The Lonely Ones

Chapter Fifty-Four: Absolute, Infinite

Artemis scrambles across the room, desperate to reach Wren. Around him, the hall bursts apart. Thorns and vines rip through the walls, tearing everything their path to shreds. Maggie calls after him, hurrying through the chaos. Artemis pays little mind to the battle around him, knowing only that Ima and Dust continue battling the High King. His laughter echoes in the chamber, mad as mad can be.

Tales were often told of the High King, all of them pointing to his cruelty and malice. Artemis thought he understood, but today he realized he could never understand the insanity of a creature, bored and desperate for a fight, having lived a millenia.

Artemis skids to a halt by Wren's body. Blood covers his shoes then his pants when he falls. Trembling hands grasp Wren's chilled shoulders. He's fearful of looking, of seeing the truth, but he tugs Wren towards him anyway. Wren's eyes lay open, unmoving and dull. A pathetic whimper passes Artemis' lips. Blood soaks his hands when he grasps Wren's doublet, hauling him into Artemis' arms.

Maggie kneels at Artemis' side. She says nothing as she rests a caring hand on Artemis' trembling shoulder. His cries grow louder when he holds Wren close, twisting his fingers into Wren's hair. He pathetically hopes to hear a sudden intake of breath or feel Wren's body heal in his grasp.

He didn't get to say goodbye. He didn't get to tell Wren he loves him. He didn't get to tell him so many things.

Snarling, Artemis glares at the High King over Wren's shoulder. The bastard swerves around the hall, snickering after every seemingly useless attack. His gaze drifts to Artemis, eyes widening to maddening proportions and lips twisting into an evil grin.

"Give me the sword," Artemis growls. He sits Wren down gently and closes his eyes before presenting his hand to Maggie. She stares incredulously at him. "The sword," he repeats.

"Shouldn't we come up with a plan before running in swinging?" she asks, clutching the sword like she expects Artemis to lash out. Truthfully, he just might.

"Do you have a plan?" he challenges.

"Not yet since our last plan was..." She glances nervously at Wren, then squeaks when Artemis snatches the sword from her.

"Artemis!" she shouts, but Artemis has already sprinted into battle. Behind him, he hears her scream, "Ohhh, men!"

The adrenaline coursing through his veins prevents the pain of thorns slicing red hot across his skin. Red drips across the moving floor, alive with skittering monsters of the High King's mind. Spiders and snakes reacting to their master's call, snapping and biting at any limb that grows near. Artemis relieves them of their heads, treads on their carcasses and dodges the debris raining from above. The room morphs, growing larger to accommodate the High King's needs. Water bursts from the walls, sending brown sludge across the floor.

Artemis' feet give way. He stumbles into the current that carries him alongside the deadly snakes slithering through the mud. He narrowly grasps one by the neck. Venom drips from it's fangs as if it can't stop itself from producing more. With a twist, he snaps the snakes neck then grasps a nearby root to pull himself out of the current. His eyes search for Maggie and Wren, but the room moves too swiftly, alive like it has a mind of its own. In truth, it is the High King's mind, warped, twisted, and decayed.

"Are you upset, Artemis?" The High King's voice calls through the chaos. "And here I thought mortals were so accustomed to death."

Growling, Artemis latches onto the roots and crawls his way through the jungle of vines. They break forth from the ceiling in heaps, coating the throne room until it is little more than a tangled mess. Through the roots, he spots brief glances of the High King's golden hair followed by Ima's blade and Dust's tall figure. He hears their battle growing closer as he inches across the throne room, occasionally peering below at the current of water rising.