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Towering over him, the king prepared his spear made of dark purple magic, the king's cold eyes mercilessly looking down on Drokn.
Laying helpless on the cold, tile floor, Vrona's words rang in Drokn's ears. He should have listened to her. He should have waited for the group who had spent many years planning. He should have trusted her words that his magic would not have been enough against the King. Now, he was a blade away from never having a chance at redemption ever again.
And the Elf. Where had he gone? Why did the demon feel a surge of anxiety? The elf was in trouble, yet he—
When had he ever helped the elf? Begging the elf to stay without listening to his words, did he even have the right?
Why was he so prideful? Had it ever served him?
A senseless scenario of sure death he could have easily avoided in many ways if it weren't for his selfishness. Not being by the elf's side where he was in danger. Looking up at the sharp spear making its quick way to his heart, the only thought that ran in the demon's mind was:
What am I even doing?
In a swift movement, Drokn held his breath and threw small balls at the king's feet. The small balls exploded in contact, emitting a green gas. Suddenly, the king's spear of magic vanished. Magic neutralizing smoke bombs. Forced to carry by the demoness's demand, now the demon was, he supposed, ever so slightly grateful for.
Sparks in his palm, the space between the king's brows crinkled with great depth as he scowled. For someone who relied on magic, not being able to use it was his greatest weakness. And, perhaps, his greatest irritant.
However, the king's magnanimous magic was revered for a reason. Despite the smoke bombs that had disabled many guards in Vrona's fights, the king used a stronger force of magic than the speed at which the smoke bombs neutralized magic.
He started to form weapons of magic yet again, his veiny hand reflecting white, bright purple from the force of his magic. With a swipe of his hand, he used his magic to dissipate the smoke around him. And in the next instant, more purple drew from his palms, this time, his eyes targeting Drokn.
In that time, Drokn had dug into his pocket and reached for a sheet of paper. Specifically, a spell circle. Just as the king reeled back his arm, preparing to throw his magic at Drokn once again, Drokn threw the paper at the king's right foot. The paper, as light as it was, drifted gently towards the king, almost at a mocking pace.
Although, the moment the sheet touched the king's boot, the king was held in a stand still, his whole body frozen just for a split second. Taking that chance, Drokn quickly spun himself around, stumbling on his feet and arms as he tried to leverage himself back up. Running past the doors to the king's chamber, Drokn was soon well out of sight.
The king, now feeling a boiling rage within his chest, forced himself out of the effects of the spell circle, gaining his movement quicker than the average demon. Stomping forward, ready to chase down and murder the defiant and cowardly demon, he made his way forward.
But it had been barely two steps when he had suddenly felt a prick on his neck and his body stilled. He could feel the odd sensation of his magic draining from his body. Before he could take another breath, he was shoved to the floor, overpowered from the surprise by the stranger behind him. How could he not notice this figure's presence??
Now, truly unable to use the extent of his magic, the king's irises burned red. Thrusting his shoulder up, he spun himself around. Fortunately for the king, the stranger was embarrassingly weak physically, and the king moved himself out with ease.
Finally able to see the stranger's face, the king's eyes grew wider in rage. "You—!" At this point, it seemed as if fire surrounded the king, and touching the king would be scalding.
Lunging forward, the king conjured weak specks of magic within his palms, ready to sear through the skin of his enemy.
His enemy, however, ruffled his hair, shifted up, and sprinted. Actually sprinted. In a quite embarrassing and pathetic manner, if one might add. Only a short distance away, the stranger stopped, hands on their knees, gasping for air. Turning around to see the king, the stranger was satisfied to see the small amount of magic that once lay upon the king's palm also vanished.
Oh, right, I could use magic, too, the dimwitted stranger thought, and in the next instant, the room was ablaze with a deep purple mixed with black. If the king did not have pride etched into his core, this would have been one of the first moments he would have felt overpowered, witnessing magic he could claim almost as strong as his own.
The magic that fogged the room condensed quickly around the king and morphed into shackles which bound the king's wrists and feet. Floundering in an effort at a jog, the strange demon made their way closer.
The king viciously eyed the other and as the space between them grew short, the king leaned down and shoved his head forward, attempting to plunge into the other demon. However, the stranger easily dodged, although shocked at the energy the king still had. Revealing three more needles from a case within a sachet on their belt, the stranger lightly pricked three more areas along the king's spine as soon as the king's back was revealed.
With a stagger, the king promptly fell to the ground. "Hmm, it's true. You really are quite powerless without magic," the stranger said. Creating a blanket of purple over the king to contain him to the ground, the stranger revealed a deep, long, tiresome sigh.
In a flash, the air slowly started to spark with magic. The magic neutralizing gas from Drokn had been wearing off and despite the poisonous needles the stranger had injected, it couldn't contain all of the king's magic for long.
That's when, with the hallway full of shuffling boots, all the demons led by Vrona and a few others made their grand entrance into the king's chamber. Of all the situations the group of rebels had thought of and spontaneously planned for, what they weren't expecting was the scene currently in front of them. Therefore, they couldn't help but gawk in surprise.
"Uhm. I don't know how much longer I can hold him down. Care to help?" the stranger requested. Or, perhaps this stranger was no stranger at all. For the voice belonged to none other than Tahgaryn, or as the palace staff would call him: the second heir to the throne. The king's second son.
YOU ARE READING
The Demon and the Elf (Book 1)
Fantasy[mlm] The lonely Elf had waited many years to meet his bonded mate, but reality was harsher than he would have liked when he finds out his mate is not only a Demon, but the Demon wants nothing to do with him. [Part 1/Book 1 complete. Follow the stor...
