Lycus felt the disorientation of a flash hole, a quick portal designed for only the direst of situations. The cost in creating a flash portal was the life of a bonded Ls'fiar, or fairy, and something in Lycus twisted at the thought. Even his father was loath to do such things often, seeing as the Master prized each fairy like a dragon hoards gold. Even losing one was enough to send the Master on a rampage.

Apparently, a visit with the God of Beulah was a dire enough situation to his father… and this put many questions into his young mind. Perhaps there was something there, something more. When the Guardian of Risia and the sister of Jill glowed so bright with an inner light that rivaled the sun… he swore he heard a voice. It was almost indistinct, almost a whisper of wind he could call a figment of his imagination… were it not for the surety that wind would not be natural so deep into the caverns his father had taken for his purposes while they plotted how best to topple the kingdom from the inside-out.

Furthermore, his father was not prone to feats of mindless panic. He was a master manipulator and a bit of a coward, of course, but one thing Darshius was not was unintelligent. His father weighed actions to get him what he wanted, and he acted accordingly. For such a thing to throw his father so out of character to actually show his fear… that was a feat. Lycus had only seen his father show fear once… and that was when Lycus’ mother almost turned the tides of her kingdom against her then-husband.

But even then, Darshius had only shown a hint of fear before sweet-talking his way back into the king’s good graces and getting his mother banished.

Lycus shook his head, unable to even comprehend how deep his father’s web of lies had snared those around him. And it had finally come back to bite him in the tail.

Darshius had to know what would come of this failure. And as much as his father feared The Master, it seemed he feared this God of the Guardian more.

Darshius trembled with pent-up emotion beside Lycus, and in a pique of anger, backhanded his son without warning. The thwack of his fist meeting flesh reverberated down the gleaming white hall with sconces of flickering blue flame at each ten-foot interval that led deeper into this labyrinth in the twisted citadel of his homeland on the world of Carpus.

Lycus twisted with the blow, letting it land and draw blood, but not allowing his father’s gauntleted fist to break his jaw.

Lycus knew his father needed to see blood for his rage to cool, but a broken jaw was not something Lycus liked, no matter if a talented mage could heal it in a matter of moments.

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Already disoriented by the flash hole, Lycus fell to a knee, feeling the boiling heat as his blood rushed to the spot and then the throb of pain as blood trickled from the side of his mouth. His tongue flicked out to taste the metallic hint of something he was quite used to after a lifetime in his father’s shadow.

“This was all your fault, boy. If you and your sister had only—“

A voice down the long white hall cut off Darshius’ tirade.

“Who has failed me?”

Darshius, despite the way his fists clenched and his fingernails drew blood to quench his emotion, could not hide the trembling of his soul-deep fear.

“Who has brought my enemies victory?” The voice was almost soft, cajoling, like a mother to a wayward child. It made it all the more frightening.

Darshius’ face blanched even whiter, if that were possible. Lycus thought his father might just be white as a ghost.

“Who has brought plans to ruin and my fortress to crumble?”

Darshius took a step back, looking back at where the portal had closed, as if wondering if Beulah's God wasn’t so bad after all.

But it was too late for Darshius.

He whimpered as two golems of stone grew from the rock in front of them, stepping from the ground that bore them.

They grabbed Darshius’ arms, and he drew a deep breath, even as sweat prickled at his brow.

The two men-shaped stones drug him away, even as he protested the rough treatment.

But those two were the least of his problems to come.

Despite himself and all his father had done, Lycus almost felt sorry for the man.

Lycus sighed, his shoulders drooping as the golems took his father out of sight. He didn’t know what to do with himself.

He had done what he could. The rest was up to the Guardian to prepare for the Master’s retribution. For it was coming. And he hoped Beulah’s God could withstand the force of the Master’s wrath.

He was unsure what exactly it would look like, but he had seen the Master level entire nations for less.

But he had a feeling there was much more to this vigilante than met the eye. Seeing the Guardian in all her glory... it made him wonder. He saw something in her he longed for. Acceptance. Peace. Life.

After a lifetime of searching for truth and finding gods made of stone and gold lacking… could this god actually be real? And would he accept a traitor?

Lycus did not know. He thought it was highly unlikely, but Lycus had one thing his father did not—a spirit that hungered to know, even if that knowledge was hard to comprehend or swallow. It was such that finally led to his realization of what his father truly was, the monster who he thought would protect him… the one he loved and ached for approval from could never love him. His father became almost dead in Lycus' eyes at that moment. All his father loved was himself, and Lycus was aware that all the striving in the world could not make his father give him what he so desired.

Lycus shook the thoughts from his mind, unclenching his fists as he took a deep breath. Lycus also needed to prepare before the true war began. His sister wanted her own retribution against him for stealing her kill, and Sixth forbid she actually learn the truth of what he’d done for their enemies.

If that ever came, then what the Master was doing to his father would look like child’s play.