HE IS SHADOW AND DARKNESS. all he sees, all he knows is night. surroundings have melted to ash; once green shrubbery now dirt beneath him. dust spills from trembling fingertips, exploding from him in frenzied shooting stars, encapsulating all in its path. blue eyes, often alight with mischief, are near black in their newfound wrath. but beneath the widened, vengeful gaze of the prince lies another truth: FEAR. nyx is terrified. his power, bleeding off him in waves, sends dozens of illyrians scattering for shelter. none brave enough to stand in his path. not even the one who had sent him ablaze with rage.
one conversation. a few sentences. a single remark.
some off-handed comment about his family. so vile in its hatred of the night court. not that he isn’t already accustomed to such hostility; the illyrians make their distrust in him very clear. but one male had taken it too far. one moment, they were arguing, nyx fuming while his opponent smirked in amusment. the next, the other’s arm was bent behind his elbow and the entire outdoor training area was exploding in darkness.
he can’t stop himself. every steadying breath releases more shadow, sends him further into the spiral of power he cannot outrun. how many had he hurt? how many buildings collapsed, how many soldiers cowered in horror? he cannot see through the haze, fingers ripping through inky locks as raging tears coats his cheek. he’s been screaming, is about to again, when the sound of someone calling his name catches his attention. faintly, as if far, far away, KAZHEIR’S familiar tone hits him. it STUNS the prince for a moment. not long enough to halt any magic, but just for a brief second, nyx hears him. and that guilt and terror ripping at his gut only tears him apart that much further.
‘ GET AWAY FROM ME! RUN! ’