Alexander
It was finally happening.
Alexander stared at the sun as it rose over the horizon, painting the sky in bright shades of orange and gold that slowly faded into white. He drew in a steady breath of the morning air, though it carried a faint, bitter scent of sulphur, and allowed himself a brief moment to feel the warmth on his skin.
It was a beautiful day to die.
He turned to his right, his eyes searching through the crowd until he found Boaz somewhere among them, standing ready to face whatever would come through the veil.
His love.
Alexander’s gaze lingered on him. He hoped Boaz would survive this. He hoped his sacrifice would be worth it.
Whispers filled the silence as the sun climbed higher, and Alexander could feel the weight of every gaze on him. He looked around and saw shock reflected in their faces. They couldn’t believe he was standing in the sunlight.
Manlius stepped up beside him. He was dressed in a white robe, his hair neatly combed back, every inch the sorcerer he was. Only a pointy hat seemed to be missing.
“You really are something else, huh?” he said, placing a hand on Alexander’s shoulder.
“Yeah, I didn’t wake up the same,” Alexander said.
“I can see that,” Manlius replied with a quiet laugh. But his smile faded as he looked toward the horizon, his expression tightening.
“Can you see it?” Alexander asked.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Manlius said. The sorrow in his eyes tightened something in Alexander’s chest. “I’ll make it visible now.”
He held Alexander’s gaze for a tense moment. “You’re going to feel it, Your Majesty,” he warned. “My powers are going to consume your life force. You may want to stand back.”
“No,” Alexander said, his fingers tightening around the hilt of his sword. “I’m going to fight for as long as I can.”
“Alright,” Manlius said quietly, then turned toward the horizon.
He began to chant, his voice rising and spreading across the field. Goosebumps rose along Alexander’s skin, and the hairs at the back of his neck lifted as if an invisible hand had dragged nails down his spine.
The air around them shimmered. Silver threads began to appear, catching the morning light as they stretched into view.
A gasp went through the field as everyone turned toward the slowly appearing veil. The tear in its center widened, resembling a yawning chasm, but it was not fully open. Nothing could come through. Not yet.
Manlius gasped and lifted his hands higher, his voice dropping deeper as he chanted faster.
Alexander staggered slightly, a sudden wave of lightheadedness washing over him. He forced it down, tightening his grip on his sword as the veil became clearer and clearer until it pulsed before them like a living wound in the air.
Killan came running toward them.
“I can see it. I can see the veil. You got your powers back,” Killan said, a smile spreading across his lips. “Perhaps we can win this fucking war.”
Hope surged in Alexander’s chest, but it faded quickly when he saw what was happening in the underworld.
“Shit,” Manlius murmured as they looked through the chasm.
It was a bloodbath. Demons were being slaughtered, their blood smearing across the veil. And right before their eyes, the chasm began to grow.
“They’re widening the chasm!” Alexander shouted, moving to stand a few feet from the opening. He heard footsteps behind him as everyone moved to flank him.
“Killan, help me reinforce the barrier. If they break through before I lose the veil, we can keep them trapped,” Manlius said, already running toward the edge of the field where the fae had conjured a barrier the night before.
Alexander turned back to the chasm and watched it widen further as more demons fell. The smell of sulphur grew stronger in the air.