Chapter Text
Three little boys poked their heads out of a door, watching the sandy-colored drake stretch out on the sun-warmed ground of the courtyard. The oldest, with blond hair and blue eyes, held a finger over his lips, creeping out of the doorway first and beckoning his brothers. The youngest, with dark brown hair and forest green eyes, followed with a grin. The middle child, with black hair and icy blue eyes, rolled his eyes at his brothers’ antics before following them.
They got very close to the drake, and the oldest looked ready to pounce on the creature.
Don’t even think about it, the drake rumbled before either brother could move, lifting his head and turning to look at them. The drake’s yellow eyes twinkled with amusem*nt.
“I told you it wouldn’t work,” the black-haired boy sneered, crossing his arms.
The blonde let out a huff, then proceeded to climb onto the drake’s back. “How’d you know it was us, Crash?”
I’ve been around your family for generations. I know everything, the drake said plainly, shifting until he could fully face the younger two of the brothers. His true name was Chrysantheus, but it was so complicated for small children to pronounce, so he took the nickname with no complaint. Now, what is it you want?
The youngest sat down with a wide grin. “Story?”, he asked, his green eyes bright with hope.
The middle boy slowly sat down next to his younger brother. “We wanna know about the Hidden World. We heard father talking about it. It's where all of the dragons and other creatures went, right?”
The Drake stared at them, then shook his head with a chuckle. You boys and your curiosity. Alright. Garroth, go sit with your brothers and I’ll tell you. Just know I can’t tell you everything. I’ve never been there myself, after all.
The oldest, Garroth, scrambled off of Chrysantheus’s back and sat next to his brothers, wriggling with excitement.
The sandy-colored drake sat up, stretching and clearing his throat. Now, most legends say that draconic beings crawled out of the sea from nothing, but that’s nonsense. Everything comes from something, after all. Draconis Cordis, or ‘The Hidden World’ as humans call it is where all of draconic kind came from. Far from the regions you will learn about, at the edge of the world, there’s said to be an extinct volcano, which will likely be cenote-like by now. And if you’re able to go down into the volcano, you’ll find a place full of wonder. Crystals and plants glow in the darkness. Deep pools of water filled with any fish and other creatures you can imagine. He paused, seeing the middle child raise his hand. Yes, Zane?
“How can the plants and crystals glow?”, Zane asked, tilting his head slightly. “And how would you even find the edge of the world?”
Good questions. The plants and crystals grow because of how they developed, and it allows those with terrible night vision or fading vision to see better, Chrysantheus explained. As for finding the edge of the world, I’m entirely not sure. My old friends didn’t give many details when they made the journey before following their companions on their separate ways. The drake heaved a big sigh. It had been so long since he’d seen them. Viola never left the center of the Enchanted Forest, forever waiting for her companion in slumber.
All three brothers seemed captivated by his words, especially the youngest, Vlad. The lad loved to explore, and the idea of exploring a place before anybody else only made him want to find it more.
Zane’s eyes brightened with interest. “So maybe if we asked them we could find it?”
Garroth gasped, grabbing Zane by his shoulders and beginning to shake his younger brother. “We could bring back all of the dragons! And the drakes, and the wyverns, and the-”
Chrysantheus reached out with his paw, pushing Garroth away from Zane as gently as he could. Stop shaking your brother, he huffed. And now isn’t the right time to bring them back. Not with how things are going. They need to return in peace.
Zane scooted away from Garroth, then looked up at the drake. “So if there’s peace, they can come back? We could see them all? The dragons, the wyverns?”
Chrysantheus let out an amused rumble at his curiosity, but before he could answer, the door slammed open and all four heads looked to see an unhappy blond man.
“Really, beast? You’re filling their heads with nonsense again?”, the man growled.
The drake let out a low growl of his own, moving to stand in front of the boys. “They heard you mention it and asked me about it,” he gruffly explained. “Younglings will be curious. You said you wanted intelligent children, right? How will they become intelligent if you keep information from them?” Chrysantheus sneered, raising his head. “Or do you want them that way so you can have little puppets who you can still control after you retire? Is that it, Lord Garte?”
Garte stared the drake in the eyes, gritting his teeth and clenching his fists. “If you weren’t immortal, I’d slaughter you and wear your scales as armor.” And with that, he turned and left.
Chrysantheus let out an angry snort, then turned back to the boys, who were staring up at him. Whichever of you become lord, I hope you lead O’Khasis better than your pathetic father, he grumbled. Now is there anything else you want to know about the ancestral home of all draconic beings?
All three shook their heads, Garroth and Vlad seeming shaken up by the interaction Chrysantheus had with their father. Zane had a gleam in his eye, one that Chrysantheus didn’t particularly like.
Pushing the feeling back, he began to nudge the boys along. Go on and play. You’re young, and should enjoy your youth while you can. It won’t last forever, boys.
As the boys ran down the hall, Garroth proposing a new game to play, the drake let out a heavy sigh. If he wasn’t immortal, he was sure those three would be the death of him. He could only hope they grew to become better men than Garte, even the one that wasn’t the lord’s offspring by blood.
Chrysantheus padded back to his spot in the courtyard, slowly laying back down and closing his eyes. He could only hope.
Vlad scrambled through the forest, frantically glancing behind him. He had to get away. He couldn’t get caught.
“Get him!”
Flashes of blue. Pink. Red. White.
“No,” Vlad gasped. His eyes darted around. He made a sharp turn.
Crashes sounded behind him. Voices cursing. They were close.
He refused to look back. He’d see how close they were.
His heart was pounding. His blood roared in his ears.
A glimpse of grey. A familiar grey.
The gates. Home. He was almost home. Almost back to mom.
Someone rammed into Vlad’s side. They covered his mouth. Something bitter was forced into his mouth.
He kicked them off, and he bolted. He screamed. His spotted guards. They ran to him.
Fiery pain flared in his gut.
Vlad’s knees gave out. He fell.
The pain flooded through his body.
His feet felt as heavy as stones. His vision darkened.
The feeling was fading.
No!
He felt foam in his mouth. He couldn’t breathe!
He cried out, reaching towards the guards.
A new voice sounded. Distant. Faded.
He spotted a blue eye. It glittered malevolently as it watched.
No… how could he?
The guard’s voices were so faint. He couldn’t hear them.
The pain started to die.
Mom, I’m so sorry…
Everything went dark.
“You poor boy,” a new voice uttered, deep and rich.
Another voice joined in, saddened in its agreement. “Another victim of Esmund’s bloodline.”
Vlad opened his eyes. Everything felt heavy. It was still dark, and blurry. He tried to get up. Where was his mom? His brother?
“Calm yourself, young one.” The first voice sounded closer, and Vlad felt a gentle hand ruffle his hair. “You’re safe here. They can’t hurt you anymore.”
“W… where?”, Vlad croaked, squinting. His vision cleared slightly.
He saw a man with black hair. There was another man, a dirty blonde, behind the first man.
“The in-between,” the dirty blonde-haired man said, stepping closer. “Ordinarily you would pass on to the beyond…”
The black-haired man smiled at Vlad. “I brought you here, wanted to offer you something.”
Vlad frowned, wracking his slow-moving brain. “Letum?”
Both men began to laugh.
“No, child. Neither of us is the god of death. We do… let us say, work in similar circles.”
Before Vlad could ask what either of them meant, the black-haired man extended a hand towards him.
“We know what it’s like,” the man started soothingly. “To be stabbed in the back by the one you once called brother… to die terrified, and in so much pain.”
The dirty blonde moved closer. “To die knowing you never did him wrong, but he still did it.” This man’s eyes were a dark amber, and they glimmered with understanding.
Vlad cried out softly, trying to speak. His vision blurred again.
“We can help you. We can save you from death, give you another chance.”
Vlad was so sure his heart leaped, despite the lack of a heartbeat.
The first man moved his extended hand closer. “You just need to help us with something, and we can help you. Can you do that?”
These men were so nice. Why wouldn’t he help them?
Vlad grabbed the black-haired man’s hand.
Both men smiled.
It went dark again. Then it got warm. Really warm. Hot even.
“Welcome home, Vlad.” It was the voice of the dirty blonde.
Vlad opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was red.
“Welcome to the nether, young Shadow Knight.”
Suddenly, Vlad felt as if he made a terrible mistake. One he couldn’t take back.
Oh, mom. What did I do?
Zane read through another book, growling with frustration before tossing it to a wall. Another useless book with nothing in it! Nothing of Irene! Nothing of Draconis Cordis!
Red crept into the edges of his vision. His fists clenched tightly.
There was NOTHING!
“Sire?”
Zane turned, immediately unsheathing his sword and going to strike.
Janus yelped, leaping back with a wide blue eye. “Woah! Hold on!”
The Jury of Nine member quickly summoned his sword, blocking the strike. “Zane! It’s me!”
Zane frowned, taking a step back. The red faded. “Janus.” He dropped the sword, then he pulled the other man close. “Forgive me, my knight.”
Janus chuckled softly, patting him on the shoulder. “I’m guessing the curse started acting up again?” The white-haired man pulled back slightly, a small frown appearing on his face. “It’s been acting up more than usual.”
The curse. That damned curse that plagues his family for generations.
Zane turned away with a soft growl, running a hand through his hair. Father wouldn’t tell him how exactly they got it, or even why.
Father’s words? ‘We do not question the acts of the gods… no matter how unnecessarily cruel they are.’
Bullsh*t. He’d been handling it for so long. It brought him great strength, and that was the only benefit.
“What good is the strength of ten men, when you’re so enraged you can’t control it?”, Zane hissed softly. “Nothing. Damn the ones who did this to us.”
Thunder roared outside, as it did when anyone insulted the gods. That was the only time they broke their silence. They didn’t even answer the prayers of the faithful anymore. They were as silent as stars, until someone said something they didn’t like.
Janus scoffed, shaking his head as he followed Zane. “Honestly, why do they even bother with that? It doesn’t exactly word anymore.” The man set his hand on Zane’s shoulder once he caught up, cracking a smile. “All bark, no bite. Unlike us.”
Zane grunted in acknowledgment, staring down at the streets below. Years had gone by since the time of the Gods, Monsters, and Divine Warriors. They were all now godless people. They were in a world of masterless cattle.
His father spoke of bringing back the monarchy fully, giving the sheep of the region of Ru’Aun a new leader to follow. Zane knew that they’d never follow the lord of O’Khasis willingly, especially not Garte Ro’Meave.
But perhaps, they’d follow a young and powerful god. Perchance, it would bring the gods out of hiding. And if the gods came out of hiding then Draconis, the great First Dragon, would reawaken. If the First Dragon reawakened, then Zane’s dream would come to life.
First things first, he needed the power to start his journey. And that meant finding what he sought.
Zane turned his head in the direction of his beloved Janus, the Silver Death. “Have the others found anything? Anything on the power of the Divine?”
Janus took a step back, adopting a more serious stance and tone. “Only the same information we received from those scholars on one of the outlier islands, and even then we already knew some of it. That some of the Divine Warriors’ powers came from their godly parents. The rest of their powers, we have no information on.”
“Tsk. So all we know is of some of the powers they were born with, and no information on the power surge they had one day?” Zane wrung his wrists, closing his eyes. “What is this world coming to?”
Janus huffed, “People like their information. So much that they’ll burn it to hide it from us. They gladly take it to their graves.”
Their graves… That was it!
Zane chuckled softly, “Gather the others, Janus. Gather everything you can about the Shadow Knights. Perhaps they hold the information we seek.” He began to walk back to his books, pulling out one with a black cover and a red symbol on the front. “And if they don’t perhaps they can still be useful…”
Garroth stared out into the night, anxiety making his gut churn. He’d gotten up to this point, packing a bag and prepping an escape plan, and now he wasn’t sure he could do it.
He knew there wasn’t much left for him here. He didn’t want to marry a stranger just so his father could mend his mistakes and gain a hold over Scaleswind. He didn’t want to stick around with his younger brother-turned-monster, especially after Vlad was murdered. And while it would break his mother’s heart to leave, he found it unbearable to stay. But why was he so hesitant to leave now?
Garroth closed his eyes, taking deep breaths as he began to mutter to himself. “Esmund, please guide me… I’m so conflicted…”
“Anyone would be in this position…”, a deep voice hummed.
Garroth opened his eyes and found the transparent, silvery form of his ancestor and the original curse holder. He and his brothers grew up hearing of Esmund’s great feats, his indomitable strength and spirit. And now, the former Divine Warrior just looked tired. He’d been looking that way for as long as Garroth could remember.
“Sire, I don’t know what to do. I feel cowardly for running away, but I fear my sanity will wane more and more by the day if I stay,” Garroth explained. “Father has become so utterly cruel, and allows Zane to do as he pleases, and my brother has even grown more cold-hearted than him. And now, because he cannot finish a war he started, he wishes me to marry a strange woman from a village I’ve never been to… is there anything to gain by staying in this prison?”
Esmund was silent, his dull gaze looking him over. “You’re afraid of more than that. You fear the responsibilities of becoming the next lord of O’Khasis, and all that will come with it,” the spirit observed.
Garroth flinched at his ancestor’s words. He’d refused to acknowledge that truth. It only sent him spiraling with images that he couldn’t get out of his mind. His chest would tighten, and he suddenly couldn’t breathe, which led to him nearly blacking out from the utter terror it brought.
“You cannot run from your responsibilities, or your emotions. They will catch up to you one way or another,” Esmund said, turning to look at O’Khasis. “Now, what important lessons did my faithful drake teach you when you were a boy?”
Garroth glanced at the ground, recalling every lesson that Chrysantheus had attempted to teach both him and Zane… and Vlad. “To make choices carefully, as there are ones you can’t take back… and when you make a choice, make it one that you won’t regret,” he recalled.
Esmund turned to him with a nod. “I will not tell you what choices you should make. I will only tell you to follow your teachings to the best of your ability. Make your choice, and ensure you won’t regret it.” The spirit turned away after that, fading away as he began to walk into the forest. “I hope you choose well…” Esmund’s whisper floated away on the breeze.
Garroth turned back to O’Khasis, staring at the walls he’d been living in for so long, and only returned to from the Guard Academy by his father’s orders. He was silent for a moment longer, considering all his options.
If he simply left, his father would send every guard and have Zane send the Jury of Nine out to search for him. If he stayed, he would be forever trapped on that throne and either die on it or be assassinated by Zane.
Just like Vlad was.
The blond-haired man shook his head. He didn’t need to let grief cloud his mind. Not now. After a few more moments of silent contemplation, Garroth nodded to himself. He made his choice, and hoped that he wouldn’t grow to regret it.
Come morning, Lady Ro’Meave’s wails could be heard by many. And she refused to be comforted by anyone. Not her husband, not the drake, and not her remaining son. She had lost another child, her firstborn, and one of the only good things left in her life. Nothing could heal that wound.
