Touch of Flame



Sylas's shrug, as nonchalant as it was, did nothing to ease the mounting pressure. "I did not lie," he stated simply.

Ares studied the man before him, his calculating gaze dissecting every nuance of Sylas's expression. "Perhaps you didn't," he mused with a smirk. "But did you, perhaps, omit certain truths?"

Sylas's face twitched, a minute shift that didn't escape Ares's hawk-eyed attention. "Will you lie now?" Ares asked, his voice icy.

Sylas hesitated, weighing his options. "I am not sure…"

Without a word, Ares smoothly drew his pistol, its cold barrel aimed straight at Sylas. The audacity of the action elicited a frown from the witch. "You tread on dangerous ground," he warned.

Ares's reply was cutting, "You might consider reevaluating playing games with me."

Sylas's laughter held no mirth. "You truly believe you can harm me with that?"

"Would you like a demonstration?" Ares's voice was cool and measured.

"You forget what I am." He said. 

"I never forget," Ares replied.

Now he looked a bit concerned. Good. 

Before he said anything else, he seemed to silently try wielding his magic, and when he found himself unable to, his eyes darted around in rising panic. "What sorcery is this?" he hissed.

Ares's grin was predatory. "Just a little insurance. I like to be prepared when dealing with the likes of you and you enjoyed the served drinks very well." 

Sylas moved to retaliate, but Ares gave him a warning look, "Uh uh…I wouldn't. I always have a backup plan," he added, motioning to the towers. "If not me then they will shoot." 

The sudden realization of his vulnerability washed over Sylas, the dangerous glint in his eyes dimming a fraction. "Your cunning is admirable, but I don't have the truth you seek..." The sharp crack of a bullet interrupted him. The shot had grazed his leg, close enough to send a jolt of fear but distant enough to be a warning. He looked down, a mark staining his trousers.

"Your next mistake will be your last," Ares's voice was dark and laced with danger.

Sylas met his gaze defiantly. "Do you truly wish to cross a witch?"

"If you prove worthless to me, you won't see another dawn to be a threat," Ares retorted coldly.

With a sardonic chuckle, Sylas retorted, "Is she truly worth all this? This woman you so fervently defend?"

Ares's eyes sharpened. "Is jealousy your game? Do you desire her?"

The laughter that erupted from Sylas was devoid of amusement. "I've watched Nazneen blossom from a petulant child to the woman she is now. Her allure escapes me. Yet, there was a time I wished to teach her humility."

"Only 'teach'?" Ares asked with raised eyebrows.

"For a dragon, such lessons are a mere trifle. Yet look at her now. The weight of a century hardly burdens her soul while I am still haunted by her actions. She pushed my only family to the brink of death."

Ares's face softened, his grip on the pistol loosening. "And I'll ensure her past torments remain there. I am sorry about your family but your vendetta ends now. You can't keep doing this." 

Sylas's gaze darkened. 

"I know what you are doing," Ares said. "You revel in her anxiety, don't you? Offering her moments of joy, only to make her fear its inevitable end."

Sylas smirked, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "It is such a shame, Ares. Despite everything, I find myself quite fond of you."

"It is." Ares agreed. "While I am sorry for your nephew, I won't hesitate to end you. It is enough of punishing her now. It won't happen while she is under my protection." 

Sylas was silent for a long moment and then sighed heavily. "Alright. You are not dying." He said. "Well, not for the reasons you think, but no one really knows when they will die, so you could die tomorrow." He smirked. 

Ares gave him a bored look. 

Sylas chuckled. "You have already figured it out. You weren't feeding on human blood." 

Ares frowned. "Because I transitioned?" 

"Yes." 

"What about the fact that I was ill before that too?" 

Sylas smiled with contentment. "You mean you got sick when you began experimenting with dragon blood?" 

"Yes. I thought that wasn't a problem since I already have magic in my blood." 

"Yes, but the magic wasn't active since you never transitioned. When you infused dragon blood into your system, you awakened the dormant magic in  your own blood. You didn't get sick because the blood didn't match. You got sick because your body, now containing magic, was telling you to transition. It was looking to be in its rightful body- a body that can contain magical blood." 

Ares frown deepened as he tried to comprehend what Sylas said. "So … I was sick because I didn't transition, and when I transitioned, I was sick because I wasn't feeding right." 

"Indeed." 

"And you suddenly decided to tell me this now? Why should I believe you?" Ares questioned. 

Sylas shrugged. "I think you already know you will live. You just wanted an explanation. A reassurance. So what does it matter?"

Ares regarded him for a long moment. "Alright." He nodded at last lowering his pistol. "Thank you for the explanation, and… about your magic, I am sorry. You won't be getting it back until 100 years later. I had a witch friend lock it away.." 

Sylas's eyes darkened. "You… didn't." 

"I did."

Anger blazed through him and he leaped forward, throwing himself on Ares and falling back with him. Straddling him he landed a punch. 

Ares easily maneuvered, kicking him away and straddling him instead, placing the pistol right in his forehead and pushing him down. "Don't move!" He threatened. "I had to make sure you wouldn't keep punishing Nazneen." He said. 

"I told you the truth willingly, didn't I? Did you have to go to this extreme?" 

"How would I know you wouldn't become vengeful after this encounter?" 

"Do you think I would have told you if I wanted vengeance? Go on now. Shoot! Because I swear I will find a way to get my magic back and destroy you otherwise." 

Ares scoffed. "I like seeing you like this. The old wise man act is not my sort." He pushed himself away from him and stood up. Sylas looked at him confused and then got up on his feet as well, anger still in his eyes. 

Ares smiled at him. "You will get your magic back tomorrow." 

Sylas looked confused. Ares shrugged. 

"I just wanted to be sure of what you said." He smirked. Also, I really think it would be a shame. I like to keep people who like me around." 

Sylas scoffed. "You will regret that." He threatened, but his tone was light. 

"Uh huh… don't make threats yet. I haven't returned the magic." 

Sylas rolled his eyes for the first time, his mask already discarded.