💎A Collision of Fates💎 (Straight to Gay) (MxM) (18+)

110 - Breck and Nick

If it hadn't been clear before, as the next few days passed, there was no doubt in anybody's mind that The Golden Spire was trying to starve them out. It would've been useless to try and figure out what their exact plan was, but starvation was clearly the first step.

And it was working.

Nick spent most of his days either patrolling the walls, training with the yevans, or training with Rafie. For his part, the big Hollinder had been rather sullen since Nick's introduction to The Lost Brothers. He still agreed to train him, and Nick spent hours trying to master the craft of shadow casting in that marbled room, but Rafie was quiet, reluctant to talk. Nick didn't have much time to worry about that, though, he was too busy improving his skills.

And they were improving, fast. In short order, he was able to recreate the onyx statue, crafting an exact replica of the one that Rafie had made. Nick's statute was able to be picked up, touched, thrown to the ground.

After that skill was mastered to the Hollinder's satisfaction, he started showing Nick some of his tricks that he used during combat, fluid, fast cuts, and wide, sweeping plains of darkness.

With every training session, Nick could feel his power growing. And, with that, the shadow grew bolder, more cunning. Even when he wasn't training, he would sometimes catch the darkness sliding towards his brain, forcing him to push it away.

He saw Adam as much as he could. Adam and Landel spent a lot of time with Yerda, up in his tower. Nick didn't know what they were doing, but, whatever it was, it was keeping his son busy, which was a good thing. Better that than him getting into trouble. When they did have chances to talk, they didn't discuss the siege, and they didn't discuss Adam's desire to fight. Nick's answer wasn't going to change. There was no way that he was going to let Adam join the fray and get himself killed.

So, Nick trained, and he trained, and he trained. Sesstria starved, the rations getting tighter everyday, but he didn't give up, he didn't relent.

A few days after his encounter with The Lost Brothers, Nick was making his way up the cobbled streets of Hilltown. The morning sun was dawning, bright and golden, over the chilly city below it. His breath misted in front of him, and a cold wind blew between the houses. Something about it reminded him of autumn in Chicago, brisk, with the promise of coming snow.

The main thoroughfare was mostly empty as he rounded the final corner, The Palace coming into view ahead of him. But then, as he continued to walk, he noticed a group of defenders banging on the door of one of the largest estates in the district.

"Open up, Mooley!" The gruff, older defender pounded on the door. "We know you're in there. Come out now, and we won't have to embarrass you in front of your family."

As Nick got closer, he saw that Mark and Djaro were with them, as well. They were standing at the edge of the group, watching the defenders from a few paces away.

The defenders continued to knock as Nick approached.

"Hey, guys." Nick stuck his hands in his pocket, breathing out the cool air.

Mark turned back, and nodded. "Nick."

Djaro draped an arm over Mark's shoulder. "You have arrived just in time, my friend. You are about to witness our greatest triumph."

Mark rolled his eyes. "He's exaggerating."

"You sell yourself short, Mark, as always." Djaro kissed the side of Mark's head, which made the other man blush slightly and push away. "He's discovered a thieving beven among you all, a man so consumed by profit and greed, he's willing to sell his own city short."