The dimly lit chamber held an air of unease as Nirdue entered, his medium blonde hair framing a gaunt face that bore no warmth. He approached his father, Lord Damien, who sat in his favorite chair with his legs crossed at the ankles. The room was empty except for them and his fathers guards. Lord Damien looked up with a tired sigh and rubbed his eyes.
"What is it Nirdue? I've had a long day. Please tell me you aren't bringing me more bad news."
"Father," Nirdue said, his voice cold and distant, "I brought you a gift."
He presented a teapot to Lord Damien, its glossy surface reflecting the flickering candlelight. It was adorned with intricate patterns, each swirl and loop expertly etched, giving it an air of deceptive simplicity.
"It's from the southern provinces," Nirdue continued, his voice bland, as though he were reciting a well-rehearsed script, "They say the herbs brewed in this pot hold a soothing quality like no other. Perhaps it could ease your fatigue."
Damien raised an eyebrow, his light grey eyes curious. He accepted the pot with a smile, his dark blonde hair falling into his eyes as he examined it. "A thoughtful gesture," he murmured, "though quite unusual for you." His gaze drifted back to Nirdue, sharp and assessing.
Unfazed by his father's scrutiny, Nirdue simply shrugged. "Consider it an apology… for my recent behavior." His tone held no remorse; instead, it was laced with his usual detachment.
"Thank you, my son. It is quite exquisite."
Nirdue nodded and took the pot back, adding tea leaves and hot water before leaving it to steep. Once the tea was brewed, he poured for them both, holding the teapot with one hand to pour his father's tea, and then cradling it more carefully with two hands to pour his own.
Lord Damien lifted the cup to his lips, hesitating for a moment as if sensing something amiss. But then, he drank. Nirdue watched, a carefully schooled expression of indifference on his face. He sipped from his own cup before setting it down on the table. The ugly ring he had taken to wearing flashing in the light.
A minute passed in silence, then two. Nirdue watched his father intently as Lord Damien's face began to pale, and his body slumped on his chair. His eyes widened in alarm as he dropped the teacup, the porcelain shattering against the stone floor, spilling its poisoned contents. His body fell to the rug under his chair, hiding the starburst pattern with his body as he reached out to Nirdue with one hand.
Just then, Gideon and Djuran burst into the room, their urgency evident in the hurried steps and faces drawn tight with concentration. Gideon's braided purple hair fell around his face, determination etched into every line of his expression. Djuran towered above them all, his dark skin and red eyes radiating power as he surveyed the scene.
"Lord Damien!" Djuran bellowed, his low, warm voice filling the chamber.
Gideon's eyes widened in shock as he dropped to his knees alongside his uncle, trying to understand the scene that was unfolding. He caught sight of the shattered teacup, the remnants of tea pooling darkly on the floor. His heart thudded painfully in his chest as realization dawned, and he turned accusing eyes on Nirdue.
Nirdue nonchalantly met Gideon's accusatory gaze, an icy smile playing on his lips. "It seems my dear father drank something that disagreed with him," he said, his aloof tone failing to mask the cruel satisfaction rippling beneath.
"Poison," Djuran muttered darkly, crouching beside Damien's twitching form.
Gideon's gaze swung back to Nirdue, anger igniting within him. He rose, his body bristling with fury. His black wings adorned with royal purple patterns unfurled, their impressive span casting ominous shadows on the stone walls. Yet Nirdue simply watched with a chilling remoteness, seemingly unperturbed by Gideon's wrath.
"I did what was necessary for our people," he said, his voice still detached.
Before anyone could react, Lord Damien gasped as the poison began to spread further through his veins, the pain twisting his features. Gideon and Djuran exchanged a determined glance before lunging towards Nirdue, their powerful bodies moving with the speed of those on a mission.
Nirdue retreated, his wings flapping furiously as he tried to escape the wrath of those who had interrupted his revenge. It was chaos as the hidden guards rushed into the fight, but they were too late. The Djinn was swift, a dagger appearing in one hand, and a crackling ball of magic in the other. Nirdue cried out and his ring flashed with light as he ducked sideways and spun to escape, the room growing cold and heavy with the feeling of evil magic. But there was no escaping Djuran, whose soul and dark magic expertise made him an unstoppable force. In one swift motion, Djuran struck Nirdue down, his lifeless body tumbling to the floor. Wasting no time, he cut the ring from Nirdue's lifeless finger and snapped a few short words. The stone crumbled to dust and the metal of the ring melted into a puddle on the floor.
Gideon rushed back to Lord Damien's side, concern etched into every line of his face. Djuran stood over Nirdue's body, a dark satisfaction burning within his red eyes.
Gideon, his hands shaking slightly, cradled his uncle's head in his lap as he searched his pale face for signs of life.
"Djuran," he called, his voice hoarse with desperation. "We need help."
The Djinn looked at Gideon and Lord Damien on the floor and then to the guards. There was only one way the Lord of the Shadow was going to live, but there were too many people in the room to take that route. Still, he called up a message light, and whispered into it before sending it off to Rialyn.
"Gideon. Send the guards away. You are the Heir, they have to obey you. I've called for help."
Gideon looked up, glancing around the room before his eyes landed on the guards. Their faces mirrored their shock and confusion, Nikolas having just arrived was staring in horror at Lord Damien laying on the floor.
"Leave us!" He commanded, authority lacing his voice and echoing through the room. "Go, now! We will save my uncle. You failed him. Get out of my sight." The guards looked at one another uncertainly before they nodded and started to filter out of the room. Nikolas was the last to leave, closing the door quietly behind himself.
Seconds later, the crash of lighting was heard as Laric, Fionn and Rialyn appeared in the middle of the room.
"Please! My uncle has been poisoned. Please save him." Gideon looked directly at the Fae, his expression pleading.
Rialyn stepped forward immediately. His usual smirk replaced by utmost seriousness. "We'll do what we can," he promised, voice firm. Kneeling at Lord Damien's head, the red-haired Fae turned the Lord of the Shadow onto his side and then placed his fingers lightly on the Demon's head.
"Fionn. Keep his heart pumping and his lungs working. I will deal with the poison."
Mirroring Rialyn's position, but kneeling behind the Lord, Fionn quickly unbuttoned the top of Lord Damien's shirt and placed his fingers on the skin of his chest.
Laric moved to Gideon and pulled him back out of the way, holding him close as they all watched the two Fae work.
Gideon leaned into Laric's solid presence, his racing heart pounding against his ribs as he watched Rialyn and Fionn work on his uncle. His grey eyes kept flicking to the still form of Nirdue, sprawled lifelessly on the floor. The realization that his cousin had plotted such a betrayal twisted like a knife within him, but it was a thought he had to shelve for now. His uncle's survival was the priority.
A soft red glow came from Rialyn's hands, followed by a golden one from Fionn. Both lights sank into Lord Damien's body, and the Fae closed their eyes in concentration. Nothing seemed to happen for long moments, only the labored breathing showing Lord Damien was still alive. And then something dark started trickling out of his mouth and pooling on the floor under his head. His body convulsed, and the liquid came out faster.
Sweat began to trickle down Rialyn's forehead, he gave an irritable toss of his head to get the many tiny braids out of his face, the amber beads clicking loudly in the otherwise silent room. Fionn bowed his head and pressed his fingers harder against the thin chest of the Lord of the Shadow.
Finally, Rialyn opened his eyes and sat back. Letting his hands drop loosely to his lap, he slumped in place. Fionn pulled his own hands back a moment later, golden eyes slightly hazy as he tried to focus on the room once more.
"It is done. He will need to rest, and will likely feel like shit for a while. But the poison is gone." Rialyn waved off Djuran irritably when the Djinn offered a hand to help him up off the floor.
With an eye roll, the Djinn simply moved to help Fionn up instead. The golden haired Fae was a bit unsteady and leaned against his taller form as the world seemed to sway beneath him. Once he had his bearings again, he looked up expecting to see Laric or Gideon. Golden eyes wide, his face drained of color before he blushed and let go of Djuran's shirt where he'd been clutching it to keep himself from falling.
Quirking a brow, Djuran gave Fionn a light push towards where Gideon was being held up by Laric. Then he turned back and hauled Rialyn up off the floor, ignoring the squawks of protest the Fae tried to give.
Once they were both upright, Djuran looked over at Gideon, who was still locked in Laric's comforting embrace. His grey eyes were filled with a mix of relief, shock and gratitude as he nodded at Rialyn and Fionn. "Thank you," he murmured. There was a weight to his words that said far more than the simple expression of gratitude.
Rialyn waved off the thanks with a silent scoff.
"Go," Djuran ordered Laric, Gideon and Fionn. "Leave us to clean up this mess. Give Lord Damien time to rest." His gaze lingered on the fallen Nirdue, the satisfaction in his eyes visible to all of them.
Laric nodded, guiding a shaky Fionn out of the room as Gideon gathered his uncle into his arms and followed them.
Rialyn sighed heavily as he dropped to sit cross-legged on the floor. Wiping his brow, he cast a sideways glance at Djuran. "That," he muttered, gesturing towards where the Lord of the Shadow had just been laying, "was not what I was expecting when you said 'we need help, bring Fionn.'"
Djuran's lips pulled into a thin smirk, his red eyes gleaming in the dim light. "Unexpected situations require unexpected solutions, my friend. And weren't you just saying the other day that Fionn needed real life experience with his Healing Gift?"
Rialyn groaned, flopping back onto the floor and staring up at the ceiling. "Don't hold me to my own words, that's not a fair fight," he complained. Djuran merely chuckled before proceeding to wave his hand over Nirdue's still body. Darkness swirled around the fallen traitor, and soon, all that remained was a small black crystal on the floor.
"Your methods are unconventional as ever," Rialyn remarked, propping himself up on his elbows to watch Djuran pocket the black crystal. The Djinn gave a noncommittal shrug.
"His treachery could not go unpunished," Djuran stated matter-of-factly, his gaze lingering on the spot where Nirdue had lain. "And I can think of no worse fate for him than eternal solitude. At least we managed to kill him before he unleashed his Dark God into the world."
Rialyn shivered at the thought but said nothing. Instead, he changed the subject. "When we unlocked his Fire Demon magics, and extracted a promise for a future favor, I never expected it to be all that useful. But he seems to be collecting powerful mates and friends."
Djuran made a noncommittal noise as he finished cleaning the room.
"How am I supposed to choose a favor now? There are too many possibilities!" Rialyn threw his hands up in exasperation.
Djuran snorted and turned away to hide his grin.
Notes: So the teapot in this chapter is an assassins teapot. They really exist. The teapots have 2 chambers, so you can fill them with 2 different liquids. If you cover the tiny hole in the handle, liquid #1 comes out. If you cover the other hole (sometimes in the spout, sometimes a 2nd hole in the handle), liquid #2 comes out. If you don't cover either hole, both liquids come out in a mix. So Nirdue poured the poison and the tea both into Lord Damien's cup, and then when he served himself, he covered a hole and only dispensed the tea.