Parents wove tales of Calix Fearworn, every depiction far more fearsome than the last. So few souls saw him that every story painted him differently. He was taller than a house with horns of midnight black and eyes of flames. He walked on crooked legs in a mangled form, skin a grotesque green and eyes milky white. One even claimed Fearworn had no physical body, that darkness constructed his form, a living and breathing essence of shadows. They were wrong.

Calix Fearworn was stunning in every sense of the word. A figure of almost holy beauty, typical fae perfection. His thinly muscular form lay beneath countless draped fabrics, sparkling silver that caught the violet hue of his cat-like eyes. That violet stretched across his iris, save for a single glint of fuchsia within. His white hair would have trailed behind him as he walked if it weren’t up in a high ponytail, revealing the sharp lines of his face.

Four Shadowed Disciples stepped clear of the miasma seeping from Calix’s form. They were the stuff of nightmares, eyes the deepest black, as if nothing lay beyond but an empty void. The miasma lived within them, a deep purple that snaked through their pale bodies and showed through their skin. Crooked nails thick as blades crept out of the tip of their rotted fingers and pointed teeth barely fit in their too wide mouths. Everything about them screamed wrong and dangerous.

“Fuck me,” William whispered, overwhelmed by their presence.

“Not now, darling. I don’t enjoy an audience,” Nicholas replied because of course he would.

Calix approached. His face remained placate, uncaring even. He stood with grace, hands carefully positioned atop one another at the base of his stomach. His head cocked like a curious deer in the meadow, and yet didn’t sit right, as if his neck snapped at the wrong angle.

“You are the one who killed my Creator,” he said calmly.

“I am.” Nicholas donned his infamous wicked grin. “And you are the fallen Shade, Calix Fearworn. Though I have been hopeful for an audience, I admit that this isn’t what I had in mind.”

“What you had in mind was a battle on your terms, though even that would not be enough for you to best me.” Although Calix’s words held confidence, his tone and face showed nothing. He swept a gentle hand towards the miasma as if he called for a pleasant breeze. Instead, three beasts lurched out of the shadows. Two were the sinewy snake monsters from the other evening and the third must have been the perfected version of the flying beasts. A fraction bigger with wings set right along its leathered hide and acid dripping from its wild fangs.

“If you are so confident, why bring so many to fight against us?” Nicholas earned glares from his companions, even Arden. Now was not the time to agitate the bastard they had been chasing for decades.

“I want my book and I will get it,” Calix replied simply.

The monsters leapt. The air left William’s lungs when Nicholas tackled him out of the way. Surprising, seemingly to both of them, as the fae offered a wide-eyed stare prior to lunging onto his feet. William scurried up, too, clutching a blade far too small in the face of these beats. The monster with wings and two Shadowed Disciples descended upon them. Arden and Charmaine battled against the rest, and Calix watched with calculative attention. The beast hissed acid rain. Nicholas knew to dodge this time. As did William, shuffling behind a nearby tree that abruptly came to life. The limbs snaked around him. He narrowly slipped from their grasp.

A Shadowed Disciple crept forward. His fingers cracked at odd angles, forcing the forest to obey his whims. Branches snapped at William, scratching and beating him. A puddle of acid sizzled a step away. Grabbing a branch, William broke it free and dragged the branch through the hissing liquid. With a wicked swing, he flung the acid in a violent spray. The Shadowed Disciple shrieked when the rain came upon him, eating through his features. William sprinted forward. He stabbed the acid coated branch into the disciple’s abdomen. Another scream followed. Acid ate through his clothes and tore at the corrupt skin beneath. He released the branch the moment the Shadowed Disciple grabbed it. The branch came to life, thorns breaking forth that would have shredded his hands.

Clutching his blade, William went for the Shadowed Disciples neck. The disciple surged backwards, dropping the branch and holding a shaking hand over his stomach that sizzled and reeked of burnt flesh. The black of the disciples' eyes spread through his skin. His mouth lurched open, far too wide, stretching the skin and revealing a grotesque purple forked tongue. William ran before the man shrieked, a sound so high pitched that he whimpered beneath the pain. The forest erupted with power, trees shaking, roots bursting forth, thorns sprouting from nowhere. He couldn’t outrun it, but he could use another to his advantage.

William dashed in Nicholas’ direction. His power flashed through the forest, brilliant coral light and flames. The monster battled against him, jabbing a wild stinger and lunging with vicious teeth. Acid spotted the ground around them, sizzling puddles of pain and smoke. Nicholas must have heard the living forest for he looked over and caught sight of the chaos. Waving his hand, he ripped a tree from the ground to smack the monster across the head. It spewed a sea of acid, almost hitting William, but burning apart the forest at his back instead. William skid to a halt behind Nicholas, the both of them panting.

“Trying to get me killed?” Nicholas snarled.

“Trying to spare myself,” William replied. “Where is the other Disciple?”

Nicholas didn’t need to answer. William glimpsed the woman laying mangled among the trees, limbs broken and clawed beyond recognition. That was one down. Two more on their end to go.

The miasma crept in. It left a vile taste in the back of William’s throat. Even the monster retreated. Calix approached with the Shadowed Disciple William injured. Calix raised his hand. A pulse rippled through the forest, flattening trees and sending them to their stomachs. He couldn’t breathe, struggling against the pressure weighing heavier, crushing his aching lungs.

A wild shout of anger and power burst forth from Nicholas. The pressure upon them lifted. Heaving, William rolled away from the energy seeping out of Nicholas. Energy that cooled and heated instantaneously. His fuchsia light brightened, too difficult to gaze upon. That light twisted into a long form like that of a hissing snake. The head snapped forward. Calix swiped at the form like it was nothing more than a bug. The light dispersed. Nicholas cast fire, ice, and power that did nothing more than irritate Calix. He finally showed something other than apathy. Calix set aflame. Violet light consumed him, towering into the sky. Nicholas paled to compare, appearing as nothing more than a speck. Calix’s eyes widened, monstrous voids that cracked the skin. The smooth voice existed no longer, replaced by a gravelly growl, “I tire of these games. Give. Me. My Book!”

He flicked his fingers. Nicholas stumbled forward, pulled by an invisible string. Another flick and the book appeared beneath his shirt. He clutched at it, wrangling the invisible power. A snap at their back garnered William’s attention. The beast had closed in. Its stinger raised high, pointed at Nicholas' back. William threw his knife. The blade embedded itself into its tail.

Nicholas lost his concentration from the noise and the book slipped from his hands. Calix caught the book. His power lessened, softened as his attention strayed. A crooked smile spread across his face, child-like in nature. He forgot about everything else, running a gentle hand over the cover and flipping through the pages. Nicholas abruptly leapt. The Shadowed Disciple called forth roots that ripped across Nicholas’ arm, but it was too late. He was at Calix’s throat, one hand of fire raised and another bristling with the light of a storm.

William lost sight of them as the beast lunged for him. He ran for the trees. A battle echoed behind him. Blasts of powers, Calix’s growling voice threatening destruction, and the beast’s lumbering steps. William listened for the monster’s deep breath. He swerved to the right, avoiding a spray of acid. His gaze swept through the forest, desperate for an escape. But then Nicholas appeared above the beast with fuchsia light at his back, spread as wings. A sphere of energy pulsated in his palm. The beast dodged, though the sphere singed its side. Nicholas fell beside William.

“Run,” he demanded and held William’s wrist hard enough to bruise. They bolted. Blood stained Nicholas’ lips and chin.

“That blood,” William said.

“Is not mine.” Nicholas wiped it away with the back of his arm and spat into the snow. The runes along his skin faded to black.

Behind them, the miasma strengthened. The fog lurched over the trees. The winged beast lurched out of it. William and Nicholas ran towards a thicker grove of trees where they had to move sideways at moments to slip through. A shadow passed overhead. The monster shrieked above. William looked up. His foot caught on a rock and he fell. His body rolled down a hill, grunting and groaning from every hit of body against rock. He skidded to a halt at the bottom, panting and head spinning.

“Don’t die on me, my wicked,” Nicholas demanded. His harsh touch yanked William to his feet. “I haven’t had all my fun with you yet.”

“That may make me wish for death.” William’s delirious eyes swept over their surroundings. He had fallen into a valley that deepened ahead. The treetops formed a protective canopy, cutting harsh shadows across the land. His eyes glimpsed a cove along the hillside.

“There,” he whispered, limping forward. Upon closer inspection, the cove was more of a thin strip in the rock, shadowed by the canopy and hillside.

“We can hide here. Use your magic to push snow in front of us. The beast won’t notice,” he explained. His ringing mind slowly returned, though his senses felt off. Dull. He probably suffered a concussion.

“We aren’t stopping,” Nicholas said, standing at his back with his attention above. They heard the monster passing by and the forest creaking, perhaps by the surviving Shadow Disciples’ will.

“We can’t outrun all of them,” William argued while pressing both hands to his throbbing head. A spell would dull the pain, nothing more, but it was better than nothing.

“It will see our tracks.”

“I am certain your little fae tricks can cover them.” William grabbed Nicholas’ arm and yanked. “We hide unless you want to lose against Calix again once he caught up. Only this time the loss will be permanent.”

“I didn’t,” Nicholas bit back the lie he could not tell. Growling, he practically dragged his feet to the cove. The trees creaked, signs of the beast growing near.

“Nicholas,” William hissed. “Now.”