Chapter 50 – A Duel Above the Heavens II

Prince Aerion’s mocking laughter echoed through the clouds, adding to Shawn’s growing frustration. “Having trouble finding me, aren’t you?” Prince Aerion taunted, his voice seeming to come from everywhere and nowhere all at once. “These clouds are my domain! Here, I am the hunter—and you, Shawn, are nothing more than prey.”

Shawn gritted his teeth, feeling the sting of those words. He never had experience like this, which made him outmatched. His usual adaptability was faltering in the face of Prince Aerion’s mastery of the skies. But he refused to let frustration overtake him. “He’s using the clouds to his advantage,” Shawn muttered to himself. “I need to turn it around, or it will turn bad soon.”

The battle raged in the skies, with Shawn constantly adjusting his tactics to match the unpredictability of Prince Aerion’s aerial assaults. After enduring several furious strikes, Shawn realised the only way to sense the prince within the vast clouds was through the fragments of the sword embedded in him. He tapped the eagle and whispered, “Be ready.” Closing his eyes, he focused on the faint pull of the fragments within Prince Aerion across the endless sky.

Sensing that Shawn was preparing something, Prince Aerion seized the moment to unleash a devastating attack. He soared high into the clouds, then burst forth, diving straight down with wings sharpened like blades, aimed directly at Shawn. But Shawn had already sensed his location the moment he began tracking the fragments. He tapped the eagle again. With a sharp screech, the bird dove slightly, then surged upward to meet the prince head-on.

Prince Aerion caught the manoeuvre but pressed forward without hesitation. Eyes closed still, Shawn let instinct take over as he raised his glaive to counter the prince’s strike.

At the perfect moment, Prince Aerion’s wings were mere inches from delivering a devastating strike, Shawn swung his glaive to meet the assault head-on. The clash of glaive against wing sent shock-waves rippling through the sky. The impact was so powerful that it dispersed the surrounding clouds, blowing them away and revealing the battlefield with a clear sky. The area that had been thick with cloud and confusion was now stark and visible, exposing both combatants to the open air.

The force of the clash sent both Shawn, sitting on the back of the eagle and Prince Aerion spiralling away from each other, spinning uncontrollably as they fought to regain their balance. After a few disorienting rotations, Shawn, with his glaive still gripped tightly, and the eagle managed to stabilise. On the other side, Prince Aerion flared his wings, steadying himself. His eyes darted around the now-empty skies, realising his cloud cover had completely vanished.

Frustration etched across Prince Aerion’s face. He knew his advantage—the ability to strike unseen from the clouds—had gone. Shawn, sensing Prince Aerion’s growing agitation, couldn’t resist a taunt. “Looks like I found you… And it seems you’ve run out of hiding spots,” Shawn called out, his voice carrying across the now-clear skies.

Prince Aerion bit his lip, his frustration turning into cold resolve. He looked upward, squinting against the midday sun now blazing in the centre of the sky. He had one last strategy. With a powerful beat of his wings, Prince Aerion soared even higher, ascending toward the sun. The blinding light would give him the cover he needed now that the clouds were gone.

The eagle screeched in response, sensing the prince’s movement, and Shawn urged the bird forward, pursuing Prince Aerion into the blinding sunlight. As they climbed higher, the intensity of the sun increased, making it nearly impossible to see the prince clearly. Shawn squinted, trying to focus, but the brightness overwhelmed his vision. Even worse, the eagle’s sharp eyesight—normally an asset—was more sensitive than Shawn’s, making it difficult for the creature to navigate in the harsh glare. They were flying blind.

Suddenly, Shawn’s instincts screamed at him. Without even thinking, he raised his glaive just in time, feeling a massive impact as it connected with something fast and sharp—the prince’s wings. Prince Aerion had planned his ambush perfectly, diving from above where the sun masked his approach, intending to strike when Shawn and the eagle were most vulnerable. But Shawn’s instincts had saved him from a lethal blow.

Though Shawn had successfully parried the prince’s attack, Prince Aerion wasn’t finished. His wings flared wide, aiming not only to strike Shawn but to deliver a simultaneous cut to the eagle, his companion who betrayed him. His plan half-succeeded. While Shawn’s glaive countered the blow meant for him, the prince’s other wing sliced deep into the eagle’s flesh, cutting through its wing in a vicious arc. The eagle let out a screech of pain, its wing now damaged and bleeding, throwing both it and Shawn into a wild, uncontrolled spin.

“Damn it!” Shawn growled, gripping the eagle’s feathers tightly as they plummeted. The bird struggled to stabilise itself, but the damage was too severe. The once-majestic creature was spinning, falling uncontrollably, with Shawn barely managing to hold on.

Prince Aerion continued his rapid dive, his expression triumphant, believing he had accomplished at least one of his missions. He had cut deep into the eagle’s wing, and now his opponent was spiralling toward the earth, seemingly at his mercy. The prince’s gaze flickered with a mix of anger and satisfaction as he watched the scene unfold below. “That traitor deserves to die,” Prince Aerion said with a loud laugh, as his wings cut through the air with terrifying speed as he descended further. “And along with that traitor goes the traveller.”

As Shawn spun wildly alongside the eagle, his heart filled with fury and sorrow. The eagle’s eyes, glazed with pain, met his, and in that moment of silent understanding, Shawn made a promise: “I will get justice for you.” His resolve hardened. His grip on the glaive tightened, and his gaze fixed on Prince Aerion, who was diving down ahead, smug in the belief that his plan had worked. Shawn pushed off the eagle, launching himself into a free-fall. His body cut through the air with terrifying speed, aided by the sharp edge of his glaive, which he angled forward. The force of his dive created shock-waves that rippled through the sky, the sheer velocity of his descent faster, making the air around him roar.

As Prince Aerion, savouring his supposed victory, glanced upward with a smile, fully expecting to see nothing but a falling eagle and a defeated Shawn. Instead, his smug grin vanished in an instant, his eyes widening in horror as Shawn’s glaive sliced clean through one of his wings. The razor-sharp blade severed the limb as if it were nothing, sending the prince into an uncontrolled spin. With an aggressive spin, both warriors plummeted toward a gaping open roof of Prince Aerion’s castle.

“Nooo! Impossible!” Prince Aerion shouted in pain, and his thoughts scrambled as his body spiralled uncontrollably toward the castle below. With only one wing, he couldn’t stabilise himself, and his body careened toward the ground. The realisation that Shawn had turned his own arrogance against him flooded his mind in the brief seconds before impact.

After severing Prince Aerion’s wings, Shawn plummeted even faster, hurtling through an open roof and into the castle of what looks like a throne room. He slammed upside down onto a massive, overturned throne, bones jarring with the impact. His glaive slipped from his hands, skidding across the floor before dissolving into dark blue smoke and sinking back into his body. Dust and splintered wood erupted around him, smoke and debris twisting violently from the collision.

Then, with a sickening thud, Prince Aerion struck the floor in a chaotic fall, unable to stabilise himself after losing a wing. He crashed only a few feet from the throne, the impact smashing through the stone tiles with a bone-crunching crack that sent tremors across the hall. Pain tore through him as he coughed blood, his body broken, blood pooling quickly beneath him. His wings—one severed, the other hanging limp—were useless now. He hacked up more blood, barely able to move, bones shattered, his once-majestic form reduced to a crumpled heap of agony. The spreading pool of blood was slowly drawn into his feathers of his wings, dyeing them a vivid, unnatural red.

Dark blue smoke oozed from Shawn’s body, curling around him on the floor like a living mist. Struggling to lift himself from the wreckage of the throne, the sensation of power surged within him, and his body felt a strange energy coursing through his veins. The remnants of his former self seemed to dissolve, replaced by something colder, more ruthless; his eyes, distant and unfeeling, betrayed no humanity. He was no longer in control. Shawn, disoriented from the crash, stood up but staggered at his feet, as dark blue smoke continued to leak from him as he slowly approached the shattered opening.

With eerie calm, Shawn walked toward Prince Aerion, who lay groaning in pain. He reached down, grabbing the prince by his remaining wing and dragging him across the floor. The prince gasped, every movement sending waves of agony through his broken body. Blood smeared the floor in a crimson trail as Shawn, emotionless, hauled the prince toward the massive throne at the centre of the room with brutal force, the prince’s body colliding with the large chair, sending him crashing down to the floor in a heap of pain. The throne loomed above him as if mocking his fall from grace. Prince Aerion’s breathing came in ragged gasps, each one a struggle against the overwhelming pain.

As Shawn approached, his gaze fell upon Prince Aerion’s broken glaive, lodged against the wall behind the throne. It shimmered ominously, and without a word, Shawn extended his hand, and the weapon responded to his call. It vibrated and pulled itself free from the wall, spinning through the air before landing in Shawn’s grip. Without hesitation, Shawn used Prince Aerion’s own glaive to impale the remaining wing, pinning it to the wall behind the throne, locking the prince in place. The prince screamed in agony, his voice echoing through the grand hall.

Prince Aerion let out a primal scream of agony. Shawn stood over him, an intimidating figure shrouded in dark blue smoke that curled around him, an ethereal aura of raw power emanating from his very being. As he extended his hand downward, a sword materialised from the mist and emerged, his fingers wrapped around the hilt. The blade appeared to be the embodiment of the force that had taken over him. The dark blue smoke continued to billow from his body, filling the room with an eerie, unnatural mist.

He pressed the sword against Prince Aerion’s throat, the cold steel cutting into his skin. Blood trickled from the prince’s mouth as his eyes widened in disbelief and fear. “You’re… different… from the man I fought moments ago,” he rasped, his voice weak, trembling. Shawn leaned closer, his voice low. “The fragment. Give it to me… and I will kill you…as a mercy.”

Just then, the heavy doors to the throne room burst open. Selena and Makara rushed in, their eyes wide in shock as they took in the scene before them. Their expressions shifted from confusion to alarm.

“SHAWN!!!” Makara’s voice thundered through the room, filled with desperation.