Death Before Defeat

Chapter 14

Omg I (sort of) made it! Enjoyy

TW: Some wounds/blood

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Cyrus' POV

The stupid memory kept repeating itself in his head, over and over and over. Elias' terrified eyes, waiting for him every time he closed his eyes. He had sat in that same spot for an hour before he had had the strength to pull himself together and yell for someone to 'Clean this mess up!'

He didn't know where they had taken his body.

He tried to tell himself he didn't care.

"Oh, not this again." An irritated voice echoed through his head. "I have told you many times that it was necessary."

"I know, I know! Stop looking at my thoughts." Cyrus said tiredly, waving his hands around. A flicker of red caught his eye and he whipped his head around, expecting to find his hands covered in blood again. He shook his head, letting out a shaky breath.

"Then stop whining about it. It's done, he's dead and we've got work to do."

Cyrus pressed his lips into a thin line, staring at his shaking hands. Elias was gone, there was no reason for him to feel like this.

It still felt as if Elias was right beside him, judging him. He stumbled back a step, hitting his hip on the table in the process. The sting of pain didn't register.

He ripped his eyes away from his hands and braced himself against his desk, breathing heavily. Why was this affecting him so much?

"Nae toa'r, snap out of it!"

Cyrus jumped, having momentarily forgotten that the God was still listening. "Sorry, sir."

A light drizzle came down from the sky, the drops splattering against the windows. "Go and make yourself useful, I want this banishment spell lifted."

"Of course, right away." Cyrus replied, forcing a smile.

"I can't find an existing spell that magically makes it all undone, so we have to think about what the source of the banishment spell is." He tapped his chin thoughtfully. "We'll have a better chance at lifting it if the source is gone or at least weakened. Then perhaps I could create a new spell, by combining some of the existing ones?"

"I'm listening." Nebe sounded interested. That was good, much better than annoyed.

Cyrus smirked and flopped down onto his chair. "Any idea what the source is?"

"Fàsri." Nebe growled. "The God of Nature."

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After hours and hours of research Cyrus had decided he needed a walk to stretch his cramped muscles. They had found a couple of good options, but they weren't perfect. It made him feel a little on edge. The longer this was going to take, the more pissed off Nebe was going to be, and who would be on the receiving end of it?

Him.

"Duck."

He complied automatically, having come to trust Nebe completely. And not a second too soon. An arrow whizzed over his head, embedding itself into the wooden wall.

He stared at it for a moment, narrowing his eyes. Then he whirled around furiously, immediately spotting his attacker. There, in the treeline. Three people hastily trying to cover themselves and their weapon with leaves and twigs, but to no avail. Along with many other things, his eyesight was one thing that had improved significantly after meeting the God.