"What's happenin' to me?"
Blaise screamed in pain as his spine curved and contorted, transforming into spikes that tore out of his back, soaking him in his own blood. With each heavy breath, smoke poured out of his nostrils, and his body started to grow, tearing apart what was left of his skin like wet paper.
"I think I've seen enough," Soren said, raising his sword over his head. As he swung down at Blaise, an arrow struck his hand. He shouted in pain, clutching the injury as his weapon clattered to the ground.
What was that?
Blaise's eyes searched for the shooter, and he felt more in control of his body. The pain dulled as his body changed back to normal, his tan skin covering the scales. He just sat there on his hands and knees. What had just happened?
One of the other Enforcers began muttering a spell from her book, but another arrow came flying from over a rooftop, knocking the tome from her hands. Before she could retrieve it, she was tackled to the ground by a large man.
He wore an intricately decorated metal mask that covered the top half of his face, his glowing eyes illuminating the silver carvings. A Dragon? Others rushed in, placing themselves between the Enforcers and their victims. They were all dressed similarly, with metal masks and red sleeveless shirts that bore a symbol resembling a Dragon on the back.
Rebels?
"You will not lay another hand on anyone else tonight," the man who had tackled the mage said. He smoothed the front of his shirt as he stepped calmly between Soren and Blaise.
"Stand aside!" Soren stepped forward, puffing out his chest. "This doesn't concern you."
"Of course it does," another person in the group said. Blaise noticed that her shirt was similar to the others, only hers was blue. What kind of group were they? "We protect all innocent Humans and Dragons."
"You know the laws of King Agni," another Enforcer stated, aiming an arrow at the man protecting Blaise. "You'll be punished for crimes against the kingdom."
"Crimes against the kingdom?" The entire group of rebels laughed. "The only crime here is Agni's war against Draconia."
"Are you all right?" a female rebel asked as she knelt beside Blaise, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry, we'll help you."
They're wasting time. I could have ended this twenty minutes ago.
"I don't need your help," Blaise growled. He slapped the woman's hand away and rushed at Soren.
"Blaise, don't!" Daemon cried.
He didn't care about his own safety. He wanted to hurt the people who hurt him... the ones who had killed his brothers and attacked Daemon. He dodged the hands of the rebels who tried to stop him, and tackled Soren to the ground.
He jumped on top of the Enforcer, throwing his fists recklessly. They connected with the man's jaw once or twice before he took Blaise by the throat and tossed him aside.
"I've had enough of this," Soren said, using his sword like a crutch to help himself to his feet. He rubbed his jaw where Blaise had struck him, a dark look in his eyes. "Dragon Prince or not, I'll kill you!"
Can you believe this guy? I should just swallow him whole—let him burn alive in my belly.
Blaise rubbed his aching forehead. The thoughts in his head were too loud... too dark and too demanding, and they didn't belong to him. Was he going mad?
Soren swung his sword, intending to bring it down on Blaise. Before he could, one of the rebels cast himself between them, shielding Blaise from harm by blocking the Enforcer's sword with the metal bracer on his forearm. As if he'd anticipated the block, Soren pulled out a dagger with his free hand, the purple blade glistening in the light from the burning buildings.
A gust of wind threw both Blaise and his protector out of harm's way, sending them tumbling to the ground at the feet of the other rebels. Blaise scrambled to his feet just in time to see Soren plunge his weapon into Daemon's chest.
"Daemon!"
Blaise's cry echoed through the slums, and everything erupted into chaos as Enforcers and rebels attacked each other relentlessly in the middle of the Industrial District of Cadmus.
Blaise was frozen in place, watching Daemon fall in slow motion. Soren kicked the caretaker away before turning his focus on the rebels.
Through the bursting of spells, clashing of swords, and tumbling of walls, nobody heard Blaise crying out for Daemon. He tried to get to him, doing his best to get through the Enforcers and rebels alike.
A shot of magic, dodged by an Enforcer, blasted against the side of a building, and the force of the explosion send Blaise tumbling through dirt and rubble. When he came to a stop, he lay there for a moment, dazed and confused before he was flooded with the pain. His arms were covered in bloody scrapes, as well as one side of his face.
It didn't matter. He just had to move. He needed to reach Daemon. So, he crawled until he got to him.
"Daemon, get up," Blaise begged. He could barely see through his own tears as he struggled to roll Daemon onto his back. The caretaker's arm hung limp at his side, and blood soaked the front of his shirt. "Please, get up. We gotta get outta here."
"Blaise," Daemon said, barely loud enough for Blaise to hear him. His breath came out in labored huffs, and the color was draining from his face quickly. "You should have run."
"I couldn't let ya fight 'em alone. C'mon, Da. You'll be a'right."
Daemon just laughed softly, closing his eyes.
"You're so reckless," he said, coughing up a bit of blood. "Who do you take after?"
"I take after you!" Blaise reached out and shook him. "C'mon, you gotta get up. We'll getcha to a hospital, 'kay? You'll be fine."
Daemon didn't speak anymore—he just patted Blaise's hand, giving him a forced smile. It reminded Blaise of the smile his own mother had given him the night she had died, and it made more tears well up in his eyes. How cruel could the Gods be, to constantly rip away everything he loved, without reason or mercy?
I know that feeling all too well...
Blaise felt a pang of sadness, followed by a vision of a regal woman with the same false smile, and a painful shriek echoed in his mind. It made his chest tight and his eyes burn...
"Please, get up," he begged again. "I wanna go home."
Blaise hissed in pain as rubble exploded from a nearby blast, hitting him in the face with sharp bits of wood and stone. He couldn't tell who was winning the fight, but he didn't care—he just wanted to get out of there and go home with Daemon.
"C'ome on, kid," one of the rebels said, trying to pull Blaise away from Daemon. "We have to go. Now."
"Don't touch me!" He yanked away from the man with scowl. "I ain't leavin' him!"
"We're going to take care of your da. Don't worry."
"No!" Blaise struggled violently, forgetting his pain as the man pulled him off the ground and passed him off to another rebel. The man dragging him away from Daemon. "Get off o' me! I wanna stay with him! Lemme go!"
"C'mon, kid, enough," the rebel said, and Blaise could hear his accent... another man from Oorlog, like him. "We're leavin'. We're outnumbered and we gotta get the hell outta here while we can."
"No! Let go!"
The rebel tightened his grip, pulling Blaise away. The Enforcers were closing in on them, but Blaise only cared about staying with Daemon. He twisted and thrashed, trying his hardest to get away.
The rebel released Blaise, but only for a moment. With one sweeping motion of his hand, a wall of fire erupted between them and the Enforcers before he grabbed him again.
"Get the hell off me!" Blaise bit down hard on the man's arm.
He growled in pain, losing his grip on Blaise as he rubbed the wound. Blaise tried to scramble back to Daemon, but he was struck hard in the head by some unseen force.
Dazed, Blaise froze, his gaze fixed on the rebels taking Daemon away. Before he even knew he was falling, he hit the ground, bits of rubble digging into his already cut up, bloodied skin. He closed his eyes against the brightness of the flames around him, his head spinning while tears ran down his face.
He couldn't lose Daemon. Without him, there was nothing left for him. He opened his eyes again, but darkness crept into the edges of his vision, and his heartbeat thrummed loudly in his ears, drowning out the sounds of the chaos around him.
Don't worry, kid. You've still got me.
***
"How many times do I have to tell you, Theron? We don't use violence against the victims!"
"Sorry, Ken, but I ain't gonna drag no screamin' kid through Cadmus to get ev'ry damn Enforcer on our trail. It's easier this way, a'right?"
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
"I don't care what's easier! We're supposed to protect them, not attack them. Save your rage for Agni."
"Yeah? Well, when we gonna get him, man? It's been damn near five years now, and we ain't one step closer to takin' down that piece of trash!"
"It's going to take time. Do you think we could have taken Agni down when there were only six of us? Against an army of Enforcers? We were just kids, Theron. We're still practically kids, and we're still vastly outnumbered."
"Whatever, man. I'm tired o' waitin' 'round for this shit."
Blaise groaned, his sleep disrupted by loud voices. As the cart went over a bump, he smacked his head against the side. He rolled onto his back, clutching his temple.
He tried hard to remember what had happened, but it was difficult. It had all happened so fast. How did he escape? He slowly recalled the Enforcers, and the rebels stepping in. Then, Daemon...
"Daemon!"
Blaise shot up on the bench where he lay, and one of the rebels forced him back down, hushing him softly.
"Relax, kid," the other rebel told him, leaning back with his hands behind his head. "Soon, we're gonna be back in Draconia. Then ya can scream all ya want, behind the castle walls."
He wore the same uniform as the others, although his seemed more worn out than most, and it had been stitched up in a few places. His tan skin and thick accent were unmistakable to Blaise—he was the rebel from the night before, but his blue eyes were glowing. He may have lived in Oorlog, perhaps even been born there, but this man was definitely Draconian.
"Why Draconia?" Blaise rubbed his eyes, trying to wake himself up. He was terribly groggy, and his head throbbed with pain. "Ain't that the abandoned Dragons' kingdom?"
I can't believe anyone still lives in Draconia after all these years. So, they really went back... Who are these guys?
"It's become our refuge," the other rebel said. He seemed to be the one in charge.
He pressed his hand to Blaise's forehead, and Blaise recoiled. After what he'd been subjected to, even just the thought of anyone else's hands on him made his skin crawl.
"I'm not going to hurt you," the man said, reaching out again, and Blaise resisted the urge to pull away. The rebel's hands were cool and soothing against the pain. "Don't worry about your da, either. Our medics are going to take good care of him."
"What about the orphanage? Who's gonna take care o' them?"
"Ain't nobody there, kid," the Oorlogan man said with a shrug. "We checked it out, top to bottom. No Dragons, no Humans, no nothin'. Looked like there ain't been no one livin' there in a long time."
"That can't be right..." Blaise sat up slowly, groaning in pain. "The rest o' the orphans... Ain't a bunch o' kids gonna jus' disappear."
"Dunno, kid. Like I said, ain't nobody there."
"Forgive Theron." The rebel who was attending to Blaise's wounds glared at his partner. "He has no manners. But, he's telling the truth. We checked Cadmus Orphanage—nothing there but dust."
"But—"
"Look..." Theron leaned forward, resting his arms on his legs with a sigh. "They ain't there no more, 'kay? Don't be worryin' 'bout nothin' ya can't do nothin' about."
"That's my family you're talkin' about!"
"Enough!" The other man's powerful voice rattled the inside of the cart, and both Blaise and Theron fell silent.
"Sorry, Kenric," Theron said quietly, avoiding his partner's gaze. "I just wanna get home... antsy, I guess."
"Well, it's going to be a while." Kenric sat back with a sigh as he closed his eyes and crossed his arms. "Just enjoy the scenery or something."
Blaise sighed and pressed his forehead against the cool window, glancing outside, and his eyes widened. He had very few memories of anywhere but the dirty brick walls and old cobblestone roads of Cadmus. Outside, he saw everything but that.
Bright green grass stretched out as far as he could see, fading into the far-off mountains. There were trees and lakes, and animals wandering freely across the landscape, including birds he'd never seen in Cadmus. The open space and bright colors put Blaise at ease.
You really need to get out more, kid.
***
"A'right..." Theron yawned, stretching his arms over his head. They'd been riding in silence for a couple of hours. "We gonna be passin' into Draconia real soon. When we get into the castle, we'll getcha to the infirmary and fix you up."
"I don't need fixin' up. I just wanna see Daemon," Blaise said, shooting a glare at Theron. "He's been carin' for me since I was a little kid. He's practically my da."
"Whatever." Theron yawned again, scratching his shoulder, which was covered with a tattoo.
It was a person, surrounded by an aura in the shape of a Dragon. Blaise thought he'd seen it somewhere before. Maybe he'd met Theron before, when he lived in Oorlog. No, that couldn't be right, could it? Neither of them would have been old enough for tattoos. Perhaps it wasn't even his memory. He seemed to be recalling many things that didn't belong to him.
"What the hell ya starin' at, kid?" Theron asked, annoyance in his voice. It snapped Blaise out of his own thoughts.
"You tattoo," he said, pointing at Theron's shoulder. "What is it?"
"It's the symbol o' peace 'tween the two kingdoms, ya know? Back when Queen Maeve and King Anguis ruled Draconia and Cadmus together... We're gonna have peace like that again someday. That's why we do what we gotta do. For a Dragon, ya don't know much 'bout Draconian culture."
"I ain't no Dragon," Blaise said with a scowl, and Theron raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"Really? That ain't what I seen last night."
Blaise opened his mouth to argue, but something held him back, and his voice caught in his throat. He felt as though he wasn't in control of his own body, and the more he tried to fight it, the more it made his muscles ache.
Don't tell them anything. You don't know who you can trust yet.
"What do you do?" Blaise asked when he finally managed to get some words out of his mouth.
Theron let out a sigh, rolling his eyes, but Kenric punched him in the shoulder. He shot Theron a look of warning before turning his attention to Blaise.
"We run an organization called the Occultus Draconem," Kenric explained. "We're working to fight back against King Agni and the Enforcers. Trying to, at least. We're going to get justice for the murders of King Anguis and Queen Maeve, and bring the two kingdoms back together."
"I thought I heard somethin' 'bout Dragons bein' the ones who killed Anguis," Blaise said, and a dark look fell over Kenric's face.
"It's a lie," he said, scowling. "The Draconians would never do such a thing, especially not under Queen Maeve. Besides that, it was all too sudden, to have Anguis die and have the entirety of Draconia destroyed, before half the surrounding kingdoms even knew what had happened. Everything works too conveniently in Agni's favor. It had to have been planned. Agni wanted his brother and the Dragons out of the way. All he cares about is dominion over everything, and we have to stop him."
"Yeah, 'cept we ain't got no heir to the Draconian throne," Theron said, leaning back with his arms behind his head. "Only hole in that master plan o' yours, Ken."
"The Dragon Prince is alive, Theron! He didn't die in the castle. I intend to find him, even if I have to scour every corner of every kingdom from Senin to Oorlog."
"You ain't never told us ya name, kid," Theron noted, his gaze fixed on Blaise. "Well, we ain't asked you, neither."
"Oh... Blaise Bressal," he said with a shrug. It wasn't like his name meant anything to anyone. He was nobody... just a lonely orphan with nowhere to go.
"Well, Blaise..." Kenric reached out to shake his hand as the carriage came to a halt. "I'm Kenric Helmuth, and my temperamental sidekick there is Theron. Judging by your accent, I think it's safe to say that you're also from Oorlog, right?"
"I ain't no sidekick!" Theron shook his head with disdain and threw the carriage door open. "Let's get the kid to the infirmary before I put you there."
Blaise's eyes went wide, looking up at Castle Draconia. It was massive, and outside the walls, there was a bustling city, built around the ruins of the old kingdom. There were all sorts of makeshift homes, repaired buildings, shopping stalls, and other small structures filling the spaces in between the old broken down buildings.
As for the castle itself, the architecture was impressive, but Blaise wondered about its size. There were some part that looked more massive than others, but weren't Dragons enormous creatures? The castle was certainly huge, but not enough for an entire kingdom of Dragons.
The castle wasn't built for Dragons—it was a place for Humans and Dragons to come together in peace. The sky is our true kingdom.
Trying to ignore the strange thoughts in his head, and hoping to simply will away the migraine they caused, Blaise shook his head and quickened his pace to keep up with Theron and Kenric as they entered the castle. While they walked, he couldn't help but stare in awe at the architecture.
On one side of the entrance hall, there were tall, intricate statues of Dragons. Parallel to them were Humans.
They're previous kings and queen that held the peace between Cadmus and Draconia for centuries. Anguis and Maeve were the last.
The vivid color and details of the statues were amazing to Blaise, as if they would come to life at any moment. A small gasp escaped his lips when his gaze fell on the farthest end of the hall, where two staircases curved up to meet at the center, where a corridor led deeper into the castle. There were two statues, larger than the rest, holding up the stairs.
That's Anguis and Maeve. It used to be such a beautiful symbol of peace, and Agni ruined everything.
A sharp pain struck Blaise between his eyes, and memories flashed through his mind. Memories of death and destruction all around him, bodies strewn across the floors and on the stairs. Thoughts of the stench of death and smoke made his nostrils burn and his stomach ache, and he quickly shook his head to rid himself of the thoughts.
He froze below the statue of Queen Maeve. It was a perfect replica of a memory in his head... a memory that didn't belong to him, and the emotion in her red eyes struck him hard. He held back a sob, forced to look away from her.
"Beautiful, isn't she?" Kenric stopped beside Blaise, gazing up at the statue. "I met her when I was younger. Surprisingly, she was beautiful as both Dragon and Human."
Surprisingly?
"Any reason why she wouldn't be?" Blaise questioned.
"Well..." Kenric sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Our Human forms mirror our Draconian souls. We don't get to pick how we look in Human form. A Dragon with an ugly soul will be an ugly Human. There are many things in this world that can corrupt people. Power, greed, envy... it twists them into monsters. Maeve never let her power go to her head, though. She would have been beautiful as anything, even a leech."
"I dunno why you let them corrupt ones in here, Ken," Theron interrupted. "It's damn disturbin' when ya meet guys with scales for skin or Humans walkin' 'round with wings comin' outta their backs."
"We don't turn anyone away. We're trying to bring everyone back together, not cause more trouble for people."
Blaise followed them up the staircase, still gazing at the wonderful castle. He ran his fingers gingerly along the wall as they walked. Every chip and crack in the dark stone had been filled in with gold, shimmering in the light from torches that lined the halls.
Blaise wondered why the Dragons stayed in their Human forms. Why would they want to live like that, crammed inside Castle Draconia?
Every Dragon wants to be free to roam the sky like we used to. The sky calls to us. But, the Enforcers have powerful spells in place to keep us grounded. Right now, being Human means surviving.
"What the hell?" Blaise rubbing his aching forehead. "Who are you? Why you keep talkin' to me?"
"Did you say something?" Kenric asked, pausing for a moment to look back at Blaise.
"Nah," he lied. He must look crazy, talking to himself in the middle of the corridor. "Just thinkin' out loud."
Smooth, kid.
"Answer me," Blaise hissed, hanging back from Kenric and Theron, and speaking softly so they couldn't hear him. "Who are you and what are you doin' in my head? You some kind o' demon?"
My name is Zane Bedalia, the Dragon Prince, and heir to the Draconian throne. And you, Blaise Bressal, are going to help me take back my kingdom.