Dax and the Prince

The young prince was spoiled. So much so that when he was a scant hundred years of age, he had three wives, seventy servants, and a castle all his own. Not to mention items to fill that castle, the things his father owned, and the entire continent at his disposal.
But he was still unsatisfied. He wanted more. And he would do whatever it took to get it. That was where I came in. I was his personal assistant/mercenary/bodyguard. A long title for someone of my stature. After all, I'm only a few hundred years older than Prince Sven (I look about the equivalent of a thirty year old human), still a child by demon standard.
But that is what makes me good at what I do. I spent thirty years training my body, served in the military for seventy years, and learned to use any weapon as long as it could shoot a bullet or hold and edge. But nothing had prepared me for the demanding position I now had.
"Get me my wife, Carna!"
I winced as the Prince's loud voice echoed across the cavernous room. For a kid, his lungs were powerful. Probably from all that yelling.
The servant obeyed like a whipped puppy. I wondered briefly what Carna had done this time, before I remembered. She'd done the visiting minister of the continent of Herthania.
Carna entered, having the audacity to look unashamed. She knew why she had been summoned. After all, it was I who had caught her and the minister in the act. And anything I saw, Prince Sven heard about.
Hard order to keep, that one.
But it hardly surprised me that Carna would choose another to bed with. After all, her husband looked like a human teenager, possibly a man of twenty. Hardly fitting for a woman of a thousand years and beauty beyond the Queen herself. To her, Prince Sven was a spoiled baby.
"Carna," Prince Sven said sternly, though it just sounded pathetic to me. "Do you not deny what you've done?"
Carna looked positively innocent then. "What is it that I am accused of?"
Sven slammed his fist against the arm of his throne. "You know what you have done!" he snapped. "You slept with that Herthanian filth!"
"Well I need to satisfy some urges that you are too small to understand," she said haughtily.
I winced and placed a hand on the dagger in my belt. It was my favorite, with an ebony etched blade and hilt. It also held a secret power within its deadly edge.
Carna's words were a mistake not easily wormed away from. Insulting the Prince was suicide. Carna was bold, I'll give her that, but she was stupid.
And soon she would be dead.
Perhaps she knew this. Perhaps Carna wanted to be free of Sven's bonds any way that was necessary. Even in death.
But at least she gave me some amusement. Seeing Prince Sven's eyes grow wide and his face flush bright red in anger was a memory I would look back on with fondness.
"Dispose of her, Dax."
The familiar command fell easily from Prince Sven's lips. I was already moving, dashing toward Carna with my ebony dagger in hand. Her throat was split wide before she could gasp in surprise. Blood trickled down her pale throat as I plunged the blade into her chest before she could blink at her first wound. Either one would have been fatal alone, but Prince Sven never wanted a chance that any he deemed unworthy of life could come back. Demons have a tendency to regenerate if their heads remain intact and their hearts still beat.
I felt the power of my dagger as it drank the blood of my victim. As it did, I felt the headache caused by Sven's yelling subside. The Black Fang lived up to its vamperic legend once more.
Carna fell to the floor, a small pool of blood spilling underneath her. I sheathed my dagger and went back to my post beside Prince Sven.
"She was a waste," I murmured quietly.
"She was a whore," Sven said.
I nodded in agreement. It was all I could do. The other side effect of the Black Fang had hit me. It induced a bloodlust like no other. Just the sight of Carna lying dead on the floor with blood covering her breast was enough to give me a hard on.
"Spread a message," Sven said. "I need a replacement wife. One that will not sleep with other men."
I failed to mention that the minister of Herthania was a female, but it was an easy mistake. They looked like the men, beards and all.
I nodded and started to fulfill my duty. As I walked past Carna's body, Prince Sven called out to me.
"And make sure she's beautiful!"
I nodded and left the Prince to find a servant to pass the news on to. Then I went to find a place to relieve myself of the distraction of my arousal. A servant was my victim, and I left him bleeding and crying on the floor of the kitchens. But I didn't care. I had satiated my hunger.
Yes, the Prince was spoiled. And I knew it was time to teach him a lesson.

The women had to come. At the bidding of their Prince, they had to obey or face the consequences. So a thousand women from fifty to five thousand years old showed up, passing one by one through the doors of the castle. And one by one, they stripped to their bare skin for the Prince to inspect. He passed by the first few hundred with barely a glance. But then one caught his eye.
She was a petite thing, with fiery red hair that hung to her waist in waves. She had a pretty face and large green eyes.
"What is your name?" asked Sven.
"Shezka," she replied in a small voice that spoke of fear and awe.
"Send the others away," Sven commanded. "I will have this one."
The wedding was extravagant, as expected. The next step in their marriage was to spend the next week together, not separated for a moment. It was a standard practice for newlyweds. The first night of marriage was supposed to be spent with family. The second was spent with friends. The next four were spent alone and the seventh day was for consummation. Demon women had to feel comfortable if they were to bear children. But of course, Sven was far too young to have any seed worth giving, and his sex drive was nearly nonexistent. It existed. But rarely. I could count the times the Prince had been horny on one hand and still have enough fingers to hold a knife.

I had to stay with Sven the entire time. It was my job, after all, to stay by his side at all hours--unless he told me otherwise, that is.
So throughout the week, I was by his side, carefully observing Shezka. She watched me too, in that time. I could see something sinister in her innocent eyes.
The first four days went well. Shezka and Sven were never apart, even when bathing.
Then the fifth day, Prince Sven sent me away for the night. I followed orders, as I was well taught. If I ever disobeyed, I faced death.
The next morning, I sensed something wrong with Prince Sven. He seemed a little complacive. He didn't yell at hardly anyone.
The next day was much the same, but he looked sickly. I decided to check his food for poison, something I hadn't had to do in years. It seemed fine. So I watched.
And I saw it. Shezka insisted on feeding Prince Sven herself. It was a minute thing, something most would never see. But I was paid to see it. I watched her blow onto a piece of hot steak to cool it before feeding it to the Prince.
Some demons are born with the power of fire. Some are gifted with speed or stealth. Some have ice in their blood and more than others have the power of immense strength. But a rare few are born with poison in their lips. Their breath is a toxin, slow to work its lethal magic.
I had been trained for a decade on poisons. I had learned to identify the taste, smell, and feel of every toxin known to exist. I had slowly fed my body these poisons, becoming immune to all.
Save one. Dragon Breath, it was called, and only another demon with this gift could ever have a chance of surviving it. I may not have been immune, but I could tell when it was being used.
And Shezka was using it on the Prince.
I held my tongue, though. It would have been very unwise to accuse her right then. I decided to play the waiting game. Tonight would be when I struck. Any longer and Prince Sven would be beyond help.
And any sooner would not teach him a lesson.

Nightfall came and Prince Sven retreated to bed with Shezka by his side. And I was left outside, patiently awaiting the right moment.
I used my abilities, a power taught to me by a witch and honed over the years. I released my body from the confined of corporeal form it held. My form became transparent, an outline of my former self. Then the outline was turned to mist. I became a wandering cloud of moisture.
My particles slid invisibly through the solid wall. I watched as Sven and Shezka readied themselves for sleep. Sven seemed more alert, but still moved as if he was walking through a bog.
Shezka lay beside him, her naked form revealed before Sven. For the first time in my life spent with the Prince, I saw his body respond without any effort at all.
Shezka smiled and began to sing. I realized my mistake then. She wasn't a demon with Dragon Breath. She was a thrice damned harpy. The Dragon Breath had been her whispered song of pleasure and seduction.
I also realized her plan. She had used magic to give the illusion of being a demon. When she had heard the Prince was seeking a new wife, she had come to seduce him. Harpies could become impregnated in only a few days of the first intimate encounter.
And a harpy demon half breed was a bad creature to have around.
I immediately began to shift back to my corporeal form as Prince Sven climbed over Shezka. I wanted to call out a warning, but my voice had yet to form. I urged the spell faster, but it was too late. Sven was already moving to the intoxicating song of the harpy.
My dagger came out in a flash. I jumped onto Sven and pulled him roughly away from Shezka. The harpy screamed with frustration and revealed her ugly form.
Her hooked beak caught my arm, tearing it clean off. I ignored the pain long enough to dodge her claws. Gray wings unfolded from her arched back as she twisted out of my range. She stood on taloned feet, her wings spread wide. I dived toward the Prince to protect him as razor sharp feathers blasted forth from the creature's wings and pierced my back. I gasped as one narrowly missed my heart.
I turned, my hand sending Black Fang into the air. The blade struck true, right between the bitch's eyes.
She fell to the floor. I jumped at her, grabbing the hilt of my dagger as it drained her blood. My severed arm regrew instantly and the feathers decorating my back fell away as my wounds were healed. I relished in the feeling of lust, made even more powerful by the harpy’s blood. I felt my pants constrict as my erection grew.
I turned back to Prince Sven, my dilated eyes catching sight of his limp form crumpled against the side of his wardrobe.
"Oh, he'd better not be dead," I muttered as I approached. It would just figure that a little bump would kill him.
Fortunately he was still alive, just unconscious. I lifted him into his bed and slid the large coverlet over his naked body.
I left him alone to find someone to clean up the mess I had made. Then I found someone else to feed my hunger.

I was surprised to see Prince Sven up and around the next day. He should have been in bed, recovering from his encounter with the harpy’s song, but the Prince had always been stubborn.
The news had spread quickly that the Prince's newest wife had died. None of the rumors mentioned that she had been a harpy. It wouldn't do anyone any good if they realized that Prince Sven was a moron. I hoped to keep that bit of information to myself.
But that effort was in vain when he summoned me to stand before him. I wondered what I had done, besides save the little brat's life.
"Dax, how long have you served me?"
"For eighty years, your highness," I said. I wasn't about to mention how I came under his service. He had been only a boy of twenty when he saw me slaughter a hundred guards when I had been hired to steal the King's Crown. I had emerged from the battle without a scratch, thanks to Black Fang. He had been impressed with my skills and hired me full time to be his bodyguard. In all actuality, I was no better off than his wives, except that I could leave the castle when given permission. The only time Arel and Fredia were seen in public was at parties...in the castle.
"And you have protected me for all that time?"
Well, duh. Otherwise he would have been killed a dozen times over by mercenaries from other continents.
"Yes, my Prince."
Sven was quiet for a very long time after that. Not a good sign for someone who can't even sit without complaining that he had to do so. A rare moment of peace was a precious commodity, but a worrying thing to see.
"Failing to protect your Prince is a crime punishable by slow death," Sven finally said.
I schooled my features. If necessary, I would run. I would be an outlaw, but I wasn't about to stick around for my own slow, agonizing death. I had survived too long on the streets to give up my life like that. Sure, I'd protect the kid as long as it paid (and boy did it pay), but I wasn't stupid enough to die for him.
Or maybe I was. I had jumped in front of him when the harpie was about to kill him, almost getting my heart pierced. Before that, I had been run through by an assassin sent to kill him. Only my quick reflexes had saved me then.
Perhaps I had grown fond of the brat. Maybe I was foolish to think I would never give up my life to save him.
Not a chance. I fight for me, and myself alone.
I snapped back to attention as Prince Sven spoke again. This time he was quiet, almost as if he didn't want to say aloud what he was thinking.
"And protecting me deserves a reward."
It took a moment for my scattered senses to return and to gather my jaw up from the floor. The Prince looked at me, as if awaiting an answer. For the first time in my life, I had nothing to say, not a single sarcastic thought to project. My entire thought process halted.
"Don't you agree, Dax?"
"Yes, sir," I managed to force out.
Prince Sven nodded and stood. But he hadn't fully recovered, and his balance was off. I rushed forward to steady him before he fell.
"Help me to my bed," he commanded. "I don't think I can walk."
I let reality adjust for a moment before I lifted Prince Sven into my arms. It had been a long time since I had cradled the Prince like this and carried him back to his room. When he had been younger (before his spoiled brat years), I had often found him sleeping in the garden or on his throne. I had taken him back to his room, muttering all the while. I hated babysitting back then. But now, as I carried him to his private chambers, I didn't mind so much.
I was getting weak. And I was starting to care.
I set him in his bed. As I turned to gather his night robe, he grabbed my wrist.
"I don't want nightclothes," he said. "I feel a little too hot."
"Must be the lingering harpy’s poison remaining in your system," I deduced. It was a perfect evening, not too warm and not cool either. If I had been out in the streets still, I would have been sitting on someone's rooftop enjoying a bottle of Harvest Wine with my old friend D'ter.
But D'ter was dead and I wasn’t on the streets any longer.
"Help me undress," Prince Sven murmured.
Naïve I was not. This didn't sound like the Prince was just tired. Perhaps the harpy had affected him more than I first believed. He was positively blushing! His cheeks were tinted with crimson and he didn't meet my gaze.
I pressed my palm against his forehead. He seemed a little warmer than usual, but not fevered. I used my hand to push him back to the pillows, though with that stack of silk and down, it wasn't much of a trip.
His hands grasped my wrist and pulled it away from his forehead. He pressed it somewhere else.
It took me a moment to register where exactly the warmth beneath my palm was coming from. When I did finally realize, I snatched my hand away.
Or I tried to. Sven's little body belied the strength he had been born with. I, on the other hand, was graced with speed at my birth.
But it didn't help me as Prince Sven pushed into my hand. The little jerk off was using my hand to jerk himself off!
"I don't think you've quite regained your mind." More like lost it. "Let me call a healer." Or another servant.
"Sleep with me or I'll have you beheaded!" Prince Sven commanded.
That was a difficult decision. Sleep with the Prince while he was high off harpy song and be killed when he regains his mind, or be beheaded. Either way I'm dead.
Lesser of two evils? Neither one seemed like a good option at this point.
And apparently I was taking too long to decide. That, or Sven had mistaken my contemplation for compliance.
He forced my hand underneath the fabric of his pants. Oh, that was nice. The Prince humping my hand like a wild human.
"Prince Sven, I don't think you're in the right mind to do this," I tried to reason. "Perhaps I could get you something? A servant? Something to eat? Your wife? A sedative?"
Oops, I had said that last one aloud. It didn't matter, though. Prince Sven was too busy using my hand for his own pleasure to hear me. But fortunately, I did hear. I heard the gasp of a servant just passing by the door I had left open. I only had so many hands, and at that time they had been holding the Prince.
"Prince Sven, perhaps you should let me go," I said.
"Just kill her and close the door on your way back," Sven gasped as he released my hand.
Now he gains some sense! Did he have selective hearing? Well, he had at least let me go.
Black Fang slid into the servant's heart and drank up her blood. I felt my body react to the power of the dagger.
So sleeping with the Prince didn't seem so bad now. I could always head to Herthania and live as a fugitive. It wasn't new to me. I could remember when I had run from the military and been tracked for over a decade.
So I did as Prince Sven bade me to do. I closed the door, sheathed my dagger and turned toward the bed.
And what a nice surprise to see waiting for me there. Prince Sven was jerking off, using his own hand this time, with his pants around his ankles and his other hand under his shirt.
Now, I wonder what it was doing there. I found out as I pounced on him. Yes, I pounced. Like a cat on a mouse, I pounced on him, and I took a nibble out of his neck.
Oh, Goddess of these Unholy Acts, he arched up into me and let out a noise between a moan and a growl. I had never heard him utter such a noise.
"I love watching you do that," Sven said hoarsely.
Do what? Watch me kill? I paused and looked up at his flushed face. Admittedly, I liked to watch people die, but not in that sense. Not unless I was using Black Fang.
So he was into kink. I could deal with that. I could deal with whatever he liked if it would make him look like that. His face was flushed, his eyes dilated, and his hair fanned around his head. He looked so...dare I say?...cute.
His demand for attention brought me back to the task at hand. I pulled the shirt from his body with a swift tug and threw it across the room.
Damn, he was beautiful. Is that odd, calling him beautiful? He was. His body didn't have a scratch or scar. His muscles were still developing, so his stomach had barely a dip or a crease. I trailed a finger from his fluttering pulse to his waist, just above the barely discernable happy trail.
"You love to watch me kill, eh?" I murmured quietly.
"The way you move when you kill," Prince Sven panted. "You get all quick and fluid. I wait for someone to do something wrong so I can watch you kill them."
So that was the reason he had so many fall under my knife lately. I was wondering why the kill rate had gone up in recent years. I just thought he wasn't getting any.
"And it's kind of funny how you try to hide your boner."
I held it for a second. It was just too funny to hold it any longer. I burst out laughing so hard I nearly tipped off the bed. Prince Sven apparently didn't understand because he pouted and shoved me the rest of the way to the floor.
I took a moment to stifle my laughter down to a chuckle. I lifted myself into a sitting position and looked at my Prince. He was pouting again, but the fact that his body still held him at full mast meant I hadn't hurt his pride too much.
"Just leave if you think I'm funny," he muttered.
"I'm sorry, my Prince," I said a little breathlessly. "I didn't mean to laugh."
"Oh, leave me alone," he said. He turned on his side and curled up. "I just thought you would be different. But you even laugh at me." He suddenly whipped around and stared at me. "Am I really that small?"
So we've found the point of his pouting. He was still sore about what Carna had said. In all reality, he wasn't that bad off. He was good size for his age.
"No, that's not why I'm laughing," I said. "I have never heard such bedroom talk like 'boner.' It caught me off guard. You are not small. Carna was just trying to piss you off, pardon my language."
Prince Sven seemed to relax. I climbed back onto the bed and leaned over him.
"I thought it was cute," I purred into his ear. "I'm sorry I laughed. You can punish me later."
"I'm not in the mood any more," Sven muttered.
I begged to differ. I reached around his hip and grasped his 'boner' in my hand, giving it a little squeeze. I smirked at his gasp. He tried to bury his face in a pillow, but I could clearly see the blush on that spread over his ears and chest. I hadn't seen him blush like that since his first encounter with a woman.
"I think you're lying," I murmured into his ear. My voice took on a husky edge, one I hadn't used in ages.
"Stop it," he said. I was far from convinced, especially since he was unwittingly thrusting into my hand.
"I think you wouldn't like it if I did," I teased. "You'll have to convince me to stop."
Wrong words. I found myself suddenly pinned beneath him, his face inches from mine.
"I said stop," he hissed.
"Stop?" I murmured. "Stop what? This?"
I pushed my leg gently up between his thighs. There he goes, humping like a wild human again.
"Yes, stop that," he moaned.
"But I'm not doing anything," I commented casually, though all that rubbing was getting to me. "You're the one who's moving."
Sven paused, then buried his face into my shirt. He wrapped his arms around my chest, nearly squeezing the breath from me.
I sighed and pressed my palms into my eyes. This was not the time for a game of emotional roulette. He was crying. I could feel the tears soaking into my shirt.
"Why is this happening?" he sobbed. "Every time I look at you, I can't stop thinking that I want you in my bed."
I awkwardly put my arm around him. "It must be my charming face," I said a little sarcastically. "That, or you're still suffering the effects of that harpy’s magic."
He stilled. For a long while, I was his pillow and snot rag all at once. It took me a few minutes to realize he had dozed off. Great, I was severely horny and my only release was asleep.
I let out another sigh. Sven was making it hard for a guy to get laid around here. And he was still poking me in the hip with his junk!
Okay, so I wasn't the most romantic guy in the land. I'd rather have my fun and be done with it, then get on with my life. Just lying around, being used for a pillow, wasn't my idea of a good time after sex. I tolerated it once in a while, if my partner had done a great job of relaxing me. But this time, I hadn't even gotten the pleasure of a mind-blowing fuck first.
With care, I moved my Prince a bit so he wasn't poking me so much as the bed. When I attempted to slid from his grip, however, I found to my utter dismay that the little brat wouldn't let go. I was not a pillow!
"Well doesn't this just bite?" I muttered quietly. "What God or Goddess did I piss off in the last week?"
Sven stirred slightly, but only managed to pull me closer. I gritted my teeth. Not only could I not fix the problem left behind by my earlier slaughter, if I wanted to piss or something, I'd probably have to do so in my pants. Not a pleasant thought.
So I fixed one problem. If Sven didn't like me jerking off in his bed, he'd just have to learn that I'm not a cuddle type person (especially when I wasn't strong enough to worm out of bed with a passenger latched onto me).
I loosened my belt and slid my hand under the fabric of my pants. It wouldn't take long, especially since the harpy’s blood had yet to work out of my system. I stifled a moan and bit my lip to suppress any more noise. I thought about spilling my mess over my Prince, letting him think twice about holding me down. But when that image did more to fuel the fire in my blood, I decided that perhaps if I could get in position, I would do just that.
Unfortunately, Sven was not a heavy sleeper. I felt his arms tense around my chest and turned to see his wide green eyes staring back at me.
Fuck.
"What are you doing?"
Was it that hard to figure out? I'm jerking off, you little brat.
"Why?"
Oops, I might have said that last part aloud.
"I couldn't get out of your arms," I said, still working myself.
"Can I try?"
"Go ahead and get your kicks off too," I said. I wasn't going to stop him from getting rid of his erection.
Was I surprised when he shoved my hand away and gripped my erection? More than a little, I admit.
Oh, Goddess of Afore Mentioned Sin, that was different. And the way he tried to find places that--like there!--would make me moan.
But it wasn't enough. He was still young and inexperienced. His skills were severely lacking. I decided to help him a little by showing him where the most pleasure could be found.
He arched into me, a gasp falling from his lips. I couldn't help it. I kissed him.
He jumped back, his eyes wide.
"What?" I asked. It was just a kiss.
"You took my first kiss," Sven said. He almost sounded offended.
I snorted, not able to completely hold back my laughter. I let my face fall into the pillow beside my Prince's head.
"You have kissed your wives, have you not?" I asked.
"On the cheek or the hand," Sven admitted. "Never kissed on the lips. I thought it was gross. All that tongue and slobber. Blech!"
Well when you put it that way, of course it will sound gross. I found myself chuckling, then out right laughing uncontrollably. I hugged my Prince tightly and nearly cried for laughing so hard. It actually hurt to laugh.
"You are possibly the most adorable brat I've ever been in bed with," I said. "I've never laughed so much in my life. Stole your first kiss? Next you will tell me you've never had sex."
Sven crossed his arms. "What's wrong with that?" he asked.
I stopped laughing and looked up at him. “You have got to be kidding."
Sven blushed and turned away. I sat up and looked hard at him. He wasn't lying.
"I thought you had," I said. "You've had your wives. I saw it."
Sven turned bright red. "I just rubbed myself on them," he admitted. "I never...got in."
I seemed to lose my ability to think at that moment. Surely I had not imagined the copulation. Hell, Fredia had even miscarried a child!
"They cheated on me," Sven said. "I couldn't get hard enough to do much."
"You knew they were cheating? Why not have me kill them?"
"I can't have you kill all my wives," Sven said. "Arel and Fredia still listen to me otherwise. Carna was getting too bold."
I chuckled and kissed Sven's forehead. "Then are you sure you want me to be your first?"
I wasn't sure I wanted that burden. The last virgin I had taken to bed became clingy and emotional toward me. It was annoying. I had been forced to kill her for my own good.
"Yes," my Prince said firmly. "I want you to be my first. I want to claim your body as my own."
Well, if that didn't sound scripted...He must have practiced saying it in front of the mirror when I wasn't looking.
And what did he mean take my body?
I crossed my arms. "Now, hold it," I said. "I will not play bitch to anyone. Not even you."
I had done enough of that in my life.
Sven thought otherwise. Once more I was pinned to the bed, this time, though, my face was buried in the pillow. I felt him settle on my back.
"You will do what I say," he said. "I am your Prince."
"And I am your elder," I said. "I will not let a little whelp virgin take his lessons from me like that."
Sven let me up. "You're really going to teach me?"
I sighed. "Why not?" I said.
He looked at me expectantly. I could kill a man fifteen different ways with my bare hands, wield my dagger with deadly speed and accuracy, and murder someone without any hesitation. But I had nothing to fight off those large green eyes.
I leaned forward and kissed him. He didn't draw back this time. I slid my tongue into his mouth and pushed him back into the pillows.
I decided to teach him everything at once, so there would be no questions later.
And just in case I would never have a chance to enjoy the feeling of another body next to me after the sun came up.
I wanted to be thorough after all. I don't like to leave anything half done.


And that was how I ended up here, still standing beside my Prince (well King now) and lover, ready to face off against the legions of harpies. King Sven looked at me with worry. He had aged somewhat, since taking on the role of King thirty years ago. Only three hundred and fifty years old and already facing war. I guess Shezka's people didn't like me killing one of their own too much.
I heard their claws against the door, I saw their ugly faces pressed against the windows. There must have been thousands. And I was the only thing between them and my King. They had already wiped out the guard, the servants, and his wives.
"Just go," Sven told me. "You don't want to throw away your life."
His armor glinted in the torchlight and his sword was out and ready to slice some harpy hide. I shook my head, adjusting my grip on Black Fang.
"Too late," I said. "I have nothing left now except you."
That sounded really corny. But no time to dwell. If we made it out alive, perhaps then, we could discuss my refusal to follow his orders.
Right now we had bigger issues. I turned back to the harpies as I heard the windows shatter.