunited with the fourth that Damion had taken to Mount Agrith. Grezzi, Zeriel, Wren, Rebel, Thorn, and Jasmine were the last to arrive, leaving the others to continue cleaning up outside and preparing for Kyana’s funeral pyre.

  We gathered in a wide circle in front of the throne, looking at each other with smiling eyes. We’d been through a lot, but we’d lived to tell the tale. It was now time to go over the next steps so we could smooth Eritopia’s transition back into peace as much as possible. It was also time for us to catch our breath.

  “All of Azazel’s minions are in the dungeons now.” Grezzi was the first to speak. “They will get a fair trial, once we nominate five unbiased judges from the free nations.”

  “They’ll get better prison conditions than those they helped incarcerate, though,” Hansa muttered.

  “We can’t be vile and vengeful like Azazel,” Draven replied. “It’s time we set a higher standard and uphold justice. Although we all know what they deserve, Eritopia’s laws must be restored and respected.”

  We all nodded our agreement, and I looked at Phoenix, Aida, and Vita. They’d been at the center of this for what seemed like forever, and I found myself still enraged by the Sluaghs’ cowardly attack on Stonewall.

  “What about the Sluaghs?” I asked. “They killed many Bajangs back at Stonewall, they nearly wiped out the Red Tribe, and who knows what other atrocities they’ve committed in Azazel’s name? Won’t they be punished accordingly?”

  “We will send out search parties to find them,” Draven said, looking at Hansa. “The Sluaghs have betrayed the whole of Eritopia and will probably go into hiding now. We will smoke them out and kill them. They serve no good purpose in this world anymore. They do not deserve a trial
for what they’ve done.”

  “Oh, good.” Hansa seemed to brighten up a bit. “For a moment there, I thought you were going to try a merciful approach on worms that have perpetuated nothing but treason and murder.”

  “No.” Draven shook his head. “There are crimes and there are crimes. While the incubi haven’t been models of peace and restraint over the years, most of them try to be good creatures. The Sluaghs didn’t even think of trying. They lied, and they killed innocents. There will be no mercy toward evil.”

  “And the prisoners we freed from the dungeons?” Anjani asked, gently leaning into Jovi.

  “They’re in the hospital wing below,” Vita replied. “They’re being looked after with healing potions, food, and water. Many of them haven’t eaten in days. I’ve spoken to some of the fae, and assured them that once this whole mess clears up, we’ll find a way to return them to their homes.”

  “We will clear everything up, Vita.” Draven nodded. “Now that Asherak’s pendant is gone, there is no reason to fear another Druid going dark. There are few of us left, compared to the thousands we once were, but we are capable of reinstating the twenty kingdoms and restoring the peace and common laws. We’ll have to assign new Master Druids from those of us still standing, even if we haven’t achieved our Hundredth Circle Ceremonies. We can do those retroactively.”

  “Leadership is essential right now,” Patrik chimed in, his eyes still red and flickering black. “A couple of band tattoos won’t make a difference.”

  “True,” Draven agreed. “There are forty Druids left on Calliope, not including the ones in this room now. They’re being cared for in the hospital wing. It’s not the physical wounds that hurt them, but their own consciences. These past few centuries under Azazel’s control have been traumatic, to say the least. They will need time to recover and, most importantly, forgive themselves.”

  “Hopefully there were more Druids left in the other kingdoms,” Phoenix interjected, his gaze fixed on Azazel’s portrait, which covered a wide strip of wall and stretched from floor to ceiling.

  “I don’t think we should count on that. We’ll find out once we send a Calliope delegation and army for reconnaissance, but the chances are slim.” Draven sighed, his brow furrowing slightly. “Azazel liked having a lot of Destroyers accompanying him wherever he went, and he’s consistently spent the last few decades here, on Calliope. But I’m not sure of the numbers left across the other planets.”

  “Nevertheless, a few would be better than none, right?” Phoenix lifted an eyebrow.

  “Absolutely. The more of us, the better. We all need to readjust and heal our wounds, both physical and emotional. But we will. The world survived Asherak. And it will survive Azazel.”

  “I will take the lead in reintroducing the Druids to Eritopian society.” Jasmine stepped forward. “Based on what I’ve seen in terms of band tattoos, I am the eldest and most experienced. Most importantly, I am able to help advance my brother’s legacy. Almus sought to help Druids progress, and that is exactly what I intend to do. We’ll rebuild the Grand Temple on Persea and redistribute the Stonewall archives, so all of Eritopia’s kingdoms have access to a complete and proper education.”

  “Reeducation for the Druids, you mean?” I asked.

  “Indeed.” She nodded with a half-smile. “They’ve all been under Azazel’s control spell for so long, they don’t even know how to summon their magic anymore. It certainly won’t happen overnight, but they will get it back. Druid magic is deeply embedded in our cells, and none of Azazel’s spells would ever be able to destroy it.”

  “I must say, I do feel useless at this point,” Thadeus muttered, looking at his hands. “I hope it doesn’t take too long. I’ve been in the dark for decades already…”

  “Give it time, Thadeus, it works differently for each of us but it always comes back. It’s in your nature,” Patrik placed a hand on his shoulder with a reassuring look in his eyes. “Eritopia is inherently mystical. It will help us. We’ll be fine.”

  “I don’t think I would be standing here right now if it weren’t for Serena.” Draven sighed and took my hand in his. Warmth spread up my arm and through the rest of my body as I looked up at him and found his steely gray eyes drilling into my soul.

  “That’s an understatement, to say the least,” Hansa replied, and winked at me, the corner of her mouth twitching.

  I couldn’t stop my cheeks from flushing as I pulled myself closer to Draven. He touched my face, love pouring out of him in ribbons of gold, tickling my senses and swelling my heart.

  “I meant what I said, Serena.” He smiled gently. “I owe you my life.”

  “Remember I owe you mine, too,” I replied. “You were the first to save me when I first went beyond the protective shield and nearly became shifter dinner.”

  He kissed me, soft and deep and tender enough to send fireworks bursting through my veins. When it was over and we looked around, I found nothing but smiles and bright eyes looking back at us. Hansa’s, in fact, were glazed with tears, and Anjani noticed.

  “Forgive my sister.” Anjani grinned. “She gets emotional sometimes.”

  “How can I not get emotional?” Hansa conceded, wiping her eyes. “The Druid has been at the center of this for a long time. It would’ve been a shame for him to miss out on the best part of restoring Eritopia’s freedom! Thank the Daughters that Serena was up there with us and stubborn enough not to give up on him!”

  “There is nothing that love can’t do, if it’s genuine and honest,” Draven said, wrapping one arm around my shoulder and dropping a kiss on the top of my head.

  “Look who we found trying to run off through the north passage!” Two succubi burst in, dragging a bruised Sverik by his arms. He whimpered and struggled against them.

  The succubi were tall and fierce, their leather garments tattered and bodies bruised. They carried broadswords and shields on their shoulders as they tossed Sverik in the middle of our circle.

  “Isla!” Aida gasped when she recognized one of the succubi.

  Bijarki left Vita’s side and took Isla in a brief hug, following up with a pat on her and the other succubus’s back. Our group growled at the sight of Sverik on the floor. He’d been punched a few times, judging by the dark gray swells around his eyes.

  I felt my blood boil, after what we’d been through because of him. I darted from Draven’s embrace and rammed my fist into Sverik’s face, no longer able to contain my rage. I felt his nose break beneath my knuckles.

  “You betrayed us! We risked our lives to save you, and you took us for idiots! You bastard!” I snarled, as Bijarki pulled me back.

  “He’s not worth getting your hands dirty, Serena,” he said. I could hear Sverik sighing with relief and moaning from the pain. Then Bijarki straightened his back and smirked. “Okay, I’m lying. He’s definitely worth getting your hands dirty, but I can’t let you have all the fun.”

  He immediately turned and grabbed Sverik by his shirt, forcing him to stand as he threw blow after heavy blow, splitting his lips and cracking his jaw before Field and Grezzi finally pulled him back.

  Sverik fell backward, landing with a thud, crying and coughing on the floor in a mess of his own silver blood. He could barely keep his eyes open, and I felt my anger subside slightly at the sight of him in such a pathetic state.

  Draven stepped forward, crouching to get a better look at the incubus.

  “Please… Please, don’t hit me anymore… Please, spare me…” Sverik sobbed.

  “That was merely a sliver of what everyone here would like to do you, myself included,” Draven replied dryly. “You actively worked with Azazel against your own people. Such actions are unforgivable and most vile. And for what? Why did you do it, Sverik?”

  “Please… I… I had no choice…”

  “You filthy liar!” Vita shouted, moving forward.

  Aida pulled her back, looking into her furious turquoise eyes.

  “Vita, it’s enough,” she said gen
tly. “We all owe Sverik here a great ‘debt’. He’s wronged us all. He nearly got us killed.”

  She looked at him, and her lips curled with disgust.

  “His father is dead, burning outside along with half of his army,” she added. “He’s kept Isla locked in the dungeons. She deserves justice more than anyone else here. He stood between her and Kristos, after all.”

  Isla swallowed back tears, nodding her approval and glaring at him.

  “He betrayed his own brother,” the succubus said. “Kristos and I loved each other. We’d been together since we were little. He used to sneak out to come see me. I got in trouble with my tribe every time, but I couldn’t stand to be away from him. And Sverik was obsessed with me. He couldn’t accept the fact that I’d chosen Kristos over him. He had me captured and told Azazel where he could find Kristos… of course Sverik had choices! He just made the wrong one every damn time!”

  “Indeed,” Draven added, looking at Sverik. “Everything he did was to attain some kind of power among the incubi in Azazel’s ranks.”

  “He’s the one who convinced Arid to join Azazel in the first place,” Isla hissed. “He pretended to be on his brother’s side while feeding information to Azazel, until Arid had no other choice but to fight against the free people of Calliope. Not that he had a big problem with that! Kristos was the only good thing to come out of that family, anyway!”

  “So, Sverik was basically complicit in every part of Azazel’s elaborate plan to uncover and obliterate the rebellion,” I concluded, finding more hatred to project at the incubus, who was whimpering from the pain, unable to look any of us in the eye.

  “From day one.” Isla nodded. “I warned Kristos before we were separated, before he ran off to work with Grezzi against Azazel. I told him not to trust Sverik, who kept showering me with expensive gifts and telling me that he could keep me safe, no matter what happened. He knew what was coming! He was just trying to keep me out of the bloodbath, the snake! All because he wanted me for himself!”