Talent’s POV
Talent hadn’t seen the ant since their trip to the gallery, and he hadn’t seen the ant around Mila either. That was a good sign, he thought, and he hoped that meant that Dominant was done with her. Talent had been spending more time with Mila and the more he spent with her, the more he realized that he needed her.
He wished that it could be her accompanying him to Stellanorte, but his father must still be angry with him. Sending him with the ant was a cruel punishment, it just didn’t make sense. If he didn’t plan on making the boy an heir, it made no sense to send him. He knew nothing so what could he possibly add to a peace delegation?
He was sitting in his room, waiting for the servant to bring the food, and trying to think of a way to convince Mila that he was the one she should be with. He needed her to see that he was the better man, and he had to prove it to her. Maybe if he succeeded in this negotiation, maybe then she would see that he was capable.
When the servant came, she placed his food in front of him and said, “I have a message from your father, should I share it now or after you finish?”
“Why can’t he just send me a text?” Talent rolled his eyes.
”I…I don’t know the answer to that sir.”
“Well, go on and give me the message.”
She nodded. “He says that you’re to accompany Dominant into the city today. He wants you to assist him in selecting a wardrobe for your upcoming trip.”
Talent rolled his eyes. “Thats a job any one of a dozen servants could do.”
“He thought you would say that. He told me to tell you that this is the most important mission you’ve ever had and will not leave any part of it to anyone besides the best person for the job. Also, I’m to remind you that Ango is already expecting you for a fitting today.”
Talent sighed. “Fine, when am I to leave?”
“As soon as you finish eating, and Dominant has already left so you will have to catch up with him.”
Talent groaned, “Tell my father I’ll help his pet ant, but I won’t be happy about it.” Pushing away his food, he got up from the table and walked to the door. He knew that Ango was the best tailor in Krell, and the only one who could make clothes good enough to satisfy his father.
Talent made his way through the city, his mind on the task ahead. It wouldn’t be easy, and he knew it. His father was a hard man to please, and he was always watching, always judging. He would have to be on his guard at all times, but he was used to that.
He could ensure that Dominant was dressed well, but he considered another option. What if he took this opportunity to make the boy look like a fool. He could have him wear the wrong thing to a formal meeting, and make him look like an idiot. That would certainly help him gain favor with his father, but it was too risky. His father would not be pleased if he embarrassed him.
As he arrived at Ango’s, he saw the ant was already inside. He walked in, and saw Dominant standing in front of a mirror, looking at the suit that Ango had just finished measuring. “This will—”
“Be good enough for a gala, but not the mission we have to accomplish. Style is good, but My father will want Dominant to look stylish and powerful. His outfit needs to make a statement and what we have here is a simple suit.” Talent pushed his way forward, taking control of the situation. He turned to Ango. “I’ll need something more daring.”
Ango raised an eyebrow. “I don’t—”
Talent waved his hand. “You have something, I’m sure. Something you’ve been dying to make. Show us.”
Ango nodded, and brought forth a sketchbook. He flipped through the pages until he found what he was looking for. “This is the one,” he said. “I call it The Prince of Darkness.”
Talent looked at the drawing and smiled. He liked what he saw. It was fitting for the occasion, but he wanted it for himself. Still, Talent knew what message the outfit would send and it would be difficult for him to present himself as a rational and fair man while wearing something like that. But he could make Dominant wear it. “Excellent. Make it and have it ready by morning.”
Ango nodded. “Of course.”
Talent turned to Dominant. “What do you think?”
“I think it’s a little…”
Talent waved his hand. “It’s perfect, you’ll look amazing.”
Dominant sighed. “Alright, but I don’t know how I’m supposed to wear this and still appear like a diplomat.”
“I think father has a different goal in mind for you. He wants you present there more to make a statement. He’s making clear to grandpa Akiru that he’s at a disadvantage.”
“Grandpa?” Dominant asked. “Your grandfather is the Lord of Stellanorte?”
Talent nodded, “Yes, and he’s a man with great ambition that needs to be tamed.” He glanced at the sketch. “You’ll help with that. This will let him know that father is a powerful enemy to have, but a generous ally.”
Dominant shook his head. “I’m not sure why he has to make such an elaborate display of power, couldn’t we just negotiate normally?”
Talent shook his head. “No, the Lord of Stellanorte is a stubborn man who won’t listen to reason. He will only respect strength. If we don’t show him that we have the power, he will not take us seriously. Especially considering what was done to Meyori, he won’t relent if he believes he can succeed.”
Dominant frowned. “Who is Meyori?”
“My mother.” Talent answered placidly, growing annoyed with the ants ignorance. “You haven’t forgotten her have you?”
Dominant’s eye brows arched and his eyes went a bit wide. His mouth opened, as if to ask further questions but after a moment of awkward silence he finally said, “Alright, I’ll wear it.”
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Ango seemed pleased to hear that. He pulled out a tape measure and placed several pins in his mouth. “Very good, now let’s get to work. Strip down.”
Dominant did as the tailor instructed, and Talent watched as the ant was measured and fitted. The suit was a black and gold, with a high collar and a cape that flowed behind him, but Angu used scrap fabrics for the measurements to get a feel for the fit before committing to expensive cloth.
Talent couldn’t help but notice how muscular Dominant was. His body was lean and toned, and his skin was smooth and unblemished. He had a flawless figure, not like any number he had ever encountered. On the surface his body looked perfect, but Talent saw deeper than that. He saw the internal fissures where mana bled from underdeveloped veins and scared Dominant’s flesh even as it worked to mend him.
The damage was most obvious in six places that each seemed to draw in mana like a crystal storing up energy. They swelled with power, waiting to burst and release it. He was basically a bomb waiting to blow up. Talent was glad he would be rid of the boy. He was a danger and he would only get in his way. He would be better off without him.
Ango worked quickly, measuring, pinning, and marking. When he finished, he stood back and looked at his work. “Excellent,” he said. “Now go change and I’ll have the suit ready in a few days.”
Talent nodded, and Dominant went to the changing room to put his clothes back on.
Turning to Ango, Talent said, “I’ll need something better than your original design as well. Something that suits a leader more than a prince.”
Ango nodded, then turned to his book. Flipping through it, he found a page near the end and pointed to it. “What do you think of this?” he asked.
Talent looked at the drawing, and his eyes widened. He liked what he saw. The suit was black and violet, with a high collar and a wyvern claw cufflinks. The fabric was a deep purple, with a black trim and it was all so sleek and elegant. It was perfect. “Yes, this is the one. Make it for me.”
Ango nodded, and began measuring Talent. When he finished, he went to the fabric room to begin his work.
Talent left the shop, feeling good about the day. He would be leaving soon, and he would be taking the ant with him. He was looking forward to getting away from the city, and he would remind his father of the difference between common things and a man who was born to lead.
Dominant emerged from the shop a moment after him, his eyes downcast and his brow furrowed. “Talent…” Dominant started to speak, but stopped, his mouth hanging open as if unsure of the words. He didn’t seem angry, but there was something in his expression that Talent couldn’t quite place. He seemed concerned.
“What is it?” Talent asked.
Dominant shook his head. “Well, I—”
“CRYSTAL’S LIGHT!”
“HOW CAN HE—NO, Plea—” The cry choked off with a wet crunch.
“HELP! SOMEBODY PLEASE HELP!”
The shouts and screams were coming from just up the road. Hoover crafts zoomed away from a building Talent recognized as a sex shop. It was the place where Ziva worked. Talent’s blood ran cold as he feared what might have happened.
Dominant raced past him, dashing into the chaos like a crazed loon.
Talent needed a closer look. He tried to fly, but he tried moving mana, his body felt like it was ripping itself in two. Mana bled from his veins as if he’d been stabbed by a leach crystal.
He stopped trying to cast, cursing and chasing Dominant on foot. Whatever was happening, it was more than Dominant could handle.
The boy was even faster than Talent remembered, vanishing in a fleeing crowd before he could take a step. Talent moved as quickly as he could without magic, but it was slow going. By the time he arrived at the scene, Dominant was already there.
The street had been torn up, and the sex shop was completely destroyed. The only thing left standing was a drake with slave markings on his arms and mana leach cuffs on his wrists, ankles and around his neck. His wings were bound tightly in chains, but fire fell from his jaw like drool and his claws dripped with fresh blood.
He shouldn’t have been able to use a breath attack, but it seemed like he could use magic normally while Talent still felt pain if he tried to cast. The slave must have used some sort of artifact or maybe there was a flaw in his cuffs. Either way, he was dangerous.
Talent didn’t see any bodies, but blood and gore was everywhere. He needed back up. He needed Sandra, or Daren, or both. He reached into his pocket and grabbed his phone. It wouldn’t turn on.
The slave drake turned toward him, and Talent knew he had to run. He had to get away from here, and fast.
“What are you doing? You can’t just kill everyone!” Dominant shouted at the drake.
The Drake turned, a snarl in his voice as he spat at Dominant. “Filthy little rats! You bind me, rob me of my freedom, my magic, my home! You beat and brand me, push me down and call me less than, but now, now that the balance has turned you ask for mercy?”
“Why are you attacking innocent people?” Dominant demanded. “They’ve done nothing to you.”
The Drake roared with laughter, “Innocent? No one in this city is innocent. They all stand by and do nothing while the ones they fear trample on the rights and dignity of those weaker. They are guilty of cowardice.” Bright orange flames built behind his teeth as the beast roared, “You all deserve death.”
Dominant stepped forward, his hands clenched into fists. “I’m not going to let you kill anyone else. You’ve caused enough destruction.”
The drake laughed again, then breathed fire at the ant, but Dominant held his ground. He moved fast, dodging the flame and striking the drake with a powerful kick that sent the drake flying into the side of the shop.
Dominant didn’t let up, he pressed his attack, moving in to strike again and again. The drake’s scales were tough, but he was faster and more agile than the beast. He landed a series of blows that left the Drake stunned and reeling. The Drakes scales were cracked and bleeding, something no ordinary punch could manage. He was moving faster, and with more force than was possible, even for talent.
Dominant was using mana to power his strikes, and Talent had no idea how he was doing it.
He didn’t have time to think about it, because the Drake recovered, and struck back. A pillar of flame engulfed Dominant, billowing right towards Talent. Talent dove out of the way, wishing he could fly away, or cast a barrier, or even call for help, but all he could do was search for cover.
Nothing looked safe. A hover craft would crumble like paper under a drake’s strength. The remaining walls of the buildings were already crumbling, and flames licked at them eager for more fuel to burn. Dominant and the drake were moving so quickly he was afraid he would be struck by debris or a stray fist.
He found an alcove in the wall of a shop and hunkered down. He didn’t know how Dominant was still standing. His clothes were singed, and his skin was covered in burns. His hair was smoldering, and his face swollen and bruised. The boy should have been dead several times over, but the flow of mana through his body seemed to have been at least somewhat corrected.
Lightning crackled on Dominant’s fist, then struck out in three directions at once’s cutting off any escape for the flightless drake. Dominant charged forward, his body crackling with energy. The drake tried to dodge, but Dominant was too fast, and too strong. He slammed his fist into the drakes face, sending him flying into the wall. With a triumphant roar, Dominant leapt into the air, summoning balls of fire all around him as he rose higher.
The flames burned like a thousand suns, and the heat was unbearable, but he didn’t stop, he didn’t slow down. He came crashing down on the drake with an explosion of flame that shook the ground and sent shockwaves of force through the air. The drake was pressed into the ground, and the building behind him collapsed. Dominant stood atop the rubble, his fists clenched, his chest heaving.
He was alive, but his skin was blistered and his eyes were crimson red. He looked ready to pounce on anything that moved and his black aura sent chills down Talent’s spine.
Distant screams caught both of their attention as Talent realized this was not an isolated incident. This was a coordinated attack and if they didn’t get help soon, the entire city could fall. “We need to get to the lord,” he said, his voice shaking.
The ant didn’t seem to hear him, his gaze fixed on the chaos unfolding in the distance. Dominant jumped down from the pile running on his hands and feet like some kind of beast and moving faster still. He vanished from sight in an instant, paying Talent no mind as he raced towards the sounds of battle.
Talent shivered, his nerves still not quite recovered. He needed to get home quickly, but he was in the heart of the city and he could hear slaves rampaging all around him. “Please, Sandra…come find me,” he whispered.