The wind was a roar in Damon's ears as they plummeted. He held Alya tight against his chest, his Radiant Veil formed around them to shield her from the jagged shards of glass that rained down with them.
To the soldiers peering out the shattered window of Class 12 with their guns faced downward, there was nothing but the swaying of flowers and the empty courtyard below.
Back in the classroom, Doran Volcav stared at the empty space where the Chosen One had been. If he had a face, he would have been wearing an expression of calculated rage.
If that Chosen One leaves the school and gets help, everything may go South, Doran thought. Luckily, they have no idea why we are here. Even the princess herself might not.
"Grab one student each," Doran commanded three men. "Pick up the teacher." He told a fourth.
Cythera thought to herself: I'll hide my aura by spreading my Eterna to every singe cell and thin air around me. He looks like he's scanning the room so this should work.
He scanned the room. Eterna signatures are low. Their at a low Blaze-stage at best and their fear levels high. No combat potential. Male students show minimal training. So much for a 'High Intellect' class.
"Move out and spread out!" he ordered. "You with the teacher, come with me. The rest of you stay in the class and don't let go of the students you grabbed! Do not hesitate to kill anyone you find suspicious in the slightest!"
A boy in the second row had his hands trembling, ignited a spark of fire-Eterna. The guard's sensors flagged the heat signature instantly. A shot rang out before the boy could even breathe. Everyone covered their ears again. Cythera looked at the blood on her palm from covering her ears
Cythera watched the bolt move. There's something odd about these blasts, she thought.
Soldiers took positions at the doors and the windows. Cythera didn't look at them; she focused on the ice blade forming in the center of her palm.
Lets see if I can take these guys with just ice. She thought. A soldier noticed the drop in temperature and leveled his rifle at her. He fired.
Cythera flipped onto her desk, the bolt scorching the wood where her boots had been a microsecond before. She didn't stop. She slid across the row of desks, her movements a blur of frost and steel. She froze the first guard's legs solid and followed with a sweep-kick that shattered the ice—and his legs—into pieces. Then shot ice directly at the ground to lift herself upward in the sky of the class.
She dodged a flurry of return fire, flipped mid-air, and impaled a second guard through the chest with an ice spike. A third guard raised his visor to recalibrate, but Cythera was already there, shattering the glass into his robotic eyes. She didn't use a blade for the last one. She grabbed the machine-man's helmet and, with a surge of raw strength, ripped the head off with her bare hands. Through all that her face mirrored a face of an author reading the alphabets.
By the time the student she had protected opened her eyes, the room was silent. All the soldiers were down—some sparking with electricity, others impaled by ice. Cythera was gone. On her desk sat a small note: STAY INSIDE. DO NOT CALL FOR HELP. —C
Lior read the note, his face pale.
Mirea took it and questioned curiously "Why would she ask us not to call for help?"
"The school is very likely to be surrounded," Lior said calmly to Mirea. "If we call for help, Volcav will detect the signal and escape. She's cutting off his exit."
Silence stretched for Lior and Mirea while the whole class murmured. "C'mon." Mirea urged "Lets find a way to heal these guys."
Outside, Damon moved through the shadows of the building, Alya still held firmly in his arms. He was heading for the crypts, the same one he took Cythera too when she vomited.
"Why don't we try to find our way out instead?" Alya asked, her arms wrapped around his neck. "You can take those guards, right?"
"I could," Damon replied, his voice a low hum. "But if I do, Volcav will realize his guards are dead and escape before I can finish him. Or at least find out why he's here."
"So what will you do?" her voice trembled.
"Let's just go to the back of the school. I'm meeting Cythera at the crypt." Damon turned them both invisible, his feet silent on the stone. "While we're going... could you tell me why a scientist from Kargarth wants a princess of Sunspire?"
He sensed a guard passing and flattened himself against a wall. When the coast was clear, he moved again. "I'm listening."
Alya paused. "You know... the same way you have your father's core in you. So do I."
Damon stopped for a split second. "That makes no sense. Your father is alive. He's the one who gave me the potion to awaken my powers."
"Well, yes... sorry, no," Alya whispered, her eyes pleading. "Can you just make sure we get somewhere safe first? Please."
"Alright. We're almost there."
Damon reached the heavy stone door of the crypt and pulled it open. Shock bathed his face at the sight of the person already hiding inside. Klaven was sat there on a slab.
"What are you doing here?" Damon asked, his eyes narrowing.
"What does it look like?" Klaven snapped, though his usual arrogance lacked its bite.
Damon ignored him and set Alya down by the door. "We don't have time, Alya. You're safe for now. Tell me why he wants you."
Klaven looked at her. "So you're Alya Varkus. Do you know how many students are getting tortured because they don't even know who you are?"
Damon stood up and walked directly into Klaven's space, his aura flaring just enough to be felt. "Look, let's clear things up. There's no time to be dramatic. Trineum's in a hostage situation, your grandpa is in trouble, and none of us know the full story. I really don't like you, but for now, the past is the past."
"Damon, we need to talk," Klaven said, his voice unusually quiet.
"I really don't want to talk to you, Klaven."
"Didn't you just say you'd put the past in the past?" Klaven asked. "The same thing happened with Verik and Ciela... I tried to get them to come with me, but they stayed to fight the guards. I don't even know what state they're in."
Damon facepalmed. "You should have just stayed in class. As you said you don't know what state their in. For all we know, they might have lost while holding back to protect students and are being used to search for you right now."
"I was trying to help!" Klaven yelled. "But they didn't trust me—"
"Take a good look at yourself," Damon cut him off, his voice like ice. "Tell me if you would trust you."
The memories of the Trineum festival hung in the air—the snapped beads, the boot on Damon's face. Klaven looked away, a redeemed, hollow look in his eyes. He didn't need to say he was sorry; the silence said it for him.
"Klaven, I couldn't care less if you're sorry right now," Damon said. "I need to think. There are only a few people that are my priority: my sister, Cythera, Mirea, and Lior. Whatever you do, just don't get in my way."
Damon turned back to Alya. "Alya, why is Doran Volcav looking for you?"
"The same way you have your fathers core I you so do I. But its not my fathers, I have the cores of the last ten kings of Sunspire in me," Alya explained. "All of them. Combined."
Damon was stunned. How can a body like hers hold that?
"There's a seal on me, too," she continued. "That's why I don't interfere in class. Any emotional fallout could break the seal. I would have purges, Damon... and I might not survive them. You get purges because you grow too fast and also have your fathers core. Though the last ten kings weren't as strong as your father, imagine the purges I would have."
Heavy silence stretched in the Crypt as if mentally digesting what had just been said. "My core, that's what Doran wants. If he has those cores... I can't imagine what he'd do."
Just then, the crypt door creaked. Cythera and Nyra entered, followed by some boys from a classroom. Nyra immediately lunged for Damon, hugging him tight.
"Are you okay?" Damon asked as he hugged her back.
"I'm fine," Nyra gasped. "Cythera got to me first."
"I stopped the men and told the others to stay put," Cythera said, her eyes finding Damon's. "I only brought Nyra because I knew you'd lose your mind if she wasn't here."
"Thank you," Damon said.
Cythera's eyes drifted to Klaven. "Klaven."
"Hello to you too, cousin," he replied.
"Is the Headmaster okay?" Damon asked.
"Grandpa is fine," Cythera said. "I saw him fighting and he gave me the signal to go. He's holding them off so they can't escape, but he's cut off from the outside too."
Klaven stood by the door, watching them. I have an idea. But… noone in this room will listen to me anyway regardless of what I have to say. I can't really blame them though, my actions lately have been quite…
"Klaven," Damon snapped him out of his thoughts. "What happened in your class?"
"The same," Klaven said, opening the door a crack. "He tortured a few people when no one spoke up. When he realized time was up, he left guards and moved on."
"I don't get it," Cythera whispered. "Doran had the chance to kill everyone, but he—"
"STOP!!" Damon screamed.
Time seemed to freeze. Klaven had moved with a desperate speed, thrusting his hand directly into Alya's stomach. Damon lunged to punch him, but Cythera's hand caught Damon's arm, her eyes wide as she looked at Klaven.
"Klaven release her!" Cythera commanded.
Klaven withdrew his hand with orange eterna around it. There was no blood on Alya's dress, but in Klaven's palm sat a glowing, golden core webbed with spirals of emerald green.
"What the hell are you doing?!" Damon roared, stepping forward.
"One more step and I'll destroy it," Klaven warned, stepping back toward the exit.
"Klaven... why?" Cythera's voice was hollow.
Klaven didn't answer. He just stared at her with a look of agonizing resolve. If I take this and lead him away, they can call for help, he thought. I'll hold him long enough. Finally... someone will listen to me.
Without another word, Klaven turned and sped away into the forest, the golden light of the core trailing behind him like a dying star.
Damon looked at Alya. Her eyes had lost their glow, her skin turning a sickly grey as her veins began to blacken against her skin.
"What the heck is going on?" Damon whispered, his hands hovering over her seemingly dead body.