CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR (34)
The forest remained unnaturally silent.
The werewolves disappeared into the darkness in perfect unison, not one of them looked back.
Only then did the ringing inside the demons' heads begin to fade.
One by one, soldiers collapsed onto the grass beneath them, gasping for air. Others remained motionless where they had fallen, unconscious from the unbearable psychic assault.
Roan, Kael,and, Zaiel, captain varos, and a few others who tried to resist or fight the ringing, clutched their bleeding ears.
Some couldn't even stand.
It was a battle in which not a single sword had been swung.
Yet the losses to morale were immeasurable.
Roan was the first to regain enough strength to stand. Blood trickled from the corner of his ear, staining the side of his neck. Kael wasn't much better, one hand pressed against his temple as he fought the lingering dizziness. Zaiel, swayed slightly before regaining his balance, his hand trying to support his banging head.
None of them paid attention to their own pain.
Instead, all three of his men immediately turned toward the only demon still standing.
Prince Damiel.
Not a scratch.
Not a drop of blood.
His silver eyes remained fixed on the place where the crimson-eyed creature had disappeared, lost in thought.
Roan exchanged a glance with Kael.
Neither of them asked if Damiel was injured.
They didn't need to.
He was Prince Damiel of Avalon.
And even if he had been hurt, he would never show it.
Still...
A quiet guilt settled in their hearts.
While they had all been brought to their knees, their commander had stood alone before an enemy none of them had an idea about or ever seen.
They had failed to stand beside him, their Commander.
Whispers spread quietly among the recovering soldiers.
What happened?
What was that sound?,
Where was it coming from?
No way that was ordinary?
Did Prince Damiel fight it?
He seem to be the only one who wasn't affected?
Did anyone see the creature?
Did they speak? Who had won?
None of them knew.
The deafening ringing had stolen their awareness long before the confrontation began.
Their focus had shifted from the war to the pain.
Damiel watched the retreating wolves in silence.
Then he finally understood.
"I was wrong." He started as silence followed, all eyes turned towards him, staring at his back.
"The werewolves aren't his allies."
His gaze remained fixed on the disappearing pack.
A heavy silence settled over the battlefield.
"They're pawn, being controlled."
He said as the others began to whisper, his silver eyes darkened, as he lowered his voice and continued.
"This was never a war between demons and werewolves."
He slowly sheathed his sword.
"It has always been a war between demons."
Damiel said as the demons began whispering, confusion evident in the crowd.
Only Damiel knew what had truly transpired.
And he had no intention of sharing it.
At least not yet, not here.
His mind went back to the conversation earlier with the crimson eyes creature,
'when I find the key I'll keep it to myself',
'Reyna', Damiel thought. He had to return back.
He finally turned toward the others.
"We're returning."
His calm voice immediately silenced every whisper.
"I'll summon General Varos, my men, and a few Captain in each units."
"We'll discuss our next course of action there."
No one questioned the order.
"Yes, Commander," they all chorused in unison.
Before another word could be spoken...
Damiel vanished.
His figure dissolved into darkness.
Roan stared at the empty space where he had stood.
"What happened out there?" he muttered.
Kael shook his head.
"I've never seen His Highness leave a battlefield with so much left unsaid."
Nearby, Zaiel lowered his head.
His fists clenched tightly at his sides.
For the first time since joining Damiel's unit...
He felt ashamed, and guilty.
He hadn't been able to protect his commander.
Kael turned towards General varos,
"We'll head back first", he spoke his voice retuning to it's usual coldness.
"I'll handle the rest, and head back soon", he replied with authority.
Only after Damiel and his men had left did General Varos slowly regain himself.
He took a steady breath before looking around at the devastated clearing.
His expression hardened.
"Wake those who fainted!"
"Help those who are too weak!"
"Support anyone who can't walk!"
Immediately, demons soldiers moved into action.
Those still able to move lifted unconscious soldiers onto their shoulders.
Others used their special strength to carry comrades too weak to move.
The expressions on every face were heavy.
They had marched expecting war.
Instead...
They had been defeated without throwing a single punch.
Within minutes, the clearing emptied.
Only broken trees and silence remained.
A moment later...
Damiel appeared outside his chamber in the northern fortress, the first ray of sun seeped through the opening of the clouds.
The guards patrol the hallway, back and forth with composure, they hadn't noticed him yet, that gave him a sense of relief, it didn't seem as though anyone out of the ordinary had been here.
He stood before the door without moving.
His hand rested on the handle.
For reasons he couldn't explain...
He hesitated.
Was she asleep?
Had she obeyed his order?
Or had she spent the entire night worrying?
The guards stationed in the hallway immediately straightened as soon as they noticed him, clearly startled.
Their fists struck their chests in salute.
"Your Highness."
Damiel acknowledged them with a slight nod before entering.
The room was quiet.
The fire had nearly died, but the warmth of the embers, still lingered.
His eyes immediately found her.
Reyna sat curled up on the balcony by the open window.
Her head rested against the stone wall. The rays of dawn broke out as they spread across her face in radiant beauty.
She had fallen asleep while waiting for him.
His gaze softened.
So...
She had waited.
Again.
He crossed the room without making a sound.
Carefully, he bent down and lifted her into his arms.
She stirred faintly.
Instinctively, her fingers curled around the fabric covering his lower chest.
Holding onto him.
A genuine smile found its way onto Damiel's lips.
This time...
It lingered.
Longer than it ever had before.
He carried her to the bed and laid her down with surprising gentleness.
Drawing the blanket over her, he paused.
A loose strand of black hair rested across her cheek.
Without thinking, he brushed it behind her ear.
His fingers lingered against her skin.
Warm.
Soft.
Safe.
A quiet breath escaped him.
"I'm glad you're safe," he murmured, so softly even he barely heard it.
Reyna shifted slightly in her sleep.
Damiel immediately withdrew his hand.
For a heartbeat, he thought she had awakened.
But she simply settled deeper beneath the blankets.
Still asleep.
He watched her for another moment before turning away.
Duty came first.
Stepping outside, his expression returned to its usual cold composure.
Through a mind-link, he summoned General Varos, Kael, Roan, Zaiel, and only a handful of trusted captains.
If today's enemy truly was an ancient demon...
Then someone within demon territory might already be working for it.
Until he knew otherwise...
Trust would become a luxury.