Original Stories Fan Fiction / Other Fan Fiction / Realism Fan Fiction ❯ Darkness Eternal ❯ Chapter 8 ( Chapter 9 )

Chapter Eight

Found

 

 

A youth in a black and red uniform bent over her, his dark eyes alight with laughter. He smiled at her and reached to brush the red, sweat soaked hair from her eyes. “Good job today, Sor,” he said softly, “but next time, why don't you try not getting crushed beneath my horse's hooves, hm? I know you're anxious to learn the sword, and while I appreciate your enthusiasm, I'd rather you not run after me when I'm training my recruits.”

 

She made a face at him and rolled onto her stomach. “'s no fun, then,” she said sullenly. “'s more fun when you freak out, Henen.”

 

A smile tugged at his lips as he said, “Heshen. My title is Heshen.”

 

Her face screwed up in concentration she tried to sound the name out, but merely mangled it again the only way a six-year-old could. He laughed and she rolled over in an attempt to kick him, but he easily caught her foot. “For now and for you only, Henen is fine, but I want you to work on saying the name right,” he said, “Understood?”

 

She giggled softly at his words and nodded her understanding.

 

“Heshen,” a deep voice called and he looked over his shoulder and frowned.

 

Turning back to her he flashed her a tight smile as he said, “Run along, Sor, and perhaps I'll let you handle a real sword tomorrow.”

 

She stared at him for a moment trying to comprehend the edge of his voice and the meaning of his words. “Not a toy one?” she asked suspiciously.

 

“Run along, Sor. Your father has to be wondering where you are by this time,” he said a little more firmly and she glanced over his shoulder to see the dark haired minister she loathed. Not hesitating this time she bolted from the youth and headed for the safety of her father's rooms.

 

Colors swirled, the scene changed. An old link tugged at her, demanding to be reestablished. Overpowered, surging and enveloped.

 

Bitter cold…racing heart…shuddering breaths…searing rage…

 

Confused and angry, an old memory. Not hers.

 

Shouts…cries…tearing muscle…smell of blood…swirl of color…stab of pain…regret…darkness…falling…falling… falling…

 

* * *

 

She came awake all at once, as completely and fully as though someone had splashed a bucket of ice water over her. Gasping and shuddering she rolled over onto her stomach, the world tilting and spinning around her. The ground lurched and rolled beneath, stealing her balance from her and tossing her onto her side once more. She lay there, laboring to breath and fighting to gain a hold on the mass of swirling red, brown, green, and black.

 

Soren.

 

She pushed the touch away and it pushed back, determined.

 

Silver-eyes.

 

Pain tore through her like lightning, white hot and agonizing. Again and again. Building, building, building. Her very blood throbbed in time with it; surging, inflaming. It was beyond anything she had ever experienced before, so intense, so all consuming that she no longer knew where it ended and she began. Again and again it came, another's agonized cry stabbing through her mind. A scream erupted, echoing and resounding.

 

Screaming, screaming, screaming, screaming, screaming, screaming, screaming, screaming, screaming, screaming, screaming, screaming, screa-

 

-gone.

 

Silence.

 

Blissful darkness.

 

The next sensation she was aware of was a cold wetness pressed to her forehead and warmth of soft linens. A weight rested on her left hip as though an animal had laid its head there and was waiting for her to awaken. She moved her head and the sensations moved with her.

 

“Brat,” came a frustrated whisper. “That backwards, half-drunken, muncura bat of a prince. She's not ready for he full link to be established. Not yet, not now.” the cool wetness left her forehead for a moment and then was replace

 

“By your standards or his?” the cool voice of Sora's familiar snapped.

 

A pause, or perhaps a hesitation. Then, “Both.”

 

“Liar,” Josaline said, a clipped tone to her voice. “She is more than ready for the link to be established, but you merely want to keep her from him and so interfered before he could make the full connection. You want her for yourself. You want her to take the place of your daugh-”

 

The weight on her hip shifted and hissed at the pair. Soren could feel Homuna's claws flex against her thigh as he resettled himself, scales aquiver in agitation. She briefly contemplated opening her eyes, but stilled as Sora said, “You remember my age better than I do. Tell me what it was again?”

 

Josaline stifled an impatient sigh as she said, “Almost six-hundred and thirty one. Why? Does this have something to do with the girl?”

 

“If you know my age then you will have realized that I passed my prime and am no longer able to bear young. Why would I want to burden myself with another child? And a human as complicated as her at that? What do I stand to gain if she was even willing to… replace her?”

 

“Your abandoned post. The old prestige you held within Askerin's court if she accepts the prince as her Riagenkai and he takes the dragon throne. The power you-”

 

Josaline fell abruptly silent at Sora's vicious snarl. “The bastard is a leech, sucking the life from whatever he touches. He lusts after blood and fear and pain the way Riagenkai are supposed to cherish their royals. Do you remember why I killed my last ruler?”

 

A wary silence ensued for a moment. “He killed your child.”

 

“Why?”

 

“He became jealous of the love you willingly gave her.”

 

“Why?”

 

“He loved you.”

 

“And how did he know her one weakness? The one thing with which a mere human could kill a full grown dragon like her?”

 

“Askerin.”

 

“Yes, so why would I willingly intermingle with the bastard's heir?”

 

Josaline made no reply.

 

“I thought so,” Sora said tiredly.

 

“If you didn't want to regain your old place in the Dragon Court then why did you stop him from completing the link? You would have been free of her and the burden she places on you,” Josaline pressed and Soren suddenly felt a vicious surge of dislike for the familiar that confused her.

 

A harsh bark of laughter echoed through the room. “She is difficult and tiresome, but never a burden. Fayra is a child the likes of which I have never encountered, even in my long years amongst the human courts,” a heavy sigh, “Besides, she should not have to bear the weight of the prince's tortured soul on top of her own suffering. I suppose you could say that I am doing it to save her in some twisted way.”

 

“She'll die then. You know very well what will happen if a ruler refuses the throne or goes too long without establishing the link that exists between a ruler and their Riagenkai; you've seen it yourself. Are you willing to protect her to the extent that she dies as a result?” Josaline asked, her voice coldly calculating.

 

Silence was her only answer, but it said everything that Sora could not: She wasn't certain what her choice would be until it slapped her upside the head.

 

The silence stretched for several moments longer before, “When he comes for her, then what? Will you defy him and-”

 

Enough, you've heard more than your share. Rest is needed more right now then finding out what Sora is up to.

 

Soren hesitated. She had just learned more in those few minutes than she had since she had been dropped into the strange world and Josaline was still needing her master, so there was still more she could learn.

 

Sleep, her familiar reiterated more firmly and the Kingen pulling her into the blissful bleakness of sleep.

 

Wait.

 

Her familiar paused, an impatient edge to her mind.

 

She hesitated, suddenly feeling as exposed as a newborn babe. For a moment she recalled the vague awareness that she had sensed in his touch, the lingering bitterness he was struggling with and knew that she had no reason to hesitate. He had reached out and touched her, seeking her…help and that simple gesture had stirred something in her that she had thought long dead.

 

Will he try and reach out to me again?

 

Most likely. Riagenkai tend to do that where their rulers are concerned.

 

She conveniently ignored the last bit and brushed it aside for later examination.

 

When he does, I don't want Sora to interfere again. Can you ensure that?

 

No. Sora is a dragon and I do not have the power to shield you from such a creature.

 

Is there any way in which I can block her when he makes the attempt?

 

Ask her?

 

Not likely.

 

A frustrated sigh brushed against her cheek as her Kingen exhaled softly. If I tell you how to avoid her interfering, will you go back to sleep?

 

Yes.

 

Establish the link yourself.

 

Wha- was all she managed before her familiar dragged her back into the peaceful realm of sleep.

 

* * *

Soren glared at Sora as she tied her hair back. The dragon casually leaned against the door as though she had nothing better to do, even as her eyes flashed with tightly contained anger. Having confronted the older woman about the conversation she had overheard between Sora and her familiar she had received nothing but frustrating and dead end answers.

 

Homuna sat on the inn's bed, his gaze traveling between the two. In the month since he had hatched his size had nearly doubled and his black scales were beginning to gleam a dark gray and in that same amount of time he had picked up the habit of listening and seemingly following the pace of conversations. He even seemed to understand when someone spoke directly to him. Now, however, he was content to listen as the two females snapped back and forth.

 

“-my mind,” Soren was saying. “You don't have any right to be barging in and rummaging around my skull whenever you feel like. What did you think you could accomplish?”

 

“He is Riagenkai and Riagenkai choose royals for their country.”

 

“So what?!”

 

“He was trying to establish a mind-to-mind connection with you.”

 

“So what!!! Maybe I want a connection to be established!”

 

“To do so would be to accept that you are his queen. I saw how you reacted to those people calling you their queen back in Hectorun; it was like someone had struck you. You neither need nor want a throne so why would you want to establish something as intimate as the link.”

 

She could still taste his bitterness, could still recall the old wound left to fester. More than that the longing he had provoked in his touch was prevalent and could not be denied once given life. Maybe she didn't know what would happen if she reached out to him or him to her again, but she was damn certain that she didn't want Sora to interfere again even if it meant dredging up old wounds that had never healed.

 

A slow, mocking smile graced her lips. “You really are pathetic.”

 

Sora started at the sudden change in Soren's voice and words. “What?”

 

“Your daughters been dead, what? Twenty? Thirty years?”

 

Try fifty-five. She admitted that she killed her royal during that scuffle with the imagi, her familiar reminded her.

 

“Mmmm…no, more like fifty-five years and you're still clinging to her memory. You never wanted a daughter you wanted a trophy, someone you could use to show how great and good a dragon you were to have raised such a daughter.” She was stretching it, she knew, but she needed to be certain that Sora would stay away from her. “Now you think that by getting me on that Riagenkai's throne through your own power will prove exactly that. That's why you saddled me with Homuna, because you knew I would know nothing about raising a dragon and you knew that I wouldn't leave him to die. You could have chosen anyone to care for him, but you used him as an excuse to bind me to you in such a way that I didn't even realize until now. you just want to be a glorified-”

 

“I've never cared about status and glory,” Sora snarled, suddenly finding her voice again. She paced slowly from the door, closing the distance between them. “The post of Riagenkai was convenient because it got me out of a hellhole of a life, away from the dragon court, away from Askerin. The only one I ever constantly loved and treasured was my daughter and when she died it was like shredding me from existence. I got a half revenge and then I disappeared, trying to actually erase myself or move on. Neither of which I was successful at doing, because it is impossible.

 

“At maybe twenty years of life you haven't lived long enough to have experience the fierce joys and horrors that I have, so don't you presume to judge-”

 

Five years worth of bitter resentment and terror broke free. “I've lived to see my father murdered by my mother, betrayed, lied to, and used in the most sordid of-” she stopped, chest heaving and tears prickling her eyes, as she realized that she had just revealed what she had been trying to hide from for so long.

 

Surprise was just beginning to register in Sora's eyes and she knew, knew, what would come next.

 

No!! some distant part of her screamed in agony.

 

To see it again, to acknowledge that it would come from Sora's lips was almost unbearable.

Sora had just drawn breath to speak when Soren bolted. A door slammed open, faces blurred past her, the rough wooden floor gave way to solid dirt, the sun hot and bright in her face, quiet skittering fell farther and farther behind.

 

Distract her, keep her away from me.

 

You're running.

 

Please!!

 

There was a slight pause before her familiar answered her. All right, but just this once. And then she felt the Kingen's presence slide from her mind and side, an empty reminder that she would always be alone.

 

Relief swept through her as she burst through a crowd of people. Surely Sora couldn't track her scent through this many people, couldn't follow her scent through the town. She didn't know how long she ran, just that she wanted to put space between her and the female dragon. A few hands made a grab for her, but she deftly dodged them and continued on her mindless sprint past the run down shacks and failing market place.

 

Out of the corner of her eye she could see black shapes pursuing her, reaching for her. A face flashed, leering and terribly familiar. Abruptly she skidded around a corner as soon as it appeared, cold gnawing at her. her blood turned to ice as the shapes turned with her and followed.

 

No matter how fast she ran, nor how many times she turned, they were close on her heels. They taunted and mocked her, their faces twisted and leering at the torture they provoked in her. Her heart hammered in her throat, her breath came in short gasps, her blood thundered in her ears, tears stung at her eyes.

 

Pushing, shoving, running, running, running. People moved to give her space to run, their muttered words escaping her.

 

A flash of gray, a new figure running beside her.

 

“Wait!!” a thin voice wailed some distance behind her. “Wait, Soren!!”

 

At the sound of her name she missed a step in her haste and a pile of rotten vegetables and horse manure.

 

A snort sounded and then a wet nose was touching her cheek and as she scraped the disgusting mess from her face she realized that she was shaking. Her left hand lashed out to push her familiar away, but froze as she came into contact with coarse fur where it should have been soft. Snapping her head around she found herself face-to-face with a large gray wolf.

 

If she had been standing his head would have easily reached her ribs, but as it was he had his head stooped so he could inspect her. His eyes gleamed with intelligent satisfaction as he lifted his head and howled his triumph. Then he sat down on his haunches and let his tongue loll out in as what could only be described as a grin.

 

Those that had lingered after she had fallen quickly scurried away as they realized that a wolf accompanied her. They had no wish to be mauled by what might be a rabid animal, not for what little gold hey may have gotten off her.

 

Wolf? some part of her asked, presenting her with an image of the first time she had seen a similar wolf. She shook it off. No time for that now. She had more important matters to deal with first.

 

Pushing herself into a sitting position and looking wildly around she confirmed that no unwanted spectators lingered. No sign of those that had pursued her remained, as though…as though they had never existed. It was as though they had been part of her imagination. Running a hand through her hair she realized her fingers were still covered in grime and was thus mucking her hair up even worse.

 

Soren could feel the tension fading from her body as she came to terms with what had just happened. She had told Sora exactly what she had been running from these last five years and then she had bolted. The figures that had followed her had been nothing more than her imagination conjuring up images of the past that would probably always haunt her. Not exactly the best way to get a dragon off one's tail, but now she could search for the other Riagenkai dragon without…without…

 

The thought trailed off as another, more horrifying, one took its place. Dragon? Shit. Where's Homuna? Wasn't he right behind me when I took off? With a sinking feeling she recalled that she had heard distant skittering falling farther and farther behind and then, later, that thin voice calling to her to stop.

 

All thoughts were driven temporarily from her mind as a slight, olive skinned child rammed into her chest and clung to her. His black hair fanned around his face, making it impossible to decipher who he was had she known him and she had the strangest feeling that she did.

 

Before she could question the boy soft footsteps sounded behind her and stopped. Then, “Well, this isn't exactly how I thought I'd find you, but here you are playing in manure like you're three again. Was she like this when you caught her scent, Grent?”

 

“No,” the wolf replied, though she wasn't all that surprised. After all she had heard the Dragon Prince's Kingen speak and if she was right then this was the same Kingen that she had seen in the woods on that fateful day.

 

“Then you chased her into this pile?” the voice asked, amusement lacing through his tone. A growl in the negative rebuffed his assumptions.

 

Swallowing convulsively she turned her head slightly to look at the man and felt a thrill race down her spine. His voice was deeper, his build stronger, but nothing had really changed about him. He still had the same aristocratic look without the arrogance, same dark, almond shaped eyes, same black hair, same lopsided smile, same strong jaw, same strength in his shoulders, same everything. He was still the youth she had dreamed of that morning-or was it yesterday morning?-aside from the years had aged.

 

“Henen,” she said quietly and he grimaced.

 

“I had hoped you would have forgotten that,” he said, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck. “I mean, how longs it been? Seven? Eight?”

 

“More like ten to twelve years ago and no, I wouldn't forget something as funny as that,” she said, grinning for what felt like the first time in ages. “You'll always be Henen, the one whose horse I was nearly trampled by when I was five.”

 

Heshen, her familiar automatically corrected her, making her start and nearly dump the child off her lap. Sora will be unable to follow you for a bit.

 

The child released his grip on her shirt and dropped to a sitting position on her legs. He glared at the spot where the air rippled and bent and swatted at it while adding, “My Sor, go find your own.” then he promptly wrapped his thin arms around a bemused Soren's chest.

 

His casual claim to her with the usage of part of her real name not only baffled her, but also sparked her curiosity. Was it possible…could the boy actually be…

 

Homuna has certainly become possessive of you these last few weeks, hasn't he? her bemused familiar asked, unwittingly answering her question. Especially for a dragon like him.

 

She frowned slightly, but brushed the last comment off as she said, “Homuna. When did you transform? Well, a more accurate question would be how and why did you transform?” She turned the boy's face to her so she could get a better look at his eyes. They were the same intelligent black eyes that followed every word when she spoke to him or Sora.

 

“When you left I follow. I no able to keep up and I no want you to leave so I knew I had to call you. I no able to call in dragon form so I transform and call you,” he said a little sheepishly, then proudly added, “and it worked, but now you smell worse than dragon stink.”

 

“What's `dragon stink?'” she repeated.

 

When he poops and Sora would make you clean it up, her familiar answered, making her grimace and say, “Never mind.”

 

“While this is all very interesting,” Grent interrupted, “Can we please move somewhere where it is neither open nor as smelly as this area?” With that he pointedly glared at Coran, clearly expecting him to do something about moving the two. When he looked uncertain, Grent heaved an exaggerated sigh and then put his head to Soren's back and started pushing at her, scooting her along the dirt road and making her feel a little like a child.

 

She waved the wolf away as she said, “Alright, alright, I'll get up. You don't have to do that.”

A skeptical look crossed his features as he drew back a little, but he had no room to complain when she did actually stand, Homuna clinging to her chest still. “Well, you're at least coherent this time around and you're not freaking out that I'm talking. It's a start, I suppose, but Farin will need you to do a little more once you are officially crowned queen.”

 

Coran saw it before Grent, how easily a mask of ice settled over her eyes and features as she retreated behind it he was even more unsettled with which the ease she had done it. He had never seen her do it in the seven years that he had known her, but, then, she had only been seven when she had disappeared and he knew from experience that a lot could happen in a decade. “Soren?” he asked and she turned slightly to meet his gaze.

 

“I don't remember your actual name,” she said abruptly. “What is it again?”

 

“Coran,” he supplied.

 

It was as though his name broke the barrier that had been blocking those memories that had not faded from her first few years of life. She closed her eyes for a moment and let them wash over her. A sister, she had a sister named…what? Her father had taken her riding on a griffon. Her mother had a twin. There had been a rebellion in which she had made her first kill as they had tried to kill her mother. She had met the Riagenkai and lightning had shot through her when their eyes met. She'd pestered the young Heshen general into teaching her how to fight with a sword.

 

A gasp feathered across her lips as strong arms swept her into off her feet and the air, Homuna still clutched to her chest. “Is the child yours?” Coran asked, trying to sound neutral and failing miserably to hide his curiosity.

 

She was more distracted by the feeling of being held close to someone than she might have thought possible as she answered, “Yes.”

 

Had he been anyone else she would have either frozen or fought him tooth and nail to get free of his arms. Where another's touch might have revolted her she could feel old tension she had never realized she had harbored begin to slide from her shoulders, a long held burden released.

 

Warmth radiated from his chest through his thin cotton shirt and seeped into her skin, slowly melting away the ice that encased her heart. His musky scent was familiar and yet different, slightly more masculine than what she remembered and yet still as comforting. Whatever she had experienced with this man in her early childhood her body remembered and reacted, releasing all of its tensions as long as he held her.

 

Homuna felt the change in her body and eyed the man suspiciously. What had he done to her? Why did he feel something draining from her body, something bleeding out from her soul? Her scent had not changed, but he knew something was amiss when she closed her eyes and leaned her head against the man's chest. She never did stuff like this not even with Sora, with whom she had been with since he had hatched and long before that he was sure. What if he had hurt her in some way to make her like this?

 

If Homuna could feel the change in her body the same could be said for her. “No,” she said, cracking one eye to look at the young dragon sitting on her stomach. “I'm fine, so don't go attacking him with no good reason.”

 

Coran chose this time to be conveniently deaf as the boy made a tart reply and Soren stated what she thought of his language while he favored sorting through his tangled emotions. There was relief that Grent had finally tracked her down, confusion that she was still alive, regret that he had never searched for her before the Riagenkai had charged him with finding her, anger that the Riagenkai had lied to him all those years ago, hope that his country would finally have a stable ruler, and…fear?

 

When she had looked at him it had been as though the ten years had never happened, as though they were back in the stable and he had discovered her adding burs to Morion's riding saddle. Her eyes then had reflected mingled fear and relief as they had not but a few moments ago, almost as if she couldn't believe that he was standing there. That simple reaction had frozen him, forcing him to come to terms with a notion he had been denying for four long months: she was…changed.

 

She was different and yet the same. She still trusted him, but he wasn't blind to the fact that she held a darker side than she should have been capable of. It was almost as if she had been twisted y another's malicious attempts to break her.

 

Further line of reasoning down that path was made rather difficult as the girl in question shifted her head to snap at the white shape-snow leopard he identified-that had just appeared from thin air.

 

“No, I don't know what that means,” she snapped.

 

There was a short pause as the leopard turned her head and glared at Soren.

 

“You know very well that I don't know you're name,” she half-snarled.

 

Another pause.

 

“So what?”

 

A third pause.

 

“Oh, shut up and go away, why don't you? Shoo, disappear or whatever it is you do.”

 

The leopard bared her sharp teeth in a grin. Soren flushed and turned her head back to his chest.

 

Coran glanced at the wolf loping easily beside them. Grent paid the leopard no mind, as though she were no danger to any of them. He was sure that if the leopard had shown any inclination to attack him or Soren then the wolf would have had the beast pinned and throat ripped out in less than a second. As it stood, her appearance suggested that she was a Kingen or familiar of sorts for Soren.

 

Just to be sure he asked, “Soren?”

 

“Mmm?”

 

“Is the leopard your familiar?”

 

“Unfortunately.”

 

“Lovely,” he said flatly, making her shift slightly to get a clear look at his face.

 

“What? Is there a problem with that? I know that others have familiars or Kingen, so why does it matter that I have one?” she demanded hotly.

 

He took a moment to collect his senses before he made his answer. “There's nothing wrong with that except the people may question why you command two Kingen when their Riagenkai has only ever commanded one,” he responded in the same flat tone. “When did the leopard attach itself to you?”

 

“At birth,” she replied, eyeing him carefully. “I'm not a queen and if he insists that I am his queen then he mistook me for someone else.”

 

Coran snorted softly, his features never changing. “Resilient as always, even when the facts are so clear. How many girls do you think were born to this world and sent to another? How many do you think could escape from this world without the aid of a dragon or royal and have a dragon Riagenkai come to fetch them?”

 

“Point in case taken, but I still say that he's mistaken if he's claiming me as his queen,” she said, feeling an odd floating sensation weaving itself through her heart and brushing against her soul. Carefully, she plucked the feeling and tucked it away where she could find it later.

 

He heaved a heavy sigh as he dropped her legs and tilted his head back to look at the gate that led to a world outside the little town Sora had brought her to. “Farin didn't just claim you,” he said. “He called you his royal, not the ruler of his country. Do you know what it means for a Riagenkai to call you theirs?”

 

“No.” Her tone was flat with an almost dead quality to it. “Perhaps you'll enlighten me?”

 

He was silent for a moment as he struggled to find the words to explain to her what it meant for a Riagenkai to claim a royal. “It means that he will protect you to his dying breath, that he will never disobey you unless he has a damn good reason for it, it means that he would stand between you and the rest of the world if necessary.” It was a sparse explanation, but it was as close as he could come to what it actually meant.

 

Soren felt something inside her that she had thought long since dead stir to life. It spread from the center of her chest all the way down to her toes. Her vision blurred and she blinked against it, unable to understand why she couldn't quite see anymore. So there was someone out there that wanted her around. That didn't mean anything, did it? He was a stranger that she didn't know, that was pursuing her through a man she had dreamed of. She should feel put out that he was trying to find her like he was, that he had torn her from the only world that she had ever known and yet…and yet she couldn't help the relief that flooded through her.