He could hear Sheieh yelling behind him but he didn’t care and he didn’t stop. Because the wards on his room back at the cabin, specifically those around the hidden compartments in the walls, had been triggered and he needed to see which ones had been broken into, needed to see what was taken.

He couldn’t remember what he’d put there, couldn’t remember why it was so important that no one else know what was there, but the need to be there right this fucking moment was powerful enough that the second he’d felt that ripple pass over his skin he’d been up and out of the throne and striding from the Main Hall before he’d even been aware of thinking he needed to leave. And he’d said a word to no one as he’d left. Just called in his travelling clothes and changed as he through the hallways towards the front courtyard, scattering clothes and royal garb as he went. About the point that he called in his weapons, strapped them on, shook his hands out, and settled his shoulders was when Sheieh had caught up with him. And had not stopped trying to get him to stop, to tell him what was wrong, to whatever incessant blathering nonsense his Guardian could think of to get him to stop.

But he didn’t listen and he didn’t stop. Because no one should be at the cabin. He’d told the Court that it had been overrun so no one had any reason to go there. He had meant to get back there and redo the wards and Shields and Barriers that Sheieh had drained to save them, to clean up the mess they’d left behind, but somehow he’d gotten distracted and forgotten all about it. And by the Many that had been such a stupid thing to do. How could he forget about… whatever it was that he’d protected like that in his rooms? How could he risk leaving the literal seat of his Qishir’s Court open and unprotected like that for any length of time?

Growling lowly he rubbed at his face beneath both eyes, came to a halt in the hallway just shy of the front doors and whirled on Sheieh who skidded to a stop a foot and a half away from him, falling silent when he caught sight of Relyt’s expression. The Many only knows it cannot be pleasant. 

“I am going to the cabin. And yes I am aware that it is a shit idea, Sheieh, but I needs must go regardless of that. Someone has stolen something from me and I need to see what is missing,” he barked and in the back of his head he felt bad for the stricken look on his Guardian’s face but he would worry about it, he’d apologize and fix it, later. “So I’m going and no one is going to stop me. You may either stay here and see that things run smoothly in my absence or come with me. I care not which. But by the Many’s ten cocks, please stop speaking to me as though I were a fledgling too ignorant to understand reason.”

He didn’t give the other male the chance to do more than blink owlishly at him before he turned and pushed through the front doors, lifted his hand, sent a prayer for safe travels to the Many, caught a Line and aimed for the cabin.

Looking over his shoulder before the Grand Palace disappeared completely he squinted and could have sworn Sheieh was holding a two-way communication mirror. That’s not important right now. Turning away from his rapidly disappearing homeland and the Guardian who had kept him alive when everything and everyone else seemed to want him dead, Relyt drew as much of his power as he dared to the surface and ran.

6 thoughts on “67

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