The burning rage in Valerien was becoming unbearable. It took everything he had to counter the effects of the cursed metal, making both his magic and mind unstable, while the elements of two different worlds fought for dominance within him.
Then the memory of his mother's cool voice spoke in his head.
"Your self-control must be impeccable at all times, or you will be returned to the Source as a failed experiment."
The familiar feeling of resentment surged through him, but it helped him regain command of his senses.
The first thing he noticed was that someone was holding on to his wrists. His vision cleared enough to catch sight of terrified blue eyes and a stubbornly set chin.
A burning pit of fire divided him and Kirin from everyone else, the flames bouncing off the golden energy that covered both of them as a protective shield.
Valerien didn't remember doing any of that. Even worse, he felt drained.
He freed his hands from Kirin's grip. There was a strange, painful sensation before his powers surged back, and the young man collapsed against him.
"Damn it, bard, you can't make a habit out of this," Valerien growled at him.
The bard punched him in the stomach but didn't raise his head. Valerien felt his shoulder becoming wet and grimaced.
"Man up and stop crying, you young fool. I liked you better when you just fainted."
Kirin told him to go mate with a rabid boar in impressively foul language, then continued with a litany of curses. Valerien sighed, steadied him with an arm and looked for Elinor.
She was still lying motionless on the bench, but the High Warlock was walking along the rift, extinguishing the fires with his white mist.
"Marvellous!" he called out happily. "All my theories destroyed in one day."
"Is your warlock soft in the head?" Valerien asked Kirin.
"Debatable," the bard croaked, then finally pulled away and shakily sat on the ground.
"What kind of man is so happy about being wrong?" the Fae insisted.
Kirin just showed him a rude gesture and stuck his head between his knees. Valerien was tempted to do the same, but he couldn't allow himself to show the slightest sign of weakness.
He pulled himself together and closed the rift. The soldiers at the wall cursed and shouted loudly as the earth moved, but the white-haired madman just beamed and stepped closer, shrouded in white mist.
"A Fae created from both worlds. What a fascinating experiment!" he exclaimed enthusiastically.
Valerien saw red. Every instinct in him urged him to destroy this human, even if it killed him.
He swallowed his rage and said through gritted teeth, "I've had enough of you, warlock. Tell me what this is all about, or we'll see how much more magic that frail human body of yours can endure."
"Oh, you'd be surprised," the man replied cheerfully, then patted Kirin on the head. "Are you all right, my boy?"
When the bard looked up, Valerien felt an involuntary pang of sympathy. It seemed to him that the warlock treated this young man as some sort of pet to be punished or rewarded depending on how he behaved. He knew the feeling and was absurdly glad to see the blue eyes blaze with defiance.
"I agree with the demon. It is high time you explained yourself," Kirin said through gritted teeth.
The warlock sighed. "Young people. So impatient. Come. I'll show you something. And he isn't a demon. They are not so beautiful. Not so wily, either."
He stomped off, calling for Owain. Valerien extended a hand to Kirin to help him up, but the bard swatted it away and got up on his own, albeit somewhat shakily.
Something was very wrong, but Valerien couldn't admit that he couldn't remember what had happened. The bard didn't even dare look him in the eyes anymore. So he tried a different approach.
"Thank you."
"For what?" the bard asked suspiciously.
"For blocking that chain with the shield."
Kirin scoffed and just looked ahead, where Owain disappeared through a dark doorway. The High Warlock sat down on the bench, glanced at Elinor somewhat ruefully and motioned them closer.
Valerien didn't dare look at his friend, fearing that the sight of the scars on her throat would make him lose control again.
"Start explaining," he hissed, his eyes focused on the warlock.
"Three days ago, I felt the Veil tear even from miles away on Ynys Mon. At first, I thought this foolish boy had somehow managed to upset the balance between the worlds, but almost as soon as I set foot here yesterday, I found a bunch of those," the High Warlock said.
He jerked his head towards the doorway, where Owain and his soldiers pushed out two hooded figures into the sunlight. The warlock gave them a grim look and added, "They had just hacked one of my witches to pieces on the road. She was just sixteen."
Valerien glanced at the two Shadow Archers stumbling towards them as the soldiers shoved them forward. Owain pulled their hoods back.
Valerien could not stop himself from flinching. Iron burns had left every inch of their exposed skin a mass of raw flesh. Their faces were scarred beyond recognition, and one had a charred, empty socket where an eye used to be. It was a cruel miracle that they were still alive.
Valerien faintly registered Kirin throwing up behind him, but everything else faded as one of the figures spoke in a weak, yet very familiar voice.
"I beg you, my lord. Release me."
"Taran? What are you doing here?" Valerien asked in disbelief.
The Low Fae hung his head and didn't answer.
The warlock replied in his stead, "Their mistress left them behind to set an ambush for an abomination. I assume that is you?"