Chapter 264: Dreams Become Reality

Vorren’s hand stayed on the latch of the door, paused from the shock running through his body.

His black wings were half-open and shaking against his wikl.

Up close, without the dream inflating him, he looked smaller. Still dangerous in the way a cornered fighter was dangerous, but the confidence from the throne that his mind had created in the dream was gone.

All that was left was a man with his system refusing to obey him.

Sweat sat on his bald scalp under the dark feathers. His system screens kept stuttering at the edge of his vision, half-broken from whatever the dream had done to him. Each failed refresh made his breathing shorter.

Kalon did not move closer yet.

"You don’t need to die here," he said in a calm voice.

Vorren’s eyes flicked to the door, then back.

"What?"

"Leave Caelum Spire. Take your people off the east rise. Stop hitting the anchors and attacking his people. I’ve damaged you enough already. If I don’t have to take your life, I’d like to avoid doing it."

Silence filled the room for a second.

Outside, distant wingbeats moved through the night as Vorren’s men kept their watch routes, unaware their leader was already finished in every way that mattered.

A metal sign somewhere below the window knocked against stone in the wind.

"You break into my sleep, ruin my system, stand in my room, and now you offer me a way out?" Vorren asked. His voice was rough. "Why?"

"Because killing weighs heavily on my conscience, I’m more used to fights that end with a death prevention field stepping in." Kalon said. "A permanent retreat works just as well as killing you. Your men will see you as the coward you are, and the islands people will be safe."

Vorren swallowed. The fear was still plain on his face, but calculation moved under it. He nodded once, sharp and small.

"Fine. I’ll leave. I’ll pull them out before morning."

"Good."

Kalon shifted his weight as if the conversation was over. He even glanced toward the window like the city outside was safe now.

Vorren moved when he saw that the man’s attention was elsewhere.

The knife came from under the bed plate, short and ugly, aimed fast at Kalon’s side. It was a clean attempt for a man with a damaged system. He even managed to muster up what little energy he could in his system to use a skill linked to no affinity, but making the stab more forceful.

Kalon let it hit.

Steel punched into him just under the ribs. Pain flared bright and immediate. Vorren’s eyes widened with ugly relief, already starting to twist the blade.

Astral Counter answered.

It was the first active skill Kalon had ever learned, and it still worked best in situations like this.

The incoming force locked, reversed, and left Kalon’s body as clean redirected power.

He sent it straight into Vorren’s chest with an open palm.

There was no explosion, simply a hard, precise transfer of force.

Vorren’s face went blank. The knife hand lost strength. The blade slid free of Kalon’s side as the raider’s knees gave out.

His heart had stopped under the returned force, shut down in one tight impact.

Black wings folded wrong on the way down. He hit the floor once and did not move again. The stuttering system light at the edge of his vision died with him.

Kalon stood over him and pressed a hand to his own wound.

Blood warmed his shirt. The cut was real, but manageable. He breathed through the first wave of pain, then let Absolute Mend close the worst of it until the bleeding slowed and the edges of the cut drew tight.

In seconds, the wound was completely healed.

Vorren’s body stayed still on the boards. That could not be healed.

He looked at the dead raider for a long moment.

A retreat would have been cleaner. The stab had made that path impossible.

Kalon sighed once, quiet and tired, and initiated the short travel hop back across the islands.

...

Seraphina was still on the edge of her home platform when he appeared.

Her white wings opened halfway in surprise, then settled when she recognised him. Her eyes dropped to the dark stain on his shirt and sharpened.

"You’re hurt."

"It’s already healed," Kalon said. "Vorren Shadewing is dead."

Seraphina stared at him.

"Dead? Are you sure?"

"He agreed to leave, then tried to knife me when he thought I was finished talking. I ended it. His heart stopped. The island is without him now."

Wind moved across the platform and pulled at her silver hair. Below them, island lights scattered through the dark in quiet layers.

Caelum Spire still sat dim in the distance, but the shape of the problem had changed.

Now it’s main problem was the fact it was crumbling. A problem that Kalon would someday fix with Worldforge.

"What about his men?" she asked.

"They’ll feel the gap by morning," Kalon said. "Without him, the raids lose their leader. The pressure on the supply routes should drop. Your people could even fight back and win. The enemy will be disorganised."

Seraphina’s hands curled at her sides, then loosened. Relief came first. After it came the practical weight of a city-island that still needed stabilising, still needed work, but no longer had a black-winged raider sleeping in its captured rooms.

"Once again you have proved to be a man that lives up to his word. A capable man... No, the most capable man I have ever met. Once again I find myself not knowing how to repay you."

Kalon’s mind flashed back to the memory of Seraphina pleasuring him with her breasts.

It was the only time he had been sexually involved, and it was a great time.

He wondered whether he should ask for such a reward again, but then decided against it. He didn’t wish to seem desperately lustful.

Instead, he placed a hand on the queen’s feathered shoulder.

Her grey eyes widened at the surprisingly soft gesture.

"Not all deeds need repaying," Kalon said with a smile on his face. "Consider it a helping hand from a friend."