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Chapter 34

The first rays of sunlight crept through the room’s tall, narrow windows, casting long shadows across the polished stone floor and illuminating the rumpled bed where Olas stirred. His breathing deepened as he slowly awoke, the faint warmth of the dawn tracing over his feathers and the subtle weight of the man beside him anchoring him in the present.

For a moment, Olas lay still, savoring the quiet. He turned his head slightly, admiring his knight soundly asleep against his side. Blonde hair, tousled and golden as a wheatfield in the sun, spilled over the man’s forehead. His features were unguarded in the softness of sleep, a stark contrast to the quick wit and sharp tongue that defined his waking moments.

Olas’s beak curved with a subtle smile. There was something remarkable about seeing Leon like this—so relaxed, so real. His arm was draped possessively across Olas’s chest, fingers entwined in his feathers as if holding onto something he wasn’t ready to let go of.

The gryphon shifted slightly, careful not to disturb Leon but unable to stop his mind from reflecting on the night before. The passion of it had left an undeniable mark, not just on their bodies but on his heart. He hadn’t expected Leon to stay the night. Perhaps he hadn’t expected Leon to stay at all.

Leon stirred, his breathing hitching as he blinked awake. His blue eyes, bright and clear even in the morning haze, met Olas’s. He squinted, a groggy grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You’re staring.” he murmured, his voice low and rough with sleep.

“I am,” Olas admitted without hesitation, his tone warm. “You’re quite the captivating sight in the morning.”

Groaning, the half-elf dropped his head onto the catbird’s chest. “Don’t start, birdbrain. It’s too early for flattery.”

Olas laughed, a deep, resonant sound that filled the room. “Is it flattery if it’s true?” He trailed his talons lightly over Leon’s back, feeling the muscles shift beneath his touch. “Besides, you seem to enjoy my observations more than you let on.”

A spark of amusement flickered in Leon’s gaze as he rose his head. “I enjoy making you work for it.” He sat up, stretching, his muscular frame catching the light in a way that made Olas’s heart skip a beat.

“Leaving dearest?” He asked, already expecting the mercenary to galivant off to find his gryphon pals.

“Eh, not yet.” He continued his stretch, “Unless you’re tired of me already?”

Rolling the eyes, Olas chuckled, “Never.”

“Then whats on the agenda for today, anyway? Please tell me it doesn’t involve another one of your ‘brilliant’ potion experiments.”

Wasn’t that the question, a mountain of possibilities, no doubt there were responsibilities that needed attending to. Although, with the man of his dreams here, gazing deeply into his eyes, any semblance of keeping to his schedule died away. Hell, he deserved it didn’t he? Olas raised a brow, feigning offense. “You wound me, darling. My potions are impeccable. Though, now that you mention it, we could use another round of experimentation. What do you think?”

Leon snorted, shaking his head. “Definitely something else. I’ve seen what your potions do. Last time, I ended up with glowing fingertips for a week.”

“It was an improvement,” Olas teased, nuzzling at the man’s side, it wasn’t hard to get a whiff of the previous night’s activities. “First though darling, we ought to clean up. While utterly thrilling to imagine you going around smelling of victory, I doubt it’s wise.”

Olas led the way into the adjoining bathing chamber, a space carved from smooth stone, its surfaces polished to a high sheen that reflected the light of the morning sun spilling through a narrow, arched window.

He stretched his wings slightly, the motion causing a faint rustling sound, before raising one talon to trace a sigil into the air. The intricate pattern glowed softly, the light deepening to a soothing violet before evaporating into the air. From above, a steady cascade of water began to pour, warm and gentle, shimmering faintly as it carried the faint hum of Olas’s magic. It pooled into the shallow basin below, filling the room with a soft, rhythmic patter. Steam rose, wrapping around them in a comforting embrace.

Olas laughed, stepping under the stream of water, his feathers flattening against his frame as the warmth soaked into him. “For you, Leon, this one’s complimentary. I’ll send you the bill next time.” He tilted his head back, letting the water cascade over him, enveloping him in its soothing warmth.

Leon hesitated for a moment before stepping forward, testing the water with a hand. “Not bad.” he admitted grudgingly, stepping into the shower beside Olas.

As the water cascaded over them, Leon’s glanced at Olas, who was meticulously smoothing his feathers with a talon. “You take this grooming thing seriously, don’t you?”

“Presentation matters, my dear. Unlike you, who wakes up looking like you’ve wrestled a windstorm.”

He ran a hand through his damp blonde hair, feigning offense. “I’ll have you know; this is artful chaos.”

“If you say so.” Chirped the catbird, brushing against him, “Perhaps you should consider my services more often. I could have you looking halfway respectable.”

Leon smirked, grabbing a nearby cloth and swiping at Olas’s chest feathers “Careful, or I might start charging you for the privilege of my company.”

They hadn’t spent long under the magical shower, but the shared morning routine was a comfort Olas hadn’t anticipated. The warm water and steam wrapped around them, making the simple act of cleaning up a bit less mundane. Olas chirped and teased, his voice laced with playful barbs as he exchanged quips with Leon, whose silver tongue was a worthy adversary. Several times as he had sponged his beloved down, they’d gotten wrapped up in one another, exchanging passionate kisses, it was a miracle they didn’t have at one another right there and then. So it was with reluctance that they eventually stepped out, the sharpness of the morning air biting at their damp skin. Leon shivered, reaching for a towel, only to feel Olas’ spell sweep across him, drying away the last of the droplets with the flick of a talon.

“Guess I should find Hekate and Krantor at some point,” Leon muttered as he began to gather his discarded clothes, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. “They’ll be happy to hear… well.” He gave a soft smile, one that Olas matched with a glance.

“You alright?” Olas asked, still preening

his feathers, each one falling neatly into place.

“Course, just…” Leon chuckled, his voice taking on a lighter tone, “Glad things ended up how they did.”

“And to think…” Olas sighed dreamily, turning toward him with a glint in his eye, “Each day from this one on shall be like this. You… me… positively radiant.”

Leon rolled his eyes, his voice teasing. “Need to talk so romantically about it?”

Olas' eyes danced with mischief as he purred, “Should I stop?” His wing swept around Leon, drawing him closer. His beak brushed against Leon’s nose. “Or should I do as we typically do? Have at one another like a pair of gryphons in heat?”

“We won’t get anything done if we’re fucking all day.” Leon’s hands slid up the gryphon’s throat with slow, deliberate strokes.

Leaning in closer, a low, amused growl rumbled in his chest. “Doesn’t sound all that bad, honestly. A celebratory day of making love, oh Parunga would be amused. Though we did just go through all the trouble of getting clean.”

“Makes it more fun.” Leon purred, his lips brushing against Olas' ashen beak with hungry desire.

The warmth of his body was beginning to flood Olas with that familiar ache. His heart quickened, blood rushing in his veins, already teetering on the edge of pulling Leon into another passionate embrace. But nature, in its blunt timing, reminded them both. A rumbling growl echoed from their stomachs in perfect unison.

“Looks like they know something we don’t,” Olas laughed, his chuckles rich with amusement. “After last night, I’m not surprised.”

“Alright, alright, fine.” Leon relented, pressing a quick kiss to Olas' beak. “Breakfast, and then we fuck like Leporans.”

“Oh my, and they do fuck a lot, don’t they?” Olas chuckled, his mind wandering to the image of the rabbit-like creatures, their copious and uninhibited lust.

“Olas…”

“Yes, darling?” Olas was by his side in a flash as he caught the flicker of uncertainty in Leon’s gaze.

“I had a thought…how is this going to work…you and me?”

“Excellent question.” Olas flicked his ears, “One that I endeavor to solve. Rest assured; it will happen.” He held Leon close, rumbling through his throat, “I swear to you, Leon, I’d stand against my father, my house—hells, the entire kingdom—if that’s what it takes. Nothing will keep me from you.”

Leon blushed, “You always know how to spin a line, don’t you?”

“Every word I say to you, my love, is sincere.” Olas murmured, the corners of his beak lifting in a smile as Leon’s fingers toyed with the tips of his ears.

“You certainly have a way with words, jerk.” Leon gave his beak a gentle kiss, hands finding their way to play with the gryphon’s ears. “Won’t other people get suspicious?”

“Quite possibly,” Olas replied smoothly. “But I could always weave a tale about my crippling paranoia. The harrowing notion that only you, my gallant knight, can safeguard my fragile existence.” He paused, dramatically draping a wing over his brow. “How else could I survive without my dear protector?”

Snorting, Leon shook his head. “And when we’re in public?”

Olas’ playful demeanor softened, his eyes locking with Leon’s. “I’ll have to deny us. Pretend you’re nothing more than my guard.” His voice dropped, sincere and vulnerable. “But know this: every word of denial will be a lie. Is that… alright?”

For a moment, Olas feared Leon might walk away, that the weight of secrecy would be too much. But the half-elf only gave a grunt, his lips curling into a wry smile. “I think I can manage, knowing what’s real when it’s just us.”

“And when we are alone…” Olas’ voice turned into a seductive purr, his feathers grazing Leon’s chin. “I will love you with a passion that will make the gods weep with envy.”

Leon smirked, his tone light. “That’s a bit intense, don’t you think?”

“I don’t think so at all,” Olas replied, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Perhaps I could even convince my father to fabricate a noble lineage for you. A long-lost scion of some illustrious house.”

“Why stop there?” Leon chuckled. “Make me a bloody prince while you’re at it.”

They kissed again, the warmth and intensity as intoxicating as before. When they pulled apart, Leon leaned into the quiet, his voice softer.

“If someone had told me, years ago, that I’d find the love of my life in a forest… stuck in a cursed log, no less…” He laughed lightly, shaking his head. “I’d have called them insane.”

“Madness, indeed,” Olas said, his laughter a melodic echo. “Like something out of a fairy tale.”

“And yet…” Leon sighed, his fingers brushing against Olas’ feathers. “It’s a tale I wouldn’t trade for anything.”

The faint tap of talons on stone reached Olas’ ears, bringing an immediate spark to his gaze and a delighted flick of his tail. That had to be Olivia, his ever-dutiful gryphon housekeeper. Her timing was, as always, impeccable.

“Olivia, my dearest marvel!” Olas called out, his voice ringing with uncharacteristic enthusiasm. “You’re just in time to celebrate a rather momentous occasion! Breakfast in bed, if you please. For Leon, honey-glazed venison with spiced potatoes, it’s practically a requirement for mornings like this. And for me…” He paused, his tone turning whimsical. “Perhaps those divine crescent pastries with lavender cream. And let’s not forget a pot of that enchanting citrus tea. Oh, add something indulgent—this morning calls for excess.”

He paused, an air of playful mischief in his tone. “Oh, and Olivia, prepare yourself for the news of the century. Leon and I…” He glanced at Leon with a gleam in his brown eyes. “We've officially wound the tails. Isn’t it glorious? The house will feel warmer with this new chapter, don’t you think?”

Turning back to Leon, who looked halfway between flattered and faintly embarrassed, Olas chuckled. “She’s going to adore this; I just know it. Don’t worry, darling; I’ll handle her swooning.”

When the door creaked open, Olas' heart sank. Standing there, framed in the doorway, was not the familiar face of Olivia, but the stern visage of Isadora. Her usual elegant attire had been replaced with black leather armor etched with glowing runes, their faint light crawling like malevolent veins across its surface. Her fore talons shimmered with an azure brilliance, humming with the sound associated with the kingdom’s energy crossbows.

Olas' ears flattened against his head as instinct overtook him. She had never stormed into his chambers like this, not even in her foulest of moods. For all her mockery, for all her venom-laden protests about his existence, there had always been an unspoken agreement: this space was his sanctuary, untouched by her wrath.

Now, her very presence was an affront, an unwelcome storm that sucked every ounce of warmth and joy from the room. The single tap of her talon on the stone floor resounded like a death knell, the sound reverberating in his chest with cold finality.

"Well, isn’t this just the most nauseating display," Isadora drawled as she strutted into the room, her talons clicking against the stone. Her voice was sharp. "The pathetic husband of mine and his lapdog. Truly, Olas, you find new ways to embarrass yourself daily. I’d applaud if it weren’t so pitiful."

Olas barely glanced at her, a smirk pulling at the corners of his beak. "Morning, Isadora. Didn’t know you cared enough to drop by." He leaned casually against Leon, his wings stretching out lazily. "Though I suppose you must be terribly lonely to waste your time on me." He gave a theatrical sigh, "Surely it isn’t jealousy? I’d hate to think I’ve left you wanting."

Leon snorted, leaning back against Olas’s side. "Jealousy? Of this? Nah, she’s just mad because she doesn’t have anyone willing to put up with her ‘resting bitch aura.’" He grinned, baring his teeth. "Gotta say, Isadora, you’ve got a real talent for making me want to vomit every time you open your beak."

"Darling, there’s no need to waste your wit on her." He chuckled, "It’s not her fault she’s…so utterly charmed by my presence that she can’t help but lash out. Isn’t that right, Isadora? You just can’t quit me, can you?"

"You overestimate yourself, Olas.” She squawked, fluffing her feathers, “Can you not see what a traitorous embarrassment you are to both our families?”

“I don’t care what our families think.” Olas chirped, eyes steeled. “We were arranged for one reason, that is done. If you intend to do something, do it already—or kindly remove yourself from our lovely morning."

“Yea, beat it catbird.” Leon thumbed over his shoulder, “He’s had enough of your shit for the rest of his life.”

She scoffed, adjusting her hinds, “Very well, it’s sad to see you’ve lost what little grace you had. But I’ve waited long enough for that damn fool to finish the job. I guess the old saying is true, if you want something done, do it yourself.”

It had been her behind the assassins? Olas blinked, dumbfounded, she’d stooped so low? "You?" he murmured, his voice soft, “Truly, Isadora, I knew you didn’t care for me, but… to kill me? That’s a rather dramatic way to settle a grudge, don’t you think?"

He stepped slightly forward, his wings partially unfurling as if to shield Leon from her gaze. "I never took you for someone who’d stoop so low. Insults, barbs, and jabs, yes, but outright murder?" His eyes searched hers, a flicker of pain evident. "Whatever bitterness you harbor for me, I had hoped… perhaps foolishly… that it hadn’t consumed you entirely."

Olas shook his head, regaining some of his usual composure. "You don’t need to do this; you can still leave this room with your pride intact." A wry smile tugged at the corner of his beak. "Well, mostly intact. Let’s not make this uglier than it already is."

Leon, however, was less then tactful, not letting the moment rest for even a moment. "Wait a damn second—you hired The Silent Smile freak?" He let out a bark of laughter, throwing his head back before leaning forward, hands on his hips. "Oh, Isadora, that’s rich. Did you think some creepy, overly dramatic weirdo with a flair for the theatrical and zero loyalty was gonna do your dirty work?!"

She sneered, stepping closer, her talons clicking sharply against the stone floor. "He promised results—quick, clean, efficient. And instead, I got theatrics, delays, and that insufferable grin of his! He couldn’t assassinate a sleeping squirrel, much less a gryphon.” Her eyes narrowing to slits. "No more middlemen, no more incompetents. I am going to enjoy wiping that smug little smirk off your face."

Isadora’s lips curled into a twisted, self-satisfied grin as she leaned back, savoring the moment. "You always were too proud for your own good," she sneered, her voice dripping with venom. "And so... predictable."

With a sharp crack, half a dozen gryphons materialized from the ether, their talons gleaming like daggers, their wings stirring the air with a savage, predatory grace. Olas barely had time to react before one of the creatures slammed into him with brutal force. Its talons sank into his flesh, drawing a sharp hiss from him as he was thrown to the floor. A harsh squawk escaped his beak as he twisted beneath the gryphon’s weight, his hind legs driving upward, throwing the beast off him in a violent roll.

Before he could even conjure a spell, a second gryphon leapt at him with a shriek, its talons flashing in the dim light, eager for his blood. Panic flared in his chest, he had never been in a position like this before. They were too close, too fast. He couldn’t cast with his hands bound by the fury of this savage attack. His magic, always his shield, was rendered useless in this chaos.

His mind screamed for him to break free, to use his powers, but there was nothing but the sharp, searing pain of claws raking across his chest. He cursed under his breath, struggling against the armored gryphon, its feathered hide tough and unyielding. Isadora had done her homework, he realized. This was no mere ambush. This was orchestrated.

When at last he managed to free a single talon, he hissed an incantation through gritted teeth. Arcane energy crackled along his fingers, a jolt of lightning striking the gryphon's chest. The beast shrieked in agony as the current tore through its armor, giving Olas the opening he needed to slip from its grasp.

But he was far from safe.

The first gryphon, recovering quickly, bore down on him once more, followed by yet another. His instincts took over. With a quick motion, he cast a bolt of fire, the searing flame streaking across the air to strike the first gryphon in the face. The catbird recoiled, stunned, its head whipped back in a blur of feathers. It gave Olas a moment, just a moment, to rise to all fours, but it was too late.

He tried to duck, but the beast’s weight crushed him to the ground. Pain exploded through his side as his ribs were jolted from the impact, and he gasped for breath, struggling beneath the relentless pressure. Through the haze of pain, his eyes flickered to Leon.

Leon was holding his own—but only just. The mercenary was bloodied, his shirt shredded and torn. He fought like a beast himself, the jagged remains of a potion bottle in his hand, its shattered glass slathered crimson. The gryphons circled, relentless, but Leon stood his ground, smirking through his bloodied lips. Even as he mocked them, Olas could hear the strain in his voice.

"Really, Olas," Isadora mocked, "Is this the best you can do?” Her talons clicked against the stone floor as she paced, savoring the sight of his struggle. "Seems your magic is good for little more than show these days."

She flicked a dismissive wing, turning her gaze toward Leon. "And you, mercenary boy—oh, I’m sorry, should I call you 'the brave knight' now? Or maybe 'the fool'?” Her eyes narrowed, the corners of her mouth twitching upward in a mocking smirk. "Look at you, using broken glass as a weapon. How quaint. Perhaps you should consider a new line of work. I'd say you’re not cut out for this one, but I doubt you'd be good at anything."

"Oh, wow, how original! A lecture from the glorious Isadora.” Leon sneered, “Tell me, do you spend all your free time practicing your villain monologues, or is it just a hobby?" He dodged a swipe from one gryphon, swiping at its talons with the bottle. "I mean, I’m shocked you found the time between all your failed assassination attempts. I guess third time’s the charm, right? Or is it the fifth? Sixth? Eh, I’m losing track.”

He flicked his hair back dramatically, his grin stretching wider, as the gryphons inched closer. “Look, I’m flattered you brought all your little pet birds to the party. Too bad none of them know how to actually take me down.” A gryphon lunged at his throat, and Leon barely managed to dodge, stumbling back. "But perhaps we can call it a draw and sit down and talk this out? All this blood shed is unnecessary."

They were losing. It was a bitter thing to acknowledge, but the weight of it pressed down on him, heavy and suffocating. He fought, of course. It was instinct. But the fight was slipping from his grasp like sand through fingers. He had no time to think, no time to breathe. They were surrounded, overwhelmed, and the ground beneath him felt less like a battleground and more like a grave he was being slowly buried in.

But there still was a chance. One last chance.

Leon.

If he could reach him, if he could just close the gap between them, he could portal them both to safety. All he needed was a moment.

But the gryphons were relentless. Their claws raked at his body, tearing through his feathers, pulling him back toward the unforgiving stone beneath. He twisted beneath them, his limbs slick with effort, but even as he freed one arm, another attacker replaced the first, holding him fast.

Then, a hum. A vibration in the air that he knew all too well.

Isadora.

Her talons shimmering with crimson light. The unmistakable shimmer of an energy crossbows manifested. He had no time to prepare. He had no chance to escape.

The first bolt shot forward; its speed too great. He twisted, trying to avoid it, but it grazed his side with a vicious strike, sending a jolt of pain through his body. He felt his strength slip away, his vision blurring at the edges. Another bolt came, then another, each one landing with a crack that echoed through his bones. His body grew heavy, and his senses dulled.

What strength he had left him, his limbs buckled beneath him. Olas collapsed to the floor in a daze, his vision already blurry and ears ringing. There would be no more fighting for him, this he knew. There it was—the choice he feared, the one that tore him apart. Himself or Leon. The decision, so simple in its brutality, hung in the air like a cold blade.

“Get away from him you fucking bitch!” Leon shouted, having managed to procure a blade, shoving it into one of their attacker’s throats, unable to slip away from the next one to leap at him. “Olas!”

The call was enough.

Blood ran down his feathers, staining them in crimson streaks, his strength slipping like sand through his talons. The world spun, dizzy and dark. But there was still one last thing he could do. One last thing for the one he loved. His body trembled with effort, but he raised his hand, words of power gathering in the depths of his chest. His tail flicked, an arc of magic crackling through the air, and with it, the portal began to form. Shimmering light gathered around his forearm, the very fabric of reality bending to his will.

"He’s getting away!" Isadora’s voice cut through the chaos.

“Olas.” Leon whispered, their gazes meeting, and the weight of what was about to happen hung between them like a death sentence. They both knew, even before Olas made the final move, what was to come. There was no stopping it now.

“Olas…what are you… NO!” Leon’s protest shattered the air, but Olas didn’t flinch. He couldn’t.

"I love you."

His talons flicked, sending the portal hurtling toward Leon. The space between them twisted and warped as it pulled the man away, a desperate, silent goodbye. He would be safe. Beyond Isadora’s reach, beyond the hell they were trapped in. The lord collapsed with a grim satisfaction about his chest.

His breaths came in slow, laboring wheezes, each one more difficult than the last. He was fortunate to even feel them. His body was giving out, and with it, so too was his will.

Isadora’s footsteps echoed in his ears as she approached, her shadow swallowing him whole. Even in his broken state, he could see the cruel delight in her eyes, the crimson glow of her malice.

“Any last words?” she asked, her voice dripping with sadistic pleasure, as she raised the energy crossbow to his temple.

"Leon." Olas whispered, his voice ragged, without regret, without fear.

With a flash from her weapon, Olas Mysticfeather was gone.