Original Stories Fan Fiction / Other Fan Fiction / Realism Fan Fiction ❯ Darkness Eternal ❯ Ten ( Chapter 11 )

Chapter Ten

Dragons

 

 

Moonlight spilled in through the open window to illuminate the rich bedchamber lavishly decorated with silk wall hangings and ornament furniture, in which sat one silver haired male as he watched two shapes writhed in the bed to his far right. His lip curled into a sneer as the woman moaned.

 

Queen, indeed. Nice try, father, but there is no way in dragon's hell that I would ever accept a defective dragon of yours on a human throne, especially mine. Now, to settle a debt that Morion owes to me and take care of Harimetia in one claw sweep. This should be rather amusing.

 

And then Farin slowly rose to his feet, stretching muscles sore from months of inactivity. His movements went unnoticed by the two in the bed until he stood over them, his gaze smoldering in its intensity. “Welcome to Regenku, daughter of my father,” he said, his voice rippling over them and making them gasp in surprise. He watched dispassionately as Morion and Harimetia scrambled closer to the wall from him, both stinking of fear.

 

A quick glance down spied their clothes. He bent and snatched them from the floor and threw them at Morion. “Get dressed, I have business with the both of you,” he said icily before turning his back to them and retreating a few steps. “Try and attack me while I'm like this and I'll rip your throats out.”

 

Farin trained his ears and honed in on the little movements they were making as they pulled their clothes on to prepare himself for any attack they might have used in an attempt to subdue him again, but neither tried anything. “Are you done?” he asked sharply when their movements stilled.

 

“Yes,” came Harimetia's voice.

 

He turned abruptly to face them. His eyes narrowed as they locked with Harimetia's. “The last time I saw you I was weakened from a battle with Karu over the safety of my queen and you had the aid of Jun and Meturn, but now I'm at full strength and you are alone in my country. You try to pass as human, but you are nothing more than a dragon that will never fly. Give me one reason why I should not kill you?”

 

In truth, killing her would attract too much attention and that would go against Soren's command, but that didn't mean that he couldn't toy with the bitch a little and make her sweat. Morion, on the other hand, might not be so lucky considering the hell he had caused over the last ten years.

 

As it was, he repressed a smirk at the sight of the blood draining from her face and fumbling for words. His gaze shifted to Morion's for a moment and was gratified when the minister flinched away. Farin looked back to Harimetia and snarled softly, taking a step towards her and making her retreat until her calves hit the side of the bed. “Spit it out or I'll send you back to father in pieces.”

 

“Father will be less than pleased if I end up dead, brother,” she finally said, a little breathlessly.

 

“Nonsense. He'll think it's a great joke that I slaughter you and send you back in pieces. You remember the former Riagenkai of this post, do you not?”

 

Harimetia nodded, baffled by the sudden turn in the conversation.

 

“Then you remember that she had a daughter, our older half-sister by our father and you should remember the reason for which the former Riagenkai deserted her post and fled the country.”

 

“The dragon was killed by her ruler. What does this have to do with us?”

 

“Askerin told the ruler how to kill his daughter. So, what makes you think that our father would be displeased by the killing of his defective dragon daughter when he instigated the killing of one of his other daughters whom happened to be a perfectly healthy full-dragon?”

 

He heard her breath catch in her throat, the rhythm of her heart speed up, the stench of her fear almost triple. Studying her for a moment he quietly asked, “Do you know how the false blood-seal broke tonight?” Harimetia slowly shook her head as though afraid that any quick movement would set him off. “With the help of my royal.”

 

Her eyes darted to Morion, who was standing warily off to one side. The man would be no help if it came to a fight with Farin now that he had regained his senses and his strength. So, if she was to survive the night she would have to play along with the Dragon Prince for a time until she could get a strong enough fighting force to handle him.

 

“How?”

 

He shrugged. “She's different than the others before…” he paused, a considering look crossing his features “…sort of before her,” he amended. “She's the one that freed me and the one that ordered I not draw attention until she gets here.”

 

“Here?”

 

Farin shifted his attention to his minister, a dark emotion bubbling just below the surface of his eyes. “Yes, she will be here within the week.” His gaze turned considering for a moment before he added, “Not that you'll ever see her.” And then, he was gone.

 

Morion had just enough time to look around in utter bewilderment before agony exploded through him and he felt the stab of the Riagenkai's razor sharp claw ripping through his dark flesh to clench at his still beating heart. Blood welled from the wound around his wrist, slowly trickling down his arm and Morion's chest in small rivulets. Farin held still for a moment, allowing his minister to clutch at his wrist and gasp for air. “N…no,” he spluttered, coughing blood as he struggled to speak.

 

They went to their knees together as Morion's strength gave out. Farin could feel the man's heart beating in his hand and he hesitated. Though the man had betrayed him savagely over the last ten years he still couldn't forget the time that he had served faithfully and followed every law to the letter. There had been a time when he had mastered his ambitions and let them come second to serving the throne.

 

“You are a minister with experience and you understand the darker workings of the court. If I spare you, would you swear to serve her as you once served me, as faithfully as you were at the beginning?”

 

He nodded once, gripping Farin's wrist even tighter.

 

“Say it,” he commanded. “Swear aloud that you will never disobey my queen.”

 

“I…I swear…never…to disobey…your queen.”

 

Farin released him and let him fall back, his knees bending at an awkward angle, his ruined chest heaving in labored breaths. Blood burst forth and flowed freely as Farin watched him through slanted eyes and rose to his feet, his lean muscles rippling slightly just beneath his bronze skin.

 

“How do you purpose to save him?” Harimetia asked, her face creasing in barely contained fury. “You've put a hole in his chest that not even an imagi can heal.”

 

Farin ignored her as he turned his head to the side and said, “Harina, heal him, but make sure to leave a scar.” At the first word a white wolf materialized beside him and looked solemnly upon Morion as he lay gasping and twitching before she rose to her feet and padded softly to the man's side and put her nose to the wound.

 

A thin, gold glow enveloped her white body and slowly spread to cover Morion's. The flesh and bone squirmed and writhed before it sealed itself with a nasty squelch, leaving behind a thin jagged line that stood out against the skin of his chest and the smearing of crimson that remained to mark the wound. With that Harina lifted her head and looked to Farin for further instruction, disappearing the next instant as though to some unseen gesture from him.

 

Farin watched in chilling silence as Morion took a moment to right his legs and push himself into a sitting position and gingerly touch his skin and trace a finger over the scar. “Let it serve as a reminder of what I'm capable and willing to do,” Farin said softly, his voice feathering over Morion and making the man stiffen in fear. “Betray her and you will wish I had ripped your heart out now.”

 

He didn't give Morion a chance to acknowledge his words before he turned his attention back to Harimetia. “Now, to deal with you, sister,” he half snarled as he watched her shrink away from him. “I know my orders, but make one wrong move and I'll kill you in an instant.”

 

“What-what do I-”

 

“You'll pass no new decrees and you'll amend the ones that you have passed,” he said, his green eyes flashing. “This is not your country and as such any nobles or commoners that you have imprisoned will be released and restored to their full titles. If you've executed anyone then you will compensate their families in either monetary form or food, as their station dictates.”

 

It was true that he had been ordered not to draw attention to himself and that the order was absolute, but that didn't mean that anyone else had to know. Killing the “queen” when he had played the docile Riagenkai the last six months would undoubtedly call too much attention to him and hopelessly complicate the situation before Soren had even arrived to claim what was rightfully hers.

 

“And until such a time that she comes you will not try to send me away, nor will you tell anyone that I've regained my sanity. I will continue to act the puppet, but issue an order that I do not like I will refute you,” he said. “And rest assured, when there is dispute between you and I, my word will be final.”

 

* * *

 

The wind that blew over the dilapidated houses of the capital city was stale and carried with it the scent of unwashed bodies and human refuse. The usually crowded streets were suddenly empty as the three horses ambled slowly past the quietly whispering throng of people that had pushed together as soon as word had spread through their number that the missing Heshen General had finally returned. They looked upon him and the slender teen that rode unconscious with him in shocked amazement, a few even a tad fearful.

 

Where had the Heshen disappeared all these months? Had he been plotting a rebellion and now returned to carry out his plan? Did he wish the throne for himself? What did the girl's presence mean? Was she his mistress? Had the general gone seeking her because she had been in trouble? Did he even have the Riagenkai's or even the queen's permission to have disappeared for such a long time? Did his sudden reappearance have anything to do with the odd weather patterns that they had been experiencing over the last three days?

 

The few that could tear their gazes from the Heshen and his passenger long enough to glance at his men didn't miss that one of them bore a youthful female with silver hair, a fair complexion, and a slight build. They had little to wonder over her before they lost sight of her, leaving a murmuring ripple that would soon spread to the rest of the city.

 

Coran's jaw was set as he rode closer to the palace. He could hear snatches of the people's conversation, but he chose to ignore it as he focused on keeping Soren as shielded as possible. No sooner than they had crossed the border between Jesira and Regenku three days previously and Sora had joined the queen in slumber. No warning, no nothing and the she-dragon had dropped like a stone.

 

Four days, four, and Soren had still not woken since the she-dragon had knelt to her. With her sudden drop from consciousness the two familiars had disappeared, taking with them the only source that he might have been able to pry from the exact nature of what had happened and when Soren could be expected to waken.

 

Casting a side long glance at the dragon he couldn't help the stab of dislike that shot through him. Since the woman had joined them things had gone from bad to worse. Soren had been at least somewhat friendly towards them, but that had changed the moment that she had caught whiff of the dragon and then, less then a day later, Sora had done something to the young queen before succumbing to the effects of whatever spell she had cast.

 

Still, he wouldn't let himself dwell on what was. He had to focus on the here and now. Settling his features into a mask of stone etched with the authority his position commanded he looked ahead at the palace and silently revised what he would tell the rest of the court and his men when he arrived. He knew that there had been rumors passed around that his disappearance had branded him a traitor or a plotter for the throne. It had happened before and he had no intentions of believing that that they would think otherwise. His main concern would be to reestablish his power amongst his own men and force whatever usurper had risen to take his place back into submission. There would be no trouble from the Riagenkai, of that he was certain, and so it was merely a matter of challenging the current “Heshen” as he had done eleven years previously.

 

“Strange weather,” he heard Maixim mutter under his breath just before the first bolt of lightning struck not ten feet from them in a shower of dirt clumps. The people that had so recently watched them fled in panic for the nearest shelter in which they could hide until the storm passed.

 

The horses neighed their terror and rolled their eyes as they bolted and ran sporadically down the road, bucking as they went. Coran fought his stallion for its head while attempting to keep one arm around Soren's waist, his legs gripping the horse's flanks tightly so they didn't go flying. Lightning crashed down into the building directly to their left and filled the air with a danger electrical charge. Flames burst into life and Coran's horse screamed, bucking all the harder as it ran.

 

The reins were slipping. Up. Down. Up. Down. The world was spinning, his teeth grinding violently together. Up. Down. Up. Down. His legs were loosening. Up. Down. Up. Down. His grip was slowly escaping him. Up. Down. Up. Down. The world tilted as he lost his balance and he was thrown into the air.

 

The wind whistled in his ears before the ground rushed up to meet him in a blur of color. He landed heavily on his shoulder, breaking the full force of their fall with a sickening crack. With a grunt of pain his arm went limp and Soren rolled away from him as he slowly pushed himself into a sitting position and scanned the area for Maixim, Torun, and the two dragons, only to find the streets empty to the flames as a half dozen people gathered around it and made attempts to control it. That was the moment it chose to begin the torrential down pour.

 

The rain quickly soaked him through to the bone, extinguished the flames, and drove those that had been brave enough to face the flames. The dirt around them became mud as the rain continued its onslaught. In the distance lightning persisted to strike within the city walls.

 

As he climbed unsteadily to his feet he suppressed a grimace of pain and used his good hand to haul Soren over his shoulder, struggling with her weight for a moment. How the girl managed to stay out of it through the lightning, fire, and flight was beyond him. He shook his head to dispel the thought. First thing first, he had to find them a dry place to wait out the storm out and he could get his shoulder looked at.

 

* * *

 

Not a sound escaped his lips as the kindly woman that had taken them in for the storm set his shoulder with a pronounced pop. She swept her brown hair back from her brown eyes and fixed him with a questioning glance before she turned to busy herself with the thin stew that would serve as her and her families dinner. “Will the girl eat with us?” she asked, barely sparing the slender youth on her sleeping mat a look.

 

Coran shifted his gaze to Soren and suppressed a grimace. “No, I doubt it,” he answered, rotating his shoulder as he carefully lowered himself onto the mat.

 

“You really shouldn't be doing that,” the woman said, watching him out of the corner of her eye. “Even the former general-”

 

“Current,” he growled under his breath.

 

“-has his limits and I very highly doubt that even the likes of you could challenge the current Heshen with a shoulder that you just recently dislocated,” she finished as though he had not interrupted her. “When do you suppose she'll wake?”

 

He paused and a dark look flitted over his features. “She hasn't woken in the last four days.”

 

The woman gave him a startled look, momentarily forgetting the pot that sat over the licking flames. “Were you traveling alone?” she asked, the question coming before she could stop it. A blush stained her cheeks and she dropped her gaze from his angry look and hid her face behind the curtain of her hair.

 

“As it stands, we were separated from our four companions when the first lightning struck. It's rather hard to keep track of each other when the horses are trying to kill you so they can get away from the fires, wouldn't you agree?” he asked, keeping a firm grip on his temper. The woman had no way of knowing that the girl she housed was her queen. She had no idea that the Riagenkai had ordered him after the teen. “You must have heard of us coming through the market if you weren't there yourself.”

 

There was a strained silence that seemed to stretch endlessly between them. Coran was content to sit on the end of the mat where Soren lay and let it continue. Why should he care if the woman thought him a common snatcher or worse?

 

“Actually,” she said quietly. “I didn't know you were back until I saw you in the streets with her. My husband and children were out at the market, it's true, but I've been at the palace all day with most of the other city healers and haven't had a chance to find out what's happening since the storm began.” Try as she might she couldn't entirely repress the worry she felt and Coran heard it seep into her words.

 

He felt his anger deflate. So, that was what it was. Her husband and children were somewhere else waiting the storm out and she was worried that they had gotten themselves caught in the middle. He had wondered why she had been the only one when she had invited them in, perhaps in the hopes that he could tell her something of what had transpired in the moments before the storm struck.

 

Rubbing a hand across the back of his neck he watched as she stirred the stew. Maybe he hadn't seen anything of importance, but that didn't mean he could just sit there without offering at least a word of reassurance, as his consciences dictated he should. Turning his head to the side so he wouldn't have to look at her he said, “”If its any solace I didn't see anyone set to flame when the first lightning struck. Everyone watching us fled at the first strike and when it started raining as it is now it put out the fire that the second bolt had begun.”

 

She nodded and said, “Thank you.” Her voice was low and rough, conveying what she couldn't put into words.

 

Feeling suddenly uncomfortable he abruptly changed the subject. “Which noble was it that fell ill? Or was it the whole lot of them that the palace imagi couldn't deal with and had to draw on the city healers?”

 

Coran didn't have to see her face to know that her features had darkened with the way her shoulders and back stiffened. “We wouldn't have tended to those bastards even if they had paid us, with the exception of the Kiragashi heir. It was the Riagenkai that fell ill. They wanted us to pool our knowledge and create a cure for him.”

 

He felt his blood run cold. He could hear his heart pounding in his throat. Farin ill? How was that even possible? Weren't dragons resistant to every sickness? Had it been a spell that had rendered him ill? If so, how powerful was such a spell and who was the caster? Who would be powerful enough to even cast such a spell on as powerful a Riagenkai as Farin?

 

His eyes shifted to Soren.

 

A ruler had a powerful hold over their Riagenkai and if they so chose they could render them completely crippled with a well worded command. Was she such a queen that would cripple her Riagenkai if it suited her purpose? She had been gone for ten years and he himself had admitted that she was different. Could what have happened to her in those intervening years have corrupted her to the point that she would turn on her dragon guardian?

 

“How long ago did he fall ill?”

 

He heard the words, but they sounded as though spoken from another's mouth.

 

“Three days,” she answered.

 

The same day as Sora, the former Riagenkai to the same post. The same day that the strange weather patterns had begun. A day after Soren had lost consciousness. Were they all connected? Was it possible that what had happened to Sora was somehow related to Farin's illness?

 

“What are the symptoms?”

 

She finally turned to face him and followed his line of sight. Confusion briefly flickered through her before she answered, “That's the odd thing. He was passing in and out of consciousness the entire time we were with him. There were bouts of sweating and extreme cold, his pupils were bigger than they should have been, and he wouldn't eat anything when we tried to serve him food. His symptoms fit a host of diseases and illnesses, but none fit perfectly. Everything we tried had no effect on him whatsoever. He dismissed us when the sun began disappearing from his balcony.”

 

Coran looked at her, surprise flitting across his features. “He was awake?”

 

“Yes, but his strength was fading,” she said quietly, turning back to stare into the stew. “It was like something was draining him.”

 

He cast Soren a side long glance. Was it possible that she was draining him to add to her own strength? But if that was so then why had Sora collapsed and not awoken since? Was the she-dragon just as susceptible to the whims of a corrupt ruler as the current Riagenkai? Had she disavowed all her ties to the post and was somehow suffering from the backlash of some powerful spell that Soren had cast? Or was Soren suffering from a spell that Sora had cast on her and Farin was suffering from the backlash?

 

Outside the rain thundered against the thatched roof, setting its own irregular beat. Coran rubbed a hand across his forehead and let it slide away from him. Right now wasn't the time to be worrying about such matters. He would have time later to probe it and get to the bottom of it all later, but right now he had to wait out the storm and hope that he could find the others afterwards before they reported back to the palace.

 

* * *

 

Sight, sound, color, taste, smells, and shapes all blurred together in a whirlwind of structured chaos that presented themselves to her and forged a tie as none before her had. A flood, an outward pouring of strength. A drawing, surging of overwhelming power being drawn into her.

 

She could sense that whatever was taking her strength was doing so because it was hers to care for, hers to protect just as the strength flowing into her was from her protectors. She knew without realizing she knew that whatever was connecting itself to her had suffered for a long time and was seeking to correct the wrongs committed against it with her strength. It was trying to set itself to rights. It was calling to her as it had never called before. She was the rightful heir, the one that would forever rule. So long as she lived it would draw on her, not for itself but for those that depended on it.

 

It was easing, the surging was lessening. The in pouring strength dwindled. Soon, all too soon, she would be alone again.

 

* * *

 

Sea green eyes opened to look clearly at the room for the first time in three days. Exhaustion threatened to overwhelm him as he tried to push himself into a sitting position. His muscles screamed as though he had been through a round with a herd of griffons and come out on the losing end.

 

Farin fell back against the sweat soaked blankets and stared dully up at the white ceiling, silently pondering the consequences of his current weakness. He had been completely drained by Soren for dragon's hell knew what, though he wouldn't have resisted had he even been able to, and now he was almost defenseless among the treacherous ministers of the court. If Harimetia had gotten word out to their father that he had woken then they were worse off than a headless purple cow being burned at the stake as a witch.

 

Considering the length of time it had last taken him to get to the Trestri Mountains in the worst of conditions the Dragon Officials would most certainly be to the palace with a day to bind him again. There would be more than just Jun and Meturn as his father would expect him to be at least at half strength by the time the other dragons arrived. If, somehow, Harimetia hadn't sent word then the ministers would act against him and try to restrict his movements, in “concern for his continued health.”

 

Either scenario would end with him restricted, with the ministers in more power, and Harimetia still firmly the undisputed Queen of Regenku. A frown creased his lips. There had to be a way around it all. If he had someone he could trust…if there were just some noble that could…

 

A movement caught his eye and Farin turned his head to look at the monkey Kingen that stared balefully in at him from his balcony. Of course, how had he forgotten? She was the one other than Coran that he had trusted these past ten years despite her youth and she was here, now when he most needed her. He had been there when her position and title had been restored.

 

Slowly levering himself into a sitting position he said, “Come, Fayra. I know your Kingen rarely ever leaves your side.”

 

The soft scuffing of leather against granite stone reached his ears a moment before the slender, red haired Kiragashi heir came into view. Keen, clear silver eyes met his and danced with unhidden joy. “I was beginning to wonder if you would ever wake, Riagenkai,” she said softly. “What happened?”

 

“Your sister,” he replied, his tone just as soft and a smile curving at his lips. “She drew on me and now she's somewhere in the city unconscious.”

 

“Here? Now?” Fayra asked, her gaze sharpening. “Do you have even the vaguest of ideas where she might be? If she's unconscious then she could be in danger from common thieves or worse. Tell me and I'll go for her, just me.”

 

Farin considered her. She was strong despite her build, but would she be able to withstand the raging storm? No…Coran was with Soren. They would be fine without Fayra trying to find them. Instead he said, “No, I have need of you here. I need you to do something for me.”

 

* * *

 

Within the cold thatched hut they had taken refuge in three of four figures huddled together for warmth and company. Homuna watched Sora from Torun's lap as she began to stir and groan weakly.

 

The two guards jumped when the younger dragon gave a shout of joy and leapt up to close the distance between him and Sora. They watched in bewilderment as Homuna landed lightly on Sora's chest and the older dragon swatted sleepily at him. “G'way,” she muttered and rolled over onto her side, dumping him to the side.

 

Lightning chose that moment to flash and thunder crashed through an instant later, the sheer intensity of the sound shaking the walls. Sora shot to her feet faster than a cat with a dog on its tail and promptly fell spread eagle on her back as her strength gave out and failed her.

 

 

“Ya'll right?” Maixim asked warily.

 

“Great,” Sora rasped. “Just great. Where's Soren?”

 

Torun and Maixim exchanged heavy glances before the former answered, “With the Heshen.”

 

“And they are where?” she prompted, turning her head to glare at them. “Let me guess. We got separated from them sometime after I fell unconscious and now we're back in the capital city while they're lost somewhere in this wasteland you call a country.”

 

A wryly grin twisted at Torun's lips as he said, “Actually, you've only been out of it for about three days. The queens been unconscious for four and we got separated from her and the Heshen about the time the lightning started a few hours ago.”

 

Sora eyed him skeptically for a moment before turning her attention to Homuna, who was tugging insistently at her sleeve. “Yes, youngling?” she asked, her voice taking the soothing tone a mother would with a frightened child. Homuna might have looked four or five, but he was no more than a few months and any extended time away from Soren was bound to put a strain on his nerves.

 

“Soren fine. She in city. You know where?” he asked eagerly.

 

“Sorry, but no,” she sighed.

 

“You stand?” he asked. “We fin` her.”

 

Sora smiled slightly at the enthusiasm she heard in his voice. “No strength, youngling, means that I can't hunt with you,” she answered with chagrin. Sora repressed a wince when she saw him visibly deflate and hastily added, “So that means that we have to wait for her to come and find us.”

 

Homuna instantly brightened. “She fin' us?”

 

“She'll find us.”

 

* * *

 

Coran sat with his back to the rough wood, his front facing the door, Soren to his right and the woman to his left. His hand rested on the hilt of his sword, his eyelids drifting shut of their own accord. As one of the youngest Heshen Generals in the country's history he was a skilled and disciplined warrior able to go days without eating or sleeping and with as long as Soren had been out cold he had done neither, driving them all mercilessly until the horses had nearly died of exhaustion in his wish to get her to the Riagenkai as quickly as possible.

 

Now, however, they were in the city trapped by a storm that was showing no inkling as to letting up any time soon, the very Riagenkai that he had sought turned out to be ill as well, and he himself was succumbing to what even the best of warriors fell to: exhaustion. The heavy rainfall against the roof was soothing in an odd sort of way. There were no enemies to be fought.

 

Everyone else was asleep. He'd just close his eyes for a moment. He wouldn't actually fall asleep. Everything was peaceful. His eyes closed and his head dropped to his chest not long after that, unaware of the approach of a dragon.

 

* * *

 

The last rages of the storm finally broke near sunset as court was finally wrapping up for the day. Harimetia cast a nervous glance about the ministers for the hundredth time that day, her gaze coming to rest on the Kiragashi heir and her brother. Every minister shifted uneasily at the sight of their Riagenkai watching them with such open malice in his eyes. Though he had been sick for three days and away from the court he knew that they had attempted to pass restrictions, but his abrupt recovery had put an end to their plans as he had destroyed the rolls that had contained the new laws.

 

Fayra leaned closer to him and he inclined his head the better to hear her. A thoughtful frown creased his lips as Harimetia continued to watch the pair. The she-dragon felt a chill trickle through her stomach as his eyes flicked to her's and she saw anger flash in his green orbs. Did he know that she had sent word to their father?

 

Farin looked back to Fayra as she continued reporting what her guards had discovered that afternoon in regards to the minister's and other noble's forces. As he had suspected Harimetia had taken the liberty to instruct them to build up their weaponry and mass their combined strength for an attack against him if the Dragon Officials didn't arrive within the next day.

 

“Thank you,” he said, his tone clearly dismissing the young heir.

 

She hesitated, her silver eyes tracing the contours of his angry features. “You're not alone in this,” Fayra said softly. “If you'll let me, I can mass my own guards and have them ready when the time comes.”

 

“Return to your aunt,” he said gruffly. “She'll be worried if you don't show for dinner, tonight most especially.”

 

“Yes, Riagenkai,” she murmured, ignoring the disappointed pangs she felt. She turned and began her retreat back to her guards and felt rather than saw the dragon begin stalking back to the “queen.” Her grim faced men eyed the royal soldiers with distrust as they closed ranks around her, each resting a hand on the hilt of their swords.

 

“Any luck?” one broad shouldered guard with lanky brown hair asked. “Shall we muster our strongest and prepare to fight with the Riagenkai?”

 

Fayra rubbed a hand across the back of her neck as she made a show of slowly edging towards the double doors. Her voice was quiet and the man had to lean close to hear as she said, “He did not reconsider, but yes I wish you to gather your strongest and prepare to fight, Captain Lorcun.”

 

“If we succeed then what will happen to the throne? The people are on the verge of revolt and if the queen should be killed in this farce they will see to it that our heads are stuck on sticks for the carrions to peck at,” he responded just as quietly.

 

She absently flipped her hair from her neck and cast a long look at the captain of her guard, considering if she could trust him with this information as she did her life. Finally she said, “We have no need to worry about the throne. Farin will take the necessary steps to secure the safety of his royal.” A look of surprise flickered across his features, but he did not question her further as he nodded.

 

Her eyes flicked to Farin for a moment and she noted that Harimetia shrank from him as though he carried the plague. It did not escape her notice that the air shivered around him as he took his place at the right hand side of the throne. Swallowing compulsively at the implications of the return of his Kingen she turned her attention back to her path and guards. “Make sure to have your men ready by evening, Lorcun, I have every confidence we'll need them tonight.”

 

The evening gave way to dusk and dusk to night before Farin was finally able to track Fayra down to her family quarters. There was little time as there was no knowledge of when the ministers would attack, though he suspected it would be around midnight before they did anything. He rapped at the wood three times before quietly opening the door and easing inside and closing it just as silently.

 

There was a slight rustling of cloth behind him and when he turned to peer into the darkness that cloaked the main room. She stood by the window dressed in brown breeches and a dark blue cotton shirt that accented her young figure. He noted with some amusement that she had tied her hair back in an attempt to keep it out of her face.

 

“Are you ready? We won't have a lot of time to find her tonight,” Farin said softly as he strode up slowly beside her. He studied her upturned visage as she gazed at him. “Are you sure you wish to go with me? You could stay here…” his voice trailed off as a smile crossed her lips.

 

“No, I wish to go with you,” she said softly.

 

“As you wish,” he replied.

 

Together they left, their steps quieter than a feather fluttering on the wind.

 

* * *

 

A crescent moon cast its light over the city, lighting their steps. Those that lingered to sift through the ruins that the recent storm had wrought skittered nervously away at the sight of the silver haired male and his companion. Even the lowest of thieves knew the appearance of their Riagenkai within the city cloaked in the darkness of night could not bode well for any that crossed his path. As to the younger woman they paid her no mind.

 

Farin paused, turning his head to look at a pair of thatched houses to his left, a grim frown creasing his features. “This part of the city has become run down in these last ten years and I never knew,” he commented. “I suppose it never really had the chance to recover after the fire the armies set.”

 

Fayra gave him a long, searching look. “I don't remember. There have been so many stories I've been told that I don't know which to believe. Was he really as horrible a king as I've heard or are those just exaggerated rumors?”

 

“No,” he answered after a pause. They had passed several more houses before he continued, “Not in the beginning he wasn't, nor during his later years as king. It was near the end that Morion and the other ministers made him believe that I had turned against him. They twisted him to the point that his sanity broke and forced my hand in executing my first royal.” He spoke without regret. The memory of his first ruler no longer pained him as it had before he had come to terms with the betrayal.

 

“Then what of the others these last ten years?”

 

“Some were assassinated, others I had to execute because they were too greedy and neglected the land and its people,” he said almost absently, turning his head from side to side.

 

“And…my sister? What will you do if she betrays the throne or refuses?” she asked so softly any but a dragon would have missed the words.

 

He turned his face slightly so he could see her. “Her fate is not sealed like the rest. She has been queen in title since the age of seven and if she-” His words were cut short as his nostrils flared at an unwelcome scent and his neck snapped around until he was staring at a house that could have passed as ordinary.

 

Fayra, horrified by what he had just said, opened her mouth to ask him what he meant, but he silenced her with a quick slash of his hand through the air. She followed his gaze to the nondescript hut and felt her confusion redouble.

 

“I may have miscalculated,” he breathed. “Stay at my back and if it proves to be dangerous, you'll flee.”

 

Without waiting for her to answer him he started towards the house, tension of every kind concealed within his muscles. When he stood just outside of the door he stopped and scanned the interior of the hut until his eyes passed over the forms of two sleeping males hunched against the far wall and came to rest on the form of a silver haired female laying on the dirt flooring. Her head turned to him and their eyes met and locked. He felt Fayra brush his elbow as she peered around him to see the dragon.

 

“You!” Farin growled, fighting to keep his temper under control. Though he had only seen her once within his father's courts he had never forgotten the face of the woman whose betrayal had forced him into an unwanted position.

 

A slow smile curved her lips as she retorted, “Well met, princeling. I'm surprised you've regained your strength so fast after she drained us.”

 

He ignored her jibe and focused on her last words as he asked, “And what do you mean by she drained us? For that reason, why are you even here? You know that once you abandon your post the Dragon Officials will execute you should ever get caught.”

 

The smile faded. “Oh, I'm sure your father has other plans for me should that ever happen. Now, why don't you scamper along and find her. You'll keep her safe from the Officials better than I tonight when they do finally show.”

 

Farin felt his blood chill. “Why would it be tonight?”

 

“We entered the country this morning if Torun's words are right. Your father always was quite adept at keeping tabs on me while I remained within this country, so I wouldn't be surprised if he had a spell set up specifically set to trigger when I came back. If he doesn't come himself then the other Officials shall be here tonight.”

 

“He'd really…come himself?” he asked, feeling the ground sway beneath him.

 

“Yes,” she said simply. “Drained as you are and free of that false seal he wouldn't be able to pass up the opportunity to see what sort of new suffering he can inflict on you, especially not when a female dragon and young hatchling is thrown in.”

 

His interest piqued despite the need to find Soren and hide her until it was safe, his eyes flicked to the small boy curled into her side. The boy's eyes were turned to him and reflected the moon as easily as Sora's. His scent had been masked by the older dragon's and his form was such that if one didn't look for him then they would pass right over him. “Riagenkai,” the boy muttered. “Sor's other dragon. Fin' her afore monster dragon gobbles her down.”

 

“How-” he began.

 

“Not now, princeling. I've answered all the questions I'm willing to tonight. Follow that strange pull and you'll find her. When you do, return to the palace,” she said, a grim smile settling over her features. “If we all survive the night then I'll find you in the morning and answer whatever question is eating away at you.”

 

* * *

 

His spine stiffened as a slight breeze from the doorway washed over him, jolting him into awareness. Coran's head snapped around at the slight movement out of the corner of his eye, the last clinging remnants of sleep draining from him instantly. His blood chilled as he took in the slim figure of his Riagenkai kneeling beside Soren.

 

“Glad to see you're awake, Heshen,” Farin said softly, his voice holding a dangerous edge, “especially when there are dangers lurking in the shadows.”

 

Coran felt the heat rise to his face, but he did not reply. What could one say to the shame of being caught asleep in the line of duty and especially on such an important task? He stood and brushed the dirt from his breeches, not daring to meet the dragon's hard gaze.

 

Farin let the matter rest as he gently slid an arm under Soren's neck and lifted her into his arms. Fayra stood to the side and let him pass, shooting the Heshen a scathing glance before keeping pace with Farin and turning her head slightly so she could see the sister she had often heard about but never remembered.

 

The missing Kiragashi heir, the true heir to their family. She felt a shiver trickle over her spine at the thought. Since the disappearance of their father during the last revolt against Farin she had been brought up as the sole heir to the Kiragashi family and now that the Riagenkai had returned Soren to Regenku she was suddenly left unsure of her role within the courts.

 

She felt a tickle at the back of her mind as her Kingen brushed against consciousness, worry emanating from his being. I'm fine. It's nothing to worry yourself over, she tried to assure him, but worry still emanated from him.

 

There is that and then there is also the approach of several dragons. They will be here momentarily, the familiar said responded before withdrawing back into himself.

 

“Farin,” she said, feeling a chill slide across her skin. “Dorus says there are several dragons approaching us. He thinks they'll be here so-ahhhhhh!!” She threw her arms over her face as Farin shoved her back and covered her with his body. The soft scuff of boots against the dirt road reached her ears as she felt the Heshen move closer to her back, the better to cover her and the Riagenkai.

 

“So, this is the elusive royal you've been looking for,” a pleasant, cultured voice commented, “and it's a woman.”

 

Fayra felt him tense against her arms and felt her blood turn to ice. Were these the dragons that that the other dragon and Dorus had spoken of? Had they come to bind Farin again, to force him to accept Harimetia as his queen once more and kill Soren?

 

“Hello, Father,” Farin said as pleasantly as he could manage to the lean and powerfully framed dragon standing before him. He let Soren's legs drop and leaned her head against his shoulder as he lowered his hand to rest on the pommel of his sword, all the while his eyes never leaving his father.

 

Askerin felt a faint smirk pull at his lips at his son's actions. “What say you just surrender the humans to us and I won't make things any more difficult than they need to be?” he said. “No need for there to be more bloodshed than there has to be, especially considering the rebellion that we'll be helping you to crush tonight.”

 

A low growl ripped through Farin's chest as his arm tightened protectively around Soren's shoulders. His ears noted the sound of Fayra's harsh breathing and the slight ring of metal against leather as Coran drew his sword. “No,” he said softly. “You'll have to kill me to get at her. I won't just hand her to you, you worthless freak of a bastard.”

 

There was no warning, no sleight of hand that might have helped them predict the attack. When asked later all Fayra could be sure of was the fact that Farin threw her sister at her and drew his sword in one fluid, graceful movement and then the ringing of steel on steel filled both the chilling air of the night and her ears. Their shapes blurred, the rate at which they were exchanging blows steadily increasing.

 

Fayra risked a glance over her shoulder and saw Coran holding his sword steady in the face of the two dragons to their rear. She looked back to the three that flanked them where Farin had stood. For the moment, the dragons didn't seem interested in attacking them, instead focusing all their attention on the fight between their King and Prince. A half scream, half roar of agony wrenched her attention back to the fight at hand and she felt her stomach drop at the sight of Farin impaled on his father's sword, his own blade dropped and forgotten somewhere in the night.

 

He didn't waste a moment before he pulled free of the blade and spun away. Askerin abandoned his blade as Farin came in for a close quarters fight. Claws flashed, snarls and growls echoed. A thud. A groan. A roar of pain. The metallic scent of blood hung heavy in the air.

 

Askerin straddled Farin's waist, his left claw plunged deeply into the younger dragon's shoulder. “You never could live up to that power of your's,” he said, a smirk flitting across his visages. Twisting his claw a little he elicited another half scream from his son. “How strong do you think the seal would be if done with the blood of your own ruler?” he asked softly, relishing the fear his saw flickering in Farin's eyes.

 

Fayra's grasp tightened involuntarily around Soren's waist, her voice lost in the face of the struggle she was witnessing. Never before had she seen their dragon guardian so easily overpowered and pinned. Every battle she had witnessed with him she had seen him overcome the sheer numbers of men through strength of will and determination alone and now he was facing a single dragon he had no hope of defending himself against, with five others waiting for a signal or order.

 

Her muscles rippled slightly as she felt Soren's head shift in response to another half scream from Farin. Warmth flooded her stomach in the form of hope when she felt her strength flowing out of her. She dropped her barriers and allowed her sister full access to any power she might have. At the back of her mind another barrier dropped and Dorus's strength flowed through her to help strengthen the young queen.

 

Soren opened her eyes, silver pools of ice reflecting in the dim moon. “Grent, Chimadori,” she said softly and she felt the barriers between them drop as she sealed herself to the girl holding her. The energy flowed from them into her body, building up long depleted reserves.

 

Enough, she instructed Chimadori when she felt she had taken enough and then sealed the barriers between them. Shut away within her own mind she took careful stock of the situation and formed a plan. She pulled free of Fayra's arms and took a step forward, feeling an odd jolt as the foreign energy aligned itself to better suit her.

 

“Coran,” she said, pausing mid-step. “When they attack don't try to fight them head on, just grab her and run. Chimadori and Grent will help where they can.”

 

At the sound of her voice, the five dragons shifted their attention to her and watched her movements as she paced slowly nearer to their King and Prince. They closed ranks around the three humans when she reached the outer edge of their “guard.” Her eyes flickered for a brief moment before she asked, “Will you let me pass or will I have to fight you?”

 

Askerin finally looked up, the smile sliding momentarily from his lips as he took in the sight of the slender, red haired youth. “What are you waiting for?” he snarled at the other dragons. “Kill them.” He shoved Farin back down as the Riagenkai tried to struggle free of his grasp.

 

A singularly chilling smile crossed her features when the dragons moved to obey the command, three going for her while the other two closed in on Fayra and Coran. Without pausing to think the action through she slid under the guard of the first that was bringing his claw through the air to strike at her and jabbed her elbow into his unprotected armpit.

 

This fight was nothing like her first, clumsy awkward farce with Karu, or the subsequent fights she had endured with Jestiry and Sora. Her movements were graceful and flowed almost as though she was dancing, her hair flying like fire. Shifting her weight from one foot to the other she would turn her body just enough to avoid a strike that might have done her in, or she would spin away from one and allow the momentum to carry her into a punch directed at another's gut.

 

Her foot struck something solid and sent it skittering across the dirt. Not missing a beat she scooped up the cold hilt of a sword and brought it chest level as she followed the circling dragons, keeping one eye on the dragon that was slowly trying to enter into one of her blind spots.

 

By this time a loose gathering of humans had stuck their heads out of their doors or windows to see what the commotion was about. They paled when they saw their silver haired Riagenkai pinned beneath another male and struggling with him with little to no hope of breaking free of him.

 

Coran struggled to keep the two dragons circling him and the Kiragashi heir at bay. He could feel Fayra's labored breaths as they came back to back again. Even with the two of them and the three familiars fighting they were having difficulty dealing with the two and had acquired a good smattering of nicks and cuts, Coran having received a long slash across the back from one of their claws.

 

“How are you with a sword?” he asked, tracking the dragon closest to him.

 

It took her a moment to realize that he was speaking to her. She shifted the dagger in her hand a little as she answered, “I'm better at long range fighting than close combat. What does that have to do with anything now, though?”

 

Her tone was clipped, but she Coran didn't seem to notice as he answered, “I can fight almost as well with a dagger. Switch me blades and it'll even out the odds a little.”

 

“Now?” she asked uncertainly. It was true that she would fare better with a sword than with a dagger, but to let the blade pass from her hand in the middle of a fight with two dragons seemed a little foolhardy.

 

“Yes,” he said and she felt him shift slightly. Fayra almost instinctively mimicked his movements as he shifted grips on his sword and passed the hilt back to her. She took the hilt and swung the sword forward as she handed back her dagger at almost the same moment. The instant she felt his hand close around the hilt of her blade the dragons closed in.

 

Grent and Chimadori positioned themselves to either side, neither allowing their weariness to show. Bracing their bodies they sprang into the attack and engaged one of their attackers each. The humans joined them and together they switched back and forth to keep the dragons on their toes, alternating between close quarters and long range attacks.

 

Coran proved to be quicker on his feet with a shortened blade and soon he had inflicted as many wounds as he had received. Fayra was a little clumsy with the unfamiliar weight, but she was adept enough with it that she blocked more than half their strikes and deflected all their lethal aimed attacks.

 

Farin gripped his father's wrist tighter and drew the King's attention back to him. “What do you gain from this? You can't expand beyond the borders of the Trestri mountains, so what's in it for you?” he spat bitterly at the man that had tormented him for as long as he could remember.

 

Askerin graced his son with a cold smile. “Karu didn't teach you very well, did he? As much as I enjoy the struggle and bloodshed, you as the only true Dragon Heir are a threat that could usurp me at any moment as I did with your grandfather. The sooner I get you back under control the sooner I can go back to being the bastard I like to be.”

 

A bellowed oath and scream drew Askerin's attention back to the fight just in time to watch as Soren came out of a spin with her sword level with her chest, crimson dripping from its blade. One of his guards was clutching at his side where she had sliced at his ribs as another lay unconscious some feet away from her, a pool of blood spreading slowly from his head.

 

Her silver eyes found the third and he visibly flinched away from her gaze. Something about the way his brown eyes flickered tugged at her memory. She smiled slightly as she let the tip of her sword drop a fraction of an inch. “You're the one that warned me,” she said.

 

Askerin felt rage flood his body as he watched his enchanter and knew the truth. The little worm had found a way in which to disobey him. He had reached out to the girl and done more than just try and turn her to their side or kill her. Well, he'd deal with the bastard later.

 

Farin tilted his head back to look at the last dragon facing his queen. Then his blood turned to molten lava as his father released a burst of his power into him. His vision reddened around the edges as a scream of agony ripped through the night.

 

Soren reacted before she consciously made the decision to move. She pivoted and rushed the Dragon King, her speed increasing with every step. The sword whistled as it swung through the air.

 

Silver flashed.

 

Sparks flared.

 

Blood pulsed freely.

 

Hatred glimmered in her eyes, cracking her perfect mask for the first time in the four years since she had crafted it. She tipped the blade forward a little and pressed its edge closer to his throat despite the claw he was using to restrain it. “Remove your hand from him,” she said softly, her voice wrapping around his mind like a snake., “and I might not slit your throat.”

 

The Dragon King slowly straightened, his bloody claw retracting from Farin's shoulder. As he stood Soren made sure to follow his movements with the tip of her sword pressing at his throat. “Now, call your dragons off,” she said.

 

Farin struggled into a sitting position and then rose to his feet with a visible effort. Staggering a bit from exhaustion and fatigue he straightened and moved to Soren's side, following an instinct that told him he could better protect her beside her and be better protected himself. A slight breeze ruffled their hair and brought with it a scent that made all the conscious dragons stiffen and glance toward the upper roofs of the buildings.

 

Soren, who could not catch slight scents on the wind, dug the tip of her blade into Askerin's neck with enough force to draw a thin ribbon of crimson. “Call them off,” she repeated softly.

 

His dark eyes flicked to her again. “You play a dangerous game, girl,” he snarled quietly. “Horkin, Kintun, back down and return to me.”

 

They moved with such startling swiftness, such ease that Soren barely had time to turn her head to look at them before they were on her. Their double attack caught her off guard when they each landed a punch to her side and she staggered back into Farin, the sword still clutched in her hand. His arms closed around her waist and he swung her away from the two guards as they gathered themselves. She felt his muscles contract as their attacks made contact, but no sound escaped his lips.

 

Warmth slicked her shoulder and she had to repress a shudder when she realized just how badly he was wounded. If they didn't end this soon then he would die from excessive blood loss. Tonight, he could not stand as her protector as he had that day so many months ago.

 

One arm dropped from her waist as he crouched into a defensive position and drew her to his chest in the same motion. Glancing around she saw through the shadows that the three other dragons had taken to circling them again. Coran stood tensely to the side, unsure of what to do in the face of their opponents. Fayra looked ready to collapse at any moment from the way the tip of her sword trailed against the ground and the weariness expressed in her tried movments. Only the enchanter hung back, more than willing to stay out of the fight.

 

Her eyes lingered on him for a moment. He had to hate his king, the way he had warned her of Farin and half hearted fighting he had used against her. She was sure that if he had just stepped up his effort even a little he and the other two could have easily overwhelmed her. As it stood, they were still facing three dragons and if he wanted to stay clear of it then he was more than welcome to follow that path.

 

A flutter of cloth on the breeze caught her attention and drew her eyes to the roof of one of the nearby houses. There, silhouetted against the darkness and shadows was a crouched form that made her stomach turn over. Another dragon? How many had the bastard brought with him?

 

She gave no more thought to the matter as she broke free of Farin's grasp and took up a position at his back, the better to defend themselves from any attack they might launch. No sooner had she raised her sword than Askerin passed into her peripheral vision, a cold smirk fixed on his lips.

 

“You're much more entertaining than the last few he's chosen,” he said, his voice sliding over her like a snake slithering through grass. “Certainly more so than my useless daughter. If you had been born a dragon you might have made a good royal consort.”

 

Unbidden, unwanted the memories assaulted her. Consort.

 

She didn't pause to think it through. She didn't wait for Farin to follow her lead. She just attacked and took old fury our on the man in front of her, pressing her slowly weakening body for every last ounce of strength it possessed. Letting the old bitterness and unhealed wounds flare to life she let her rage fuel her movements and slowly began pressing Askerin back.

 

For a solid minute she had the upper hand and then he cut under her defenses and caught her wrist. With an almost casual flick the bone snapped and the sword fell free of her now useless grip. To her credit, she didn't utter more than a single, piercing scream before he spun her around to press her back to his chest, twisting her injured arm up painfully behind her back and lightly resting his clawed fingers against her throat.

 

For the first time since Soren had engaged the Dragon King she had a full view of the chaos that had ensued. Farin was fighting with Coran and Fayra against the two remaining guards and even with the help of three familiars they were having trouble against them. Coran had sustained a heavy wound to the head and blood was pouring into his right eye. Fayra and Farin had sustained enough wounds to turn their clothes a deep crimson.

 

“Cease,” Askerin thundered, making his guards and son falter and turn. Farin felt his mind freeze as he came face to face with Soren as his father's hostage. He felt rather than saw Fayra and Coran draw closer to cover his back and in some corner of his mind he began planning to rescue his royal with their help.

 

“Now that I have your undivided attention,” Askerin said, his hot breath feathering past Soren's ear. “I want to make this clear: I won't try to seal you again, not after you've already broken it once. Your royal has proven to be more spirited than those before her so I will let her live, but she will be returning with us to ensure you know your place. Try and follow and I'll rip-”

 

His words were cut short by a shriek of pain as he felt cold metal kiss his shoulder, easily sliding through the bone and flesh and missing the girl entirely. The blade twisted and his claw at her throat involuntarily jerked away.

 

Soren didn't need any prompting before she tore free of the Dragon King's weakened grasp, pushing back the pain that flared in protest to her sudden movements. She paused long enough to retrieve the sword with her left hand before retreating to Farin's side and turning to face the man.

 

Against the moon and shadows was stood the silhouette of a silver haired woman. Soren felt relief flare to life in her stomach at the sight of Sora wielding the blade that pierced Askerin's shoulder. From rippling darkness Josaline took her place at Soren's side and waited for Sora to join them.

 

“Sora,” she breathed and the woman's eyes flicked to her.

 

The former Riagenkai yanked the sword free and whipped it down to her side, freeing it of most of its stains. Askerin grabbed at his shoulder and stumbled away from her, watching in disbelief as she strode past him to join the humans and his son. “As much as I would love to be the one to finish you it is a job for the next in line for the Dragon Throne,” she said, eyeing him disdainfully. “Princeling?”

 

“There is a proper time and place for everything,” Farin said quietly, but Soren could hear the weariness in his voice and knew he was in no shape to fight further. “Take your guards and go. If I choose to challenge you in the future I shall come, but not until then.”

 

As silently as they had come they prepared to depart. One guard saw to Askerin as the other gathered their two unconscious counterparts. The look in the Dragon King's eyes was murderous and Soren followed his gaze to the enchanter that still hung uncertainly back. With a clarity that surprised her she told him, “You'll stay in Regenku, enchanter. I owe you that much.”

 

All eyes turned to her for an instant before Farin quietly said, “Dragons outside the royal family are…required…to make a blood seal to ensure loyalty to the line and that there are no disputes over the throne. I highly doubt that Askerin would release him on account that you wish the dragon to stay.”

 

Her gaze was steady. “You said the royal family,” she reminded him pointedly.

 

Farin frowned. “Yes, but-”

 

“Order him to stay and then you need to get that shoulder looked at,” she instructed him.

 

Though a rather dubious look crossed his features he turned his head to the enchanter and said, “As Prince and only heir to the Dragon Throne I am invoking the rights and privileges of my position. I order you to leave my father's service and stay in this kingdom until such a time that I or my queen see fit to release you.” There was a brief flare of light as the invocation took hold and the blood seal forced the command to be obeyed.

 

The color drained from Askerin's already blotchy face as he snarled wordlessly before saying, “None of you will obey a single command given by Farin.” He knew it was too late to counteract the command already given, but that didn't stop him from reversing any damage that the younger dragon could do with that kind of power open to his use.

 

The enchanter kept his distance, but moved closer to the mix of humans and dragons. For the moment he was safe in the knowledge that he was beyond Askerin's reach, protected by the very blood he had given in his oath to forever serve the royal Dragon line. The Dragon King would be unable to retaliate against his perceived betrayals so long as his son saw fit to keep him as a servant. His attention shifted to the Heir as he began to speak with a quiet inflection that could make a rampaging boar pause.

 

“Leave my kingdom and never show your face again,” Farin said softly, his voice holding a deadly promise. “And when you go be sure to take that half dead whore of a dragon you call a daughter with you. I'll not tolerate her presence or your interference a moment longer.”

 

Askerin made no indication that he had heard his son. Instead, he allowed his remaining guard to tend his shoulder and when the bleeding was staunched he left without another word. His guards swept along behind him, supporting their unconscious fellows and silently pondering their own fates for their “failure.”

 

Farin cast a sidelong glance at his queen's pale, ashen face. “I am glad to see you so well, majesty,” he said. “I hope that the next time I wake, you will perhaps be gracious enough to explain tire females presence here.” Then the fatigue, exhaustion, and toll of his wounds finally pushed past the boundaries he had so carefully erected to keep them at bay and crashed down on him. He surrendered to the blissful darkness, secure in the knowledge that his queen and country were safe.