Jason turned to them and flared his wings,clicking struggling sparks to life around his fangs. His pupils turned to reptilian slits and he hissed,tail swishing with the stinger brandished.

"Ash?" Sage muttered in disbelief. The knight blinked, giving Sage a solemn look. "I'm afraid not, Prince Sage," he said. It was impossible--he sounded just like his double. "Your brother was simply the blueprint for my creation." It was Tertius. The last time Jason had seen the Iron knight was in Machina's tower right before it came crashing down. How had he survived?

"You." He hissed,dragon tone deadly sharp. "How on earth are you alive?" He grit his teeth as he forced claws on his hands.

Instead of answering his question, Tertius's gaze met Jason's, his eyes blank and dead, looking so much like Ash's it was...heartwrenching. "Forgive me," he murmured and made a sweeping gesture with his arm. With shrieks like knives scraping against each other, the Iron faeries rushed him. They were appallingly fast, scuttling gray blurs across the floor. The first attacker leaped up and slashed at his face with a twisted wire claw as sharp as any razor.

Jason was shocked,and confused as to why he said to forgive him. But he was more focused now to fight as he ducked his upper body out of the way,his wings balancing him. He shuffled back and spun around,lashing out his tail harshly. He snapped his fingers and little Shade and Fatespeaker scuttled in,seeing the fight and,with a flurry of ice particles,grew to what their real size would be.Massive. They leaped over and put themselves between Sage and the iron fey,lashing out icey,deadly,claws.

The Winter prince thrust out a palm, and a jagged ice spear surged out of the floor, stabbing toward the Iron fey. Lightning fast, they dodged, leaping back and giving them time to retreat. Grabbing Jason's wrist, Sage yanked him behind the throne.

"Keep out of the way," he ordered, just as the faeries descended on them again, swarming over the chair and leaving deep gouges in the ice. Sage slashed at one, only to have it spring back. Another darted in from behind, lashing out with steel talons. The prince dodged, but he didn't move fast enough, and a bright splash of blood colored the floor. The prince staggered, swinging his blade in a desperate circle to keep the assassins back. There were too many for him, and they were too quick.

"I can't do that,sorry." He said,snapping his jaws and flicking a hand. It caused sparks to flutter a bit about,smoke spreading from his jaws. It only swarmed around the Iron Fey,avoiding Sage,and he clicked his tongue quickly. The sparks lit the smoke alite and it exploded carefully.

A handful of iron fey was left as parts and pieces along the floor.

There were lines of red on Sage's face and chest. Tertius bent down and took the Scepter of the Seasons. "Don't," Sage managed. "What are you doing?"

He observed them with solemn gray eyes. "Following the orders of my king."

"King?" Sage struggled to focus. He and the assassins that were left fought on. The wolf had its jaws clamped around a faery's leg, and Sage pressed it unmercifully with his sword. "You don't have a king anymore. Machina is dead."

"Yes, but our realm endures. I follow the commands of the new Iron King," Tertius murmured, drawing his sword. His blade was pure steel. "I bear you no ill will, this time. My orders do not include killing you. But I must obey my lord," he said to Jason.

He growled,soft hints of white light of tendril like markings glowing faintly on him. He flicked a hand up and sudden tendrils of white,with spikes like rose thorns,burst out and wrapped around him. "I ain't got orders,and so I'd pleasure in killing you." He growled,clenching a fist as his purple eye glowed it's rich color and he felt his own will dig into power he had avoided in his dragon half of his soul. The white markings glowed more and he literally tried to crush Terius,taking the sword from him and throwing it across the room.

Tertius struggles and snarls something and the remaining iron fey started to eat away at the white tendrils, the spikes not doing much to their iron exteriors