Hellion's Reckoning

The smell of burnt wood and plastic filled Sylvis’ nostrils as he walked through the streets of Dusk Haven. The once-beautiful buildings now stood in ruins, their windows shattered, and walls scorched by fire. Bodies of soldiers and citizens alike lined the streets, their lifeless eyes looking up at a starry sky. The recent rioting had left its mark on the city, with the richer districts enduring the brunt of the destruction. Hector and Tamil had led the rebellion against Ailog. And now, with his father nothing but a pile of ash buried in the ground, Sylvis could see the true cost of his ‘holy’ quest reflected in the devastation around him.

It wasn’t the feeling of loss he thought it would be, but a great weight lifted from his shoulders. He would no longer be confined in a cage and now, for the first time, he could truly spread his wings. The city would be his. Who else was powerful enough to stand in his way? Inias was on the run, easy to deal with at his leisure. The king wouldn’t punish him once news reached Knivae. Dusk Haven had liberated itself from a tyrant. He would petition his majesty to send aid, hoping to rebuild.

Once the city returned to its splendor and its strength returned, he would begin the hunt for Inias and the remaining Hellions. Their trickery couldn’t go unpunished even beyond their kingdom’s border. The remains of Dusk Haven bore witness to the atrocities committed in the name of power and control. But Sylvis knew it had the strength and will to rise from the ashes. Dusk Haven would rise again, stronger, and more resilient than ever before. And Sylvis would be at the forefront, leading his people towards a future filled with hope and prosperity. The golden age and through the gates of Ambriel.

There was no point chasing them now. He couldn’t slay Keira after Varen sacrificed himself for her, not yet. All his life, they taught him that hellions were beasts, living life on instinct alone. That demon lord had sacrificed more for his people than Ailog had. His father was afraid of the demons around him and never saw the demons within himself. No matter how pure their blood, the demons of the past still lingered in their souls.

Guards scrambled to their posts as he walked up the palace steps. Servants were pulling bodies from the steps and halls. Sylvis ignored them all, carrying his spear as he made his way down the halls towards the throne room. Whatever Hector and Tamil planned next, he needed to be there before they got any ideas. As he entered the throne room, ministers and guards parted from the pointed spear. Just as he suspected, there Hector was sitting upon his throne. “Keeping that warm?” Sylvis asked as he approached the dais.

“As if I would hand it over to a child,” Hector growled as guards rushed to stop the boy. Sylvis chuckled and swung his spear, sending the guards flying out the stained-glass windows. Glass shattered as ministers trembled. “Last chance, general,” He pointed the spear straight for Hector’s chest, “I’ll pardon all crimes committed before this moment. Is that chair worth your life?”

Hector hesitated, shaking as the spear crackled. Die or kneel, that’s what the boy offered him. All crimes forgiven; he had nothing to lose. “Forgive me,” He submitted, sliding from the throne to his knee with a bowed head, “I surrender the city to you, Lord Emberstone.”

As Hector knelt before him, Sylvis climbed the marble steps, and took his place on the throne made of gold and velvet. “This act of defiance was out of loyalty to the city,” Sylvis said in a gentle voice as Hector rose. “It will be honored, not punished.”

The ministers and guards looked on in silence, their eyes wide with awe and uncertainty as they watched this new ruler ascend to power. In a commanding voice that echoed through the grand hall, Sylvis addressed the crowd. “Relax, all of you,” he declared, his gaze sweeping over the room. “I have slain my father, avenged this city, and tonight a great darkness has fled our land,” Sylvis declared, his gaze sweeping over the room.

“Dusk Haven will shine brighter than ever before,” Sylvis proclaimed, his voice resonating with authority. The gathered crowd listened intently; their hope renewed by the young ruler’s words. Sylvis knew that rebuilding the city would not be a simple task, but he was determined to see it through. To right his father’s wrongs. “You’ve all heard the phrase, beauty from ashes,” He continued, inviting the crowd to come closer. “Dusk Haven will not only rise from these ashes but soar to greater heights than before. The gods will look down on it in envy and awe.”

The speech was a little dramatic, but they needed something. He needed to show them he wasn’t the man his father was. It was the same flowery language his father would use, but at dawn tomorrow, he would honor those words. Sylvis would stand beside them, pounding nails and bringing food. They deserved better than his father and he swore a silent oath to be the king Nightfang Hallow deserved.