Chapter 37 - 35- Found Ryver

Ryver wasn’t slowing down.

Darian wouldn’t blame him. With how angry and determined the crowd behind him looked, even he wouldn’t slow down. He pushed the stallion faster, his eyes still fixed on the mob as he tried to surpass them before they could catch up with Ryver.

There were at least twenty of them, big, burly men carrying machetes and torches, their voices echoing through the trees as they chased after the elf. And the one leading them all was someone Darian recognized.

That persistent merchant from the market.

The same man who had been so eager to see Neria.

Darian should have known that rat would come back for her.

He didn’t dwell on it for long. His mind was already racing, trying to figure out how to save Ryver without drawing too much attention to himself. If he attacked all twenty of them at once, there was no telling how much chaos it would cause.

Darian pushed further, racing against the mob and forcing the horse to run alongside Ryver. The black stallion’s breathing had grown heavier, but it still moved quickly beneath him, its hooves striking against the uneven ground as they tore through the forest.

Ryver raised his head when he noticed him, his face showing a flash of relief despite the way he was struggling to breathe.

"Boy, am I glad to see you," he breathed, never slowing down.

Darian glanced behind them. There were far too many men for his liking. Their torches flickered between the trees, throwing strange shadows across the forest as they came after them. Some were shouting, while others were simply running with their weapons in their hands, clearly unwilling to let Ryver get away.

"They’re a lot..." Darian said, raising his voice over the sound of the hooves. "Why are they so persistent?"

"I think they’re more interested in Neria—"

Ryver suddenly stopped speaking when they had to swerve around a tree that had fallen across part of the path. Darian pulled the reins sharply, guiding the horse around it while Ryver jumped over one of the thicker branches.

Darian sighed.

Of course they were interested in Neria. A Calypso with a tail was already a rarity, but a Calypso who had somehow grown legs? She would break the market. The thought of what those men might do if they caught her made something unpleasant twist in his chest.

Speaking of Neria.

"Where is she?" Darian asked, his eyes quickly searching the darkness around them.

Ryver’s expression changed slightly. "I pushed her into a lake," he breathed, still running.

Darian stared at him for a second.

He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. Neria was a mermaid, after all. She could definitely swim. At least, that was what he had assumed.

He looked back at Ryver, then toward the men gaining on them. One of the torches behind them suddenly appeared between the trees, much closer than before.

"Okay, take my arm, like that time in Taz."

Ryver nodded.

Darian pulled the reins and pushed the stallion forward, but this time he slowed slightly, allowing Ryver to get close enough. The elf reached for him as he ran, and Darian caught his arm, pulling him toward the horse.

For one terrible second, Ryver’s foot slipped against the dirt.

Darian tightened his grip before the elf could go down, hauling him upward with enough force to make the stallion jerk.

Ryver caught his balance and grabbed onto Darian’s shoulder.

"Got you."

Darian didn’t wait.

He kicked the horse’s side and the stallion surged forward, carrying both of them deeper into the forest. Behind them, the shouting grew louder, but Darian kept his eyes ahead.

They needed to get away from the mob.

And then he needed to find Neria.

"Use the Dragon’s presence on them," Ryver breathed, slightly adjusting himself behind Darian.

Darian looked over his shoulder, catching a brief look at the elf’s face. Ryver actually looked serious.

The suggestion wasn’t a bad one. The Dragon’s presence was one of the imperial family’s greatest gifts, a power built around control and dread. It was the sort of thing that could make even the bravest man hesitate, but Darian rarely used it. He wasn’t even sure he knew how to activate it properly.

"There’s about twenty of them," he said, glancing back at the men gaining on them. "I don’t think it would work."

"Come on. It will be like that time on Taz," Ryver said, sounding far more convinced than Darian felt. "Besides, if we don’t find a way to stop them, they might kill us. Just putting that out there."

Darian frowned.

Ryver wasn’t exactly wrong.

The men behind them were still coming, despite the distance they had already covered. Their torches bounced wildly through the trees, and every time Darian thought they had managed to lose them, another shout would rise from the darkness.

He looked back again, this time with a mixture of irritation and reluctant respect.

Whoever these men were, they were annoyingly determined.

Darian turned his attention back to the path ahead, his fingers tightening around the reins.

"Fine," he sighed. "But if this goes wrong we’re fucked because of you"

Ryver gave a breathless laugh. "We’ll be fine"

Darian pulled the reins of the horse, forcing it to stop. The stallion gave a sharp neigh as its hooves dug into the dirt, and Darian jumped off, his boots meeting the forest floor with a dull thud.

"Just like that time in Taz," he muttered as he started walking toward the group approaching through the trees.

He had never used this power on so many people before. It rarely worked when he needed it, and the dragon blood in his veins hardly liked to obey him.

So if this failed, there was a good chance he would have to fight them with nothing but the dagger at his belt.

He wasn’t sure he liked that option.

He was a war hero. He could handle twenty men if he had to, but that would most likely end with him covered in injuries, and he didn’t have time for that tonight.

Darian took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the cold night air as the sound of approaching footsteps grew louder. His hand moved to the dagger on his belt, keeping his fingers around the handle just in case.

Soon, they were face to face.

Him against twenty men.

The group slowed when they saw him standing alone in the middle of the forest. Their torches cast flickering light across his face, and the merchant leading them stepped forward, his earlier confidence returning when he recognized him.

"Zeke..." The merchant smirked. "We meet again."

Darian’s eyes narrowed. "You stole from me."

The merchant chuckled, opening his arms as though the accusation meant nothing to him.

"So what?" he challenged.

Darian scoffed, the sound cold and completely unamused.

"Kneel."

A pulse of power burst from him.

It spread through the forest like an invisible force, pushing against the men hard enough to make several of them stumble backward. The torches in their hands shook as they fought to keep their balance.

"On your knees," he ordered, his voice lower this time. "And bow."

Another pulse came from him.

His chest immediately began to burn.

Darian clenched his jaw, refusing to let the pain show as the power pushed further into the men. His amber eyes started to glow, faint at first, before becoming brighter in the darkness.

One by one, a few of the men dropped to their knees.

The others were still fighting it.

They grunted and strained, their bodies trembling as they tried to resist the force pressing down on them. The merchant was one of them, his face twisting as he struggled to remain standing.

Darian’s breathing became heavier.

"Ryver," he called through gritted teeth.

"Oh. Right."

Ryver finally climbed down from the horse. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the dagger, his expression changing as he walked toward the men.

They were too busy fighting Darian’s magic to notice him coming.

Ryver moved through them quickly, taking advantage of their helplessness as he began cutting them down.

Darian kept his eyes fixed on the merchant.

The man was still standing.

Barely.

Darian walked toward him.

He hated this man for all the trouble he had caused that evening. The merchant had taken Neria from the market, dragged her into the forest, and forced Darian to spend hours chasing after them. Now the man was standing in front of him, struggling against the invisible weight of the Dragon’s presence.

Darian grabbed him by the throat.

The merchant’s hands immediately flew to Darian’s wrist, trying to pry him away, but Darian’s grip only tightened. His nails dug into the man’s flesh as his cold eyes stayed fixed on him.

"You should have left her alone," Darian said quietly.

The merchant’s eyes widened.

Darian’s fingers tightened one last time before he jerked his hand back with brutal force.

There was a wet tearing sound.

The man’s body dropped, but Darian still held what he had torn free in his hand. Blood ran between his fingers and dripped onto the forest floor.

For a moment, everything went silent.

Darian looked down at his bloodied hand, his amber eyes still glowing faintly in the darkness.

Then he let the torn flesh fall.