FOREVER KNIGHTS: #2 Rise of the King of Assassins

Marshtown, Grier Country

CHAVIAS

The Dread boy was now nearly grown. Still several inches shorter than Chavias, he was already much taller than many others. At thirteen the boy was defiant to the end. Utterly fearless.

He still refused to respond to Radix. He’d stand and listen, expressionless. Quiet as Radix gave orders. But he obeys none of them. Unless I tell him to.

Savage takes no orders. The boy listened to Chavias because he chose to. And one day he may choose not to.

Then I’ll have as little power containing his violence as Radix does now. And though Savage didn’t blink when it came to killing, there was an undercurrent of rage in him when he’s told to. His killing was nearly frenzied.

Like killing is a necessity for him.

Everyone sees it. Everyone knows it. Both Radix and Okine had dubbed him Savage. And even Chavias agreed the nickname suited him.

In all his years spent protecting, training, the boy, there was a part of even Chavias that feared him. He’s still a savage little animal.

Unpredictable. Dangerous. There’s something driving him. Possibly a desire to kill more. Possibly resentment he’s directed to kill instead of doing so on his whim.

The food stores in Stone Peak dwindled and Radix sent Chavias to raze Marshtown in Grier. To take their food stores.

For a dual purpose. Chavias knew. So, his Firoque could flourish and eat well while others in the country starved. And to put strain on the village so those desperate souls might respond to Okine’s whisperings and turn over their humanity for Cimmerii skin.

Becoming part of Radix’s army.

Chavias barely heard the light step flanking him. Savage.

The boy used his torch to light fires behind him. Igniting Marshtown in blinding light. Dancing oranges and reds.

When a man stepped out to confront Chavias, Savage stepped between them and before Chavias could lift his weapon. Savage drug his sword through him in three different directions. His ferocity nearly chopping the man to pieces.

He’s lethal. Chavias watched the boy turning to him. No pride. No triumph. Nothing at all written over his face. There’s something inhuman in him.

A Dread soul.

Stone Peak, Black Mountains, Battling Border

Savage had begun doing something Chavias was equally as disturbed about as his quick willingness to massacre.

He’d begun walking the long trek down to the torture chamber to watch Chavias’ suffering. As he has tonight.

Okine took glee in the young man watching. Thinking his artful skills on display.

Utterly oblivious to what Savage is really thinking.

Savage’s eyes flicked to Okine and then to Chavias strung on the hooks. Saturated in blood. And though his face revealed nothing, Chavias knew the boy as much as someone could…Knew his thoughts.

Savage watched Okine. Studying the yellow demon’s length. Eying the width of his biceps assessing the weak points at his knees and ankles.

It was written over the boy’s face. He’s considering a hundred ways to kill the Cimmerii Commander.

But exceptional killer that Savage was, he’d be outmanned in these caves.

So, night after night, Chavias looked at him and shook his head. No. Don’t move on him. They’ll kill you.

Savage would lower his in ascent and return to the upper levels. The boy’s eyes, now typically light blue, flashed gold when he was incited.

Though he’s grown better at containing it.

Tonight, he looked at Chavias, waiting. Chavias again shook his head.

He’s considering leaving. And thinks to free me. But if he did, Okine and Radix would rip him apart.

He doesn’t deserve that.

He was only a child once. A child who’d only been taught darkness and cruelty. Outcast from humanity long before he understood it. Chavias sighed.

One of the other demonlings sidled up to Savage to speak to him. “You like to watch the torture. Don’t you, Savage? Like his screams. You enjoy it as he does.” The demonling gestured to Okine. “’Tis why you come down here night after night to watch?”

No. He comes down here wanting to kill all of you. Chavias knew.

As the demonling finished speaking, Savage drew his small knife from his waist and in a smooth motion reached to push it through the soft spot on the bottom of the demonlings jaw. Up through its mouth, and into the bottom of its skull.

The Firoque flailed like a fish on a hook. Tossing his arms and gargling but unable to move. Okine’s eyes shot to him. “Savage!”

Releasing the handle, Savage turned his fist sideways and hit the base of it. Driving it in deep and sending the demonling falling backward like a plank. Limp on the stone floor.

Dead.

“He insulted me.” The boy looked at Okine unflinchingly.

No remorse. There never is.

After a time, Okine’s gaze turned wary. As though he didn’t want to look away. “Little. Savage.” He murmured derisively. Moving to put his weapons tray between him and the terrifying boy, creating a small barrier.

It won’t be enough if he decides to come at you. Chavias’ head rolled on his cut and bruised neck to look at Okine.

He looks petrified. He should be.