“A lost soul will always look for a spark of the familiar, it clings to it, hoping that one spark is enough to guide it home.”
Alec had no idea how he’d ended up where he was now, no idea at all, he remembered being at the Seelie Court at request of the Clave, a small altercation pushing him way too close to an oddly gleaming fountain. He wasn’t wet now, so he couldn’t have fallen into it, and in any other situation figuring out what was going on would be his primary– In any situation that wasn’t a fight, that was.
Not knowing where he had landed himself was one thing, but Alec would recognize a hunt anywhere, with or without an Eidolon sprinting right past him in a mad dash. There was no need to think after that, no point in figuring things out, there was a problem and it had to be dealt with, so it was second nature for the archer to reach for his bow, taking his aim and reducing the demon to ashes with two quick shots.
Steps caught up with him before he could even put his weapon down, a tall man reached the spot where he had been standing. Alec couldn’t remember even seeing the guy before, though his face was painfully familiar– Never mind that, the man had a seraph blade in hand, nephilim, and the two of them seemed to be the only ones of such kind amidst what Alec was pretty sure to be an Eidolon nest.
“Take the right,” he spoke hastily, instinct and training kicking in as another arrow was nocked into place, “I’ll cover your back.”