the captured king

The angel was holding me back. For all my curses and pleadings Xavael would not release the grip around my chest.

"Yes. I know they are your children. But that is what she wants us to do. It is a trap, Bloodwing!"

My gaze never left the stinger of the Wasp Queen as she chased after us with roaring wings too fast to see. Impaled upon that jagged ichor-smeared barb the size of of a tree trunk was a red neko with the horns and wings of a royal demon. Tatters of crimson robes clung to him still solely from the force of the wind.

Insult upon injury, the neko's crown fit snugly upon the very tip of the stinger, shining beneath a translucent bubble of honey-tinted venom flowing from the end.

Eight of the children that composed the Vortex, along with the usurper Marcus. What has she done to them?

His wings flailed helplessly with the movements of his captor. His eyes opened as he struggled for breath. His features were blurring. Glimpses of a human face. Two sets of hands. Three and four legs dangling. Two again. The magic holding them together as a collective was starting to unravel. A sign that their deaths were near if we didn't do something fast.

"Xavael! I have a plan..."