Stolen by the Rebel King
Chapter 324: Castles Crumbling

Chapter 324: Castles Crumbling

Alistair began to tap into his own fire magic. Only, as the prodigal son with more than enough years of experience, the result was instantaneous.

And catastrophic.

The time spent between Zephyr, Nereus, and Daphne flying past Alistair, to Alistair coming to the conclusion that his rotten sister was better dead, to him channeling enough fire to raze a village to the ground was only a matter of a few seconds.

He roared out, a sound that was quickly accompanied by a searing heat so strong that the others barely had time to react.

Daphne turned just in time to see a huge wave of fire — blue as the afternoon sky — headed straight for them. Her eyes widened and she instinctively raised a hand, bringing up a tall wall of water and ice to block them from the blast.

However, even that wasn’t enough.

Alistair’s fire had caused the ice on the walls to instantly vaporize, causing water to spew forth from the cracks before eventually breaking the walls entirely. The quick fluctuation in temperatures was detrimental to the structural integrity of the tunnel. It collapsed in on itself immediately.

Daphne’s last sight before meeting ash and dust was the piercing blue of Alistair’s eyes, gleaming and foreboding. He was surrounded by fire before she had raised wall after wall of water in an attempt to protect them from the blast.

"Zephyr!" Daphne screamed out. Her voice was caught in her throat when she caught sight of a huge slab of stone quickly falling down toward them.

"Hold on!"

With a shatter of the glass and a loud boom, Zephyr had blasted the three of them out of Alistair’s hideout. The prince’s blue flames followed after them, chasing after their tails and high up into the sky before Zephyr began to plummet to the ground, out of control.

An unlikely mix of fire and water burst forth like a broken dam, sending debris flying everywhere as the building exploded, flooding the nearby fields. Alistair’s screams could even still be heard amidst the chaos, echoing into the night.

Zephyr crash-landed on the ground a short but safe distance away, rolling a few times with Nereus and Daphne caged safely in his huge wings. Once they finally lost momentum and came to a stop, he opened his wings, laying on his back and panting heavily.

"We... we got out..." he said, looking at the sky. The stars were glittering and from here, everything seemed peaceful.

Only, it was not.

"Daphne?" He tried to call out her name when he received no reply, finally looking at the girl cradled in his arms only to realize she was unmoving. "Daphne? Daphne!"

He sat up with a jolt, ignoring the way Nereus flopped to the ground. Zephyr’s attention was entirely on the lady, shaking her by the shoulders in an attempt to wake her. She was breathing still — Zephyr could at least see the rise and fall of her chest when she breathed — but even that was weak. He touched the side of Daphne’s cheek, only to find it burning hot.

"Shit," he cursed. "Shit!"

He was dead tired. Zephyr could feel his muscles aching. His wings felt like they were about to tear right off his back at any time. However, if he didn’t get Daphne some medical attention soon...

Zephyr didn’t even want to think about it.

A different expletive burst forth from his lips as he casually heaved Nereus up. With his other hand, he gently held Daphne in his embrace, adjusting her so that if there was to be any accident, Nereus would receive the brunt of the impact and not her.

He did an amazing job and was very injured, but frankly, Zephyr couldn’t care less about the horse in comparison to Daphne. If Nereus were conscious, he would think the same, so Zephyr only felt the barest, slightest, tinge of guilt for any possible harm that would befall him.

With them both securely in his arms, Zephyr gritted his teeth and ignored the burning ache of his body, soaring straight for the palace grounds. He didn’t like Daphne’s husband very much but nonetheless, there was no one else in Reaweth he trusted more in such a situation to handle this situation.

He had no clue where Healer Sirona was and Zephyr wouldn’t wish to waste time searching for her when there was someone else readily available.

Zephyr would just have to make do with King Atticus.

"Stupid Alistair," Zephyr grumbled.

He could’ve flown faster but with everything stacked against him, Zephyr felt like it was him against the world. He was carrying two deadweights and he could feel his own energy depleting by the second.

It felt like a grueling few hours before Zephyr finally caught sight of the palace grounds. Even from a distance, he could recognize the window that would be Daphne and Atticus’s bedroom.

The original plan had been to crash straight into the bedroom so that Daphne would at least have a proper bed to lie on while Zephyr raced to the ballroom to look for Atticus. However, Zephyr’s wings had given out faster than he had hoped for.

Exhaustion weighed down on him, working hard with gravity to pull him back to the ground. It was as though every muscle, bone, and joint had been pushed to its limit. A deep, persistent ache settled in, like a heavy, throbbing burden that refused to lift.

Flying suddenly felt like a Herculean task and Zephyr quickly lost his battle against fatigue.

He could only repeat what he did before― wrap Nereus and Daphne safely within his wings, using his own flesh and feathers to protect them from the fall as they came crashing down in the gardens. Soil and grass were uprooted, and the floral arrangement of the beautiful courtyard was disrupted due to the impact.

Zephyr’s own eyelids felt heavy and difficult to lift. His eyesight was getting hazy and even his head felt too heavy to hold up.

The last thing he saw was a pair of black shoes landing in front of him, surrounded by a layer of shimmering dark purple.

Then, there was nothing but darkness.