The Flames in the Horizon

5

Jorah's eyes remain fixed on Eris, watching his every move. In his study, amidst the flurry of answering letters from distant courts, Jorah observes Eris flitting about. He briskly walks through the grand halls of the Forest House, attending to the final preparations for his coronation in three days.

"Eris, perhaps you should slow down." Jorah suggests, concern lacing his words.

"There's much to do, Jorah." Eris replies. He doesn't even spare a glance for Jorah, completely engrossed in his duties.

"Yes, but your life was threatened just two days ago. Maybe you should take the afternoon to rest, to calm your racing mind." Jorah insists, quickening his pace to keep up with Eris.

"I'm expecting guests in two hours; I need to be prepared." Eris retorts.

"Guests?" Jorah echoes, surprise coloring his voice. He hastens his steps, trying to catch up with Eris's relentless stride. "What guests?"

"Thesan." Eris reveals, his tone tinged with a mix of anticipation and amusement.

"Thesan?" Jorah repeats, his voice filled with incredulity.

"Are you going to repeat everything I say?" Eris asks, a playful edge to his words.

Jorah pauses, momentarily taken aback. "I apologize. It's just that I don't think this is a good idea, Eris. We haven't even identified the assailant who tried to kill you. It's possible he was sent by another court, perhaps Dawn."

"Jorah, I appreciate your concern. But I can't cower in fear every time my life is in danger. If I did, I would never be able to leave this castle," Eris responds, his voice resolute and unwavering. "That wasn't the first attempt on my life, and it certainly won't be the last. Besides, if the group that male belonged to is anything like him, then they're all fools. I can handle fools." Eris pauses to sign off on a paper about his coronation that a servant stops by with. With his signature, the fae hurries off.

"Don't be an arrogant prat, Eris. Your father was the most paranoid male in all of Prythian, and still he was slain." Jorah points out.

"Yes, by the male who is now in my possession." Eris retorts, a smug grin playing on his lips.

Jorah chuckles, his head shaking in amusement. "You're quite the cocky son of a bitch, you know that?"

Eris's response hangs on the tip of his tongue, but he abruptly stops, causing Jorah to skid to a halt just behind his elbow. Confusion etches across Jorah's face as he watches Eris's sudden change in demeanor.

"What is that?" Eris demands, turning in circles in the middle of the hall.

"What is what?" Jorah asks, raising a brow at his High Lord's odd behavior.

"That smell," Eris replies exasperatedly. "It's..." the most delectable thing Eris has ever encountered. He inhales deeply, savoring every ounce of the tantalizing scent. Turning once more, he scans the hallway behind him. "Where is it coming from?" He hisses, completely disregarding Jorah as he takes off down the corridor.

"Eris!" Jorah shouts after him.

Eris ignores everything and everyone in his path—the fae seeking his approval for decorations and food for his impending coronation, his brother Nash, whose curious gaze follows him as he strides past, even the young boy attempting to pilfer a golden candle holder. Eris follows the intoxicating scent, his senses fully honed, leading him out of the castle and into the sprawling courtyard.

Upon reaching the grand fountain in the center of the cobblestone expanse, Eris freezes. The wind shifts, and the source of the tantalizing aroma eludes him. Frustration curls his lip, but then the breeze changes once more, and he pinpoints the source. In an instant, he winnows, reappearing on the other side of the castle where no towns or people encroach. The land is vast, open but surrounded by distant trees, with only the training fields occupying the space. A sturdy wooden structure houses an array of weapons, seamlessly integrated into the outer wall of the Forest House. The grass surrounding the area is meticulously trimmed, revealing rectangular patches of earth that outline the fighting rings. And there, elegantly poised in the first ring, stands Azriel.