“Four hours. Any longer than that and I probably won't be coming back.”

“Telal...”

He shrugged. “If I don't have her seen after. Her new moon will be coming up soon.” His jaw cocked hard until a slash of pain slammed up into his temple. If she acted like this now, how would she be during her new moon?

“Yes, Sir.”

Telal hopped down from the small cliff, kicking up black ash that to a human's eye would look like dirt. The smell of the rift sent memories rolling through him, memories of home that he brutally slammed the door on.

“Four hours,” Telal said.

And then he closed his eyes and transported himself to a different world. The black charcoal line of the rift disappeared from beneath his feet, replaced by soft lush grass. He opened his eyes slowly, almost afraid to see his homeland for the first time in a thousand years.

He let out a shuddering breath at what he saw.

Bright pink and white flowering trees, grass as high as his calves and greener than the ripest earth plant. A thick emotion filled his chest and a hot liquid pooled in his eyes. He swallowed hard and knelt down in the grass of greens and dark yellows and inhaled the unique sweet scent of earth, his open hand trailing across the pointed leaves. The sky hovered like a dark ominous cloud up above; thick like fog, the dark sky held a glow to it somewhere between an orange and pink that lit up the land and shadowed it at the same time. That glow was the sun of this world, the closest thing to pure light they had.

Telal stood and looked around at his old home. With a frown, he realized nearly everything looked the same. The trees were the same, though there were more of them now, and in the distance he saw the castle where he'd been raised. Behind him, down several sloping hills was just one of the villages where the commoners lived. That pain in his chest pulled tighter as if someone twisted his heart in their hands like a rag to wring all the blood from it.

He made his way through the field in long, heavy steps. One of the first things he noticed was the lack of commoners, or prolitare, wandering outside the castle like they used to. Hope sprung in him; maybe his brother had taken over the throne and changed the class policies of his people. Though as soon as the thought came, he nixed it. This place just didn't feel right. Not the same at all. Maybe it was because he saw it through the eyes of a man and not a child, but something didn't sit right.

Down the sloping pasture of the grassy field, two heads popped up, headed for him. With a silent curse, he quickly dropped to the ground at the sight of guards. Not just any guards, but these wore a suit of battle armor with curved swords, ones his people specialized in making, strapped to their backs forming an ex. The deep lilt of demonic floated over his ears with the sound of swishing grass beneath their feet as they climbed closer to him. Telal planned to sneak into the castle, not get busted before he even made it there.

Focusing on the soft leafy petals on the ground below him, he called upon his power to cloak himself. Not all demons had that kind of power, but he did, his family did. The voices came closer until he could make out words. He clenched his jaw as he listened in on a language he hadn't heard spoken in so long.

“Do you feel that?”

“Hm, yeah, energy change over here.”

“We better check the fault line. If another demon escaped it'll be our heads.”

“I wish that weren't the truth...”

The guards made their way to where Telal had transported into, and he waited until they were far enough away before he stood, still cloaked in invisibility, and ran down the hill leading to the castle. Built from dark brown and grey stones, the castle stood tall with looming parapets resting at the left, right, and back side of the castle. There were several entrances into the castle, though they had specific purposes; doors for servants, for the commoners, and the big double door at the front for royalty.

Telal pressed himself against the chilly wall by the prolitare’s door. He waited to hear any voices, but none sounded, as quietly as possible he grabbed the door handle and turned it. A sharp metal screech echoed. Fuck. So much for not announcing his visit.

Not for the first time, he wondered if he was doing this right. He always planned everything to perfection. But simply coming home after betraying his people and waltzing in the front door didn't sound like a good idea to him. Right now, he planned to just get inside, check things out, and then, as discreetly as possible, announce himself to his family.

Turning sideways, he slid through the door and closed it behind him. He found himself in a hallway with a rounded stone roof only a few inches taller than he was, which made him want to hunch over anyway. Torches, one on either side of the hallway lit the long path, though not very well. More shadows than light flickered.

Telal kept his steps silent as he slid down the hall. Voices sounded at the far end, a conversation about getting more wine, and he fell into the shadows where the light from the torches didn't touch as two servants shuffled by wearing golden robes that trailed behind them; at least that hadn't changed.

He waited until the voices faded before he left the safety of the tunnel and made his way towards the throne room—the room where his family used to sit as they presided over the other royalty. And of course, that's where his father punished prolitare again and again. He'd heard his father had died, but that had been through rumors some hundred years ago. Though, he hoped it was true.

He passed under stone archways, down long and short hallways, turning left, then right until he neared the throne room. He wanted to become invisible, but using magic like that drained him. He needed to save all of his powers for what might happen.

Only one open archway remained to take him into the throne room. The room where the royalty dined, partied, and generally did 'blue blood' things. Feminine laughter, high and false mixed with the clinking of wine glasses, the metal tap of a fork on a plate, and the voices of the men. He actually rolled his eyes at the sounds; they threatened to take him back in time. The royal males commonly raised the pitch of their voices, which for the most part were naturally deep, in order to not sound like the prolitare. Telal didn't understand it when he was a kid, and he still didn't.

He crept closer to the opening and stopped, preparing himself for his entrance. He picked up on random pieces of conversation. From discussing the delicious food, to buying a new dress, and getting a new slave. His gut clenched. A slave?

Suddenly a booming voice rang out, echoing out from the room and down the hall. “Krishnoe!”

At the command, immediate silence stuttered over the room, words stopping in mid-pronunciation and echoing off the walls like a bell. Silence, the deep voice had said. Telal recognized the voice, but it had changed, grown deeper with age, harder. It was not his father's voice.

“We have a visitor. Come forth and show yourself...brother.”

Resolution came over him. Back straight, Telal stepped into the throne room, ready to face his brother for the first time in a thousand years. At least a hundred eyes stared back at him, but only one pair was dark as a moonless night.

“Hello, brother.”

He left without me.

Lily slammed the taxi door behind her, marched up to Rosa's shop, and banged on it with a fist until she heard movement inside. Rosa peered through the small square window in the door then threw it open.

“What are you doing here? It's late, Lily.”

Lily brushed past her. “I need some of your magic skills. Telal went into the rift without me.”