Kenric jolted as he hit the floor, and found himself alone, surrounded by darkness. The air was heavy and hot, and the only sound was his own shallow breathing.

"What is this?" he questioned under his breath, his eyes searching around frantically. Even as a Dragon, with the ability to see in darkness, there was nothing to see, only more darkness. "Where am I?"

"Deep in the unconscious mind of Blaise Bressal," a powerful voice answered.

A tall, muscular man appeared before him. He was a few inches taller than Kenric, and gave off an air of power that he'd never felt before. His black hair and clothing practically vanished in the darkness that surrounded them, but his red eyes and pale skin stood out in sharp contrast. Kenric immediately dropped to his knees, bowing with his fist over his heart.

"Forgive me, Prince Zane," he said, trying to steady his shaking hands. "I was only trying to help. I... I didn't mean to intrude."

"You didn't intrude," Zane told him, and placed a strong hand on his shoulder. "I brought you here because I need your help."

"But... why? Blaise could be out of control right now. I can't help him if I'm stuck in his mind!"

"Calm yourself. No one is in any danger. Blaise is caught in your trance, and you are caught in mine. It was the only way to still his mind, you see, so we can, at the very least, attempt to repair it."

All around them, the darkness started to take shape, if Kenric could even call it that. In every direction, there was nothing but fire and ruin. Piles of broken stone and shattered glass covered the ground, and above them was black smoke the reeked of death. Kenric pulled the collar of his shirt up over his nose to try to mask the stench.

"This is Blaise's mind? If you and I are here, what about him?"

With a solemn expression, Zane pointed behind Kenric.

Kenric turned around, and he gasped. He had to close his eyes and take slow, deep breaths to compose himself before he looked again.

Blaise was on his knees, his head hung down and arms outstretched, held in place with thick, red-hot chains that twisted around his arms and burned into his flesh. And that wasn't even the most disturbing part of it.

The wound that ran the length of Blaise's torso was wide open, his ribs pulled apart, exposing his insides. But he wasn't whole. His stomach and heart were gone—there was only empty space where they should have been, while his blood spilled out onto the ground.

"Why is he—" Kenric stopped and cleared his throat, trying to speak louder than the whisper that had just come out, and willed himself not to gag at the sight. "Why is he in chains?"

"That, unfortunately, is your doing."

"Mine?" How could that be? He wasn't the one living inside Blaise, messing with his thoughts and emotions, causing him pain. It wasn't his blood that poisoned Blaise. What could he possibly have to do with the chains that held Blaise?

"You don't know much about your own power, do you?" Zane sighed and shook his head, crossing his arms. "Take a good look and remember this. This is what happens to a person's psyche when you use your magic to control them. Since Blaise is stuck in your trance right now, he will remain in those chains until I release you, allowing you the ability to release him. I don't enjoy seeing him in this state either, you leaving your mark on him like this, but it's a small price to pay to fix the rest of his mind."

"Leaving my mark..." Kenric swallowed hard, glancing at Blaise's skin where the chains were burning it away. How could he not have known the damage he was doing? How could he not have seen how harmful his power really was?

"Generally, poking around in someone's mind or calming them doesn't do much, if any, damage at all. This is reserved to mind-control and trances on unwilling or unsuspecting victims. Even then, it usually doesn't cause such an extreme case of lasting damage. I'm sure you're already aware that Blaise is not a normal case, and your power has a vastly different effect on him."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" Kenric asked, looking down at his shaky hands. "There must be something I can do to ease his pain. Do my powers work here?"

Zane only shrugged, but Kenric was determined to help. He took a deep breath, concentrating his power, and nearly jumped for joy when he was able to form a layer of ice across the palm of his hand. Then, he approached Blaise.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Zane warned. "If he wakes up in that state, who knows what might happen?"

Kenric had made up his mind, though. He rubbed his hands together, conjuring thick layers of ice over his skin. Once he was satisfied with the result, he reached out to grab the chains that held Blaise.

"Don't!"

Kenric growled in pain as his ice was turned into steam with a loud hiss as soon as he touched the chains, and it scorched the palms of his hands. But he wasn't going to give up that easily. Powering through the pain, he tightened his grip and focused his power.

His heart pumped as much magic through his body as it could handle, and Kenric cool feel its coolness rushing through his veins and crawling under his skin. His hands began to glow a faint blue, and more steam hissed between them and the chains.

The more power Kenric produced, the less steam there was. Soon, the chains had cooled of completely, and they just looked like regular iron bindings.

But Kenric didn't stop there—he flooded the chains with ice and healing magic until they themselves glowed blue. The healing magic danced in blue-green sparks across Blaise's body and burrowed into his skin, healing the burns and closing his wounds.

Blaise's chest shuddered, but he didn't wake. Kenric, drained of his energy, fell to his knees.

"Are you all right?" Zane helped him to his feet, supporting Kenric under his arm.

"I'll be fine," Kenric said, taking deep, heavy breaths. "Hopefully I've eased his pain."

"Blaise will survive. It's you that I have to worry about right now. The last thing we need is for your own mind to come unraveled in all of this chaos and ruin."

"How could this happen?" Kenric gaze moved around the rubble. Was there anything left of Blaise's mind to salvage? How could one person repair so much destruction, and what had caused it in the first place?

"Some of it was already like this. Some, I hate to admit, is my fault. Two souls are not meant to share one body—we tampered with the very fabric of nature, and Blaise was not a willing participant."

"We?"

"It's... complicated."

"Clearly," Kenric said. "Complicated" was a gross understatement—Blaise's mind was in total ruin. "Where do I even start?"

***

Ezekiel rested his chin on his hands, looking over his friends. He couldn't grasp how everything had gone downhill so fast. His gaze was torn from Blaise's glowing red eyes when the doors to the infirmary were throne open.

"What happened?" King Nero asked, looking around the infirmary. Some of the nurses shared looked of concern, and it only made him more infuriated. "Answer me!"

Theron was still unconscious, Blaise and Kenric were trapped in some sort of magically-induced trance, and nurses were treating each other for various injuries Blaise had inflicted on them. Everything was a mess.

"Forgive us, Your Majesty," one of the nurses said, bowing to Nero. "When the boy woke, he was out of control. His companion tried to stop him, but they both became locked in a trance. It stopped the rampage, but neither of them have come to."

"What kind of trance?"

"We don't know, Sire."

Ezekiel hung his head down in defeat. In a way, he blamed himself for what had happened. If he and Phoenyx hadn't been so set on going into Cadmus, and dragging Blaise along, none of the past night's events would have occurred. Because of them, Blaise was—

"What's your name?"

It took a moment for Ezekiel to realize King Nero was speaking to him. His bright silver eyes stared hard at him, and Ezekiel quickly moved to the floor. He bowed, as Kenric had shown him, keeping his palms in plain sight.

"There's no need for that," Nero said, shaking his head. He waited for Ezekiel to get back up before he spoke again. "I asked for your name."

"Ezekiel, Your Highness. My friends call me Zeke."

"What's that one's story?" he asked, pointing to the bed where Blaise lay.

Blaise's eyes still glowed red, and his breathing was quick and shallow. His body was covered in scars, but nothing could compare to the one that ran down the center of his body.

"You wouldn't believe me, even if I told you," Ezekiel said, and Nero just laughed. The king went to his side, placing a hand on his shoulder. It was oddly comforting, and when Ezekiel looked up at the king, Nero smiled.

"Ezekiel, I've done things, seen things, and been places that many people wouldn't dare. I have lived among the Moonlight Faeries in the Dark Kingdom, sailed with the Oorlogians into the Forbidden Mists, run with Werewolves in the Badriyan Forest, and I fought the most powerful mage in this kingdom, all before I was twenty-five. Try me."

Ezekiel let out a long sigh, resting his chin against his hands again. Should he tell Nero about Blaise and the Dragon Prince? Maybe he would be able to help. But what if he was allied with Cadmus? What was stopping the Enforcers from invading Anzino?

"All right... I'll tell you. But... only you."

"Very well," Nero said, waving his nurses away. "I'll call for you if anyone's condition changes."

Once they were alone, save for their companions in the beds, the king looked down on Ezekiel with wide, expectant eyes.

"I assume there's more to this than just some kind of traumatic injury," Nero said, sitting in the chair beside Theron's bed. Phoenyx had gone to bed hours earlier. "Why else would you want my nurses out of the room?"

"I'm just trying to protect my friends."

"As you should." Nero nodded in approval. "We all have things we hold dear to us... things we would protect, even at the cost of our own lives... However, I can't help you keep them safe if I don't know what's going on."

"You're aware of what's been happening between Cadmus and Draconia for the past few years, right?"

"Of course. Isn't everyone? Unfortunately, no one wants to start a war. So, the other kingdoms refuse to intervene."

"We're already at war," Ezekiel said, scowling in disgust. He didn't know which was worse, Agni's tyranny or Nero's indifference.

"Please, tell me what's happened to your friend."

"I don't know the whole story," he explained, annoyed that King Nero wouldn't even address the matter of war. Wasn't Anzino supposed to be their ally? Or was King Nero under Agni's thumb? "What I do know is that the Dragon Prince escaped the Cleansing. He found someone to hide him away in a new body... a host for the Dragon Prince, that is... Blaise is that host. They... I don't know... they ripped him open and replaced parts of him with the Dragon Prince's. At least, the ones that Dragons need to use their power, I guess."

"How is that even possible?" Nero asked, glancing over at Blaise. "Everyone knows that Dragon blood is like poison to the Human body."

"I can only tell you what he's told us, and what little bits I've overheard—he doesn't like talking about it." Ezekiel shrugged. "He told Phoenyx that Zane can help heal him with his magic, but he'll never really recover from it until they're separated from each other. To do that, we need to find the Dragon Prince's body."

"How long have they been like this?"

"I don't know... Since before I met him. More than a year."

"Ezekiel," Nero said quietly, pinching the bridge of his nose as he let out a long sigh, "you can't separate them. If what you're saying is true... If Prince Zane really is inside your friend... Zane is probably the only thing keeping him alive at this point. Like I just said, Dragon blood is poison to Humans. Even if there was a way to clear out his blood, who knows what damage it's already done throughout his body? If you take Prince Zane away from him, he'll die."

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

***

"Do you really think this is such a good idea?" Kenric asked, sitting down on what was left of some kind of broken pillar. He wiped the sweat from his brow and stretched his aching arms over his head. He'd exhausted most of his healing magic—he needed to rest.

Zane raised an eyebrow at him. He was leaning against the ruins of what looked like a house that had burned down ages ago.

"Why wouldn't it be? I told you, his mind needs mending. Otherwise, he's going to just fall apart."

"I understand that..." Kenric sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. Why did he have such a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. "But... what if we end up fixing something that he doesn't want? Or something that he isn't meant to remember?"

"Such as..?"

"I don't know," he said with a shrug, looking around at the bits of Blaise's mind he'd been able to restore to some extent.

Even rebuilt, most of it was in some state of ruin. Clearly, Blaise had never lived an easy life. There wasn't much he'd been able to salvage. And to be honest, Kenric wasn't sure he was going to be able to keep going. Every once in a while, his own mind would start to fail him, and Zane would have to remind him why he was there.

"I'm just saying, I think we should tread lightly," he told the Dragon Prince. "The last thing we need is to wake something that should have stayed buried in the dark."

"Like him?" Zane questioned, shooting a hard stare over Kenric's shoulder. He gripped the hilt of his sword, his gaze never shifting.

Kenric took a deep breath and turned to see what Zane was looking at, and his heart pounded in his chest.

"What the hell is that?"

A tall, dark figure had appeared. The only way they could see him was the reflection of fire on his leather clothing. His face was hidden by an executioner's mask, and his leather gloves creaked as his tightened his grip on his weapon... a long chain in one hand, attached to the handle of a small scythe in the other.

"He's a Moordenaar," Zane explained, and Kenric could hear the scrape of metal as the Dragon Prince drew his sword. "They're an organization of assassins, from the archipelago off the coast of Oorlog."

All of Kenric's strength and courage had abandoned him. An assassin? What was he doing in Blaise's mind? He couldn't hurt them, could he? How could they fight a memory, when—

"Kenric!"

Zane's powerful voice cut through his thoughts, and Kenric tried to shake himself out of the paralyzing fear that had taken hold. The Moordenaar hadn't moved, and that frightened him more. What was he waiting for? Was he going to attack?

"Kenric, listen to me," Zane instructed. "I don't know where he came from, but we have to stop him."

"But... he's just a memory, isn't he? He can't hurt us—he's not real."

"You're wrong. He's very real. Moordenaar specialize in invasion of the mind. Left to his own devices, he'll drive Blaise into madness, and then force him to kill himself. That's how their murders can't be traced back to the organization."

"Make Blaise kill himself? He can't really do that, can he?"

Kenric was shocked. As someone who also had power to invade and control minds, he couldn't fathom ever using it for something so sinister.

"This man must have been very close to Blaise a long time ago," Zane explained. "The only way for Moordenaar to destroy their targets this way is to create a relationship with them on an emotional level. The emotional response is what sustains the astral projection of the assassin. We have to get rid of him."

"Stupid children," the dark figure said, his voice deep and intimidating. It filled the darkness, echoing with a thousand other voices all around them. How could one memory hold such power over Blaise's mind? "Don't interfere."

"Unfortunately for you," Prince Zane told him, pointing his sword at the man, "I share this body now, and I will protect Blaise."

The stranger scoffed, spinning his chain in his hand. It was unnerving to Kenric, not being able to see his face. The lack of emotion made him seem less Human. No... this wasn't Human... it couldn't be—he was some kind of monster... a demon that tormented Blaise's mind. But who was he? And why did he want to claim Blaise's life?

The assassin struck first, his chain striking Zane's sword with a deafening clang. It spun around the blade a few times, and the Moordenaar tried to pull the weapon out of the prince's hands. Zane was strong, though, and yanked his sword free.

He tried to advance on the Moordenaar, but was forced to step back as the man swung the other end of his weapon, the scythe narrowly missing Zane's face. They needed to keep out of range.

"Kenric," Zane said, never taking his eyes off the assassin, "you need to think of a way to defeat him."

"Me?" Kenric's heart thumped wildly in his chest, and his breath came out in short, panicky huffs. What could he do? What did the Dragon Prince think he could do against such a powerful darkness that consumed Blaise's mind? He didn't even think he had enough magic left in him to use against the assassin. "I don't know how."

"I told you not to interfere!"

The dark figure lashed out with his chain again, but not at Prince Zane. It twisted around Kenric's forearm, and he yanked on it, causing it to tighten painfully. Kenric stumbled forward, forced to his knees while he struggled to free himself.

"Release him," Zane demanded, taking the opportunity to get in close to the Moordenaar. But he only had his attacks blocked by the small scythe. With each attack from Zane, and every block from the Moordenaar, the chained tightened more around Kenric's arm, and he feared he might actually tear it off.

"Go on, keep fighting." The man laughed, his sinister voice echoing all around them. "All you're doing is hurting the boy."

"Who are you?" Zane tightened his grip on his sword, but didn't strike again. His gaze shifted to Kenric, then back to the Moordenaar. "Why are you here?"

Kenric was thankful they had stopped fighting, while he tried to pry his arm free. He needed to get the chain off quickly—his hand was going numb.

"That's none of your concern," the man said. With a flick of his wrist, the chain loosened and released Kenric. "Stay out of my way! My business is with this child."

"He's not a child," Kenric told him, clutching his injured arm. It was already covered in dark bruises, and he had to keep wriggling his fingers to bring the feeling back into his hand. "And we're not going to let you kill him."

"Oh? What makes you think you can stop me?"

"Don't be so cocky." Kenric's fear had all but vanished, replaced by anger. "We will cast you out!"

"Try me," the assassin said, readying his weapon again.

Kenric stepped forward, but the Moordenaar swung his weapon, the scythe just grazing the front of Kenric's shirt. How could they beat him when they couldn't even get close to him?

He advanced on Kenric and Zane, putting them on the defensive. He swung his weapon with deadly intent, and all they could do was try their best to avoid being ensnared by the chain. They were making no progress towards defeating the man.

Kenric's eyes went wide as he got an idea in his head. He would create an opening for Zane. Flexing his fingers nervously, he took a deep breath before rushing at the man.

"Kenric, stop!"

Ignoring Zane's warning, Kenric rushed straight at the Moordenaar. The chain struck him, and he was thrown to the ground as it twisted tightly around his neck. He gripped the chain firmly as the man yanked on it, trying to prevent being strangled, but with little success.

"I told you to stay out of my way, and now you're going to die," he told Kenric, pulling harder. Kenric writhed on the ground, unable to speak or breathe.

Zane took the opening and rushed at the man, but again, he was able to defend himself from Zane's sword with relative ease while still keeping hold of Kenric. With a powerful swing of his scythe, he sliced Zane's hand, forcing him to drop his sword, and then he kicked the Dragon Prince away from him.

Darkness crept into the edges of Kenric's vision while he struggled to free himself from the chain around his throat. His chest ached, his lungs begging for air, but the hold was too tight. As he started to close his eyes, something rushed past him... a blur of red and black.

The Moordenaar was thrown back... without his weapon. He clutched his torso as he fell to his knees, and blood trickled between his fingers. He growled, and looked up to see what had attacked him, while Zane rushed to free Kenric. Everyone's eyes went wide when they turned their attention to the newest member of the battle.

It was Blaise, looking good as new, and dressed in full Occultus Draconem uniform. He had taken up Zane's sword, and assumed a fighting stance as the assassin forced himself to his feet.

"Keep your filthy hands off my friends, Orion!"

"Orion?" the assassin tilted his head to the side curiously before picking up his weapon. "I see no one has taught you any manners after all these years. That's no way to address your father."

"Father?" Kenric's jaw dropped, and he could see Blaise's back tense up.

"You ain't my da," Blaise said, his voice low and threatening. "Now, get outta my head!"

"Not until you're dead."

"Then I'll force you out! I ain't gonna die. You mighta got to my ma, but you ain't gonna get me!"

"Come on, then," he told Blaise, weapon at the ready.

Blaise rushed at his father, but not as blindly as Kenric had—he had clearly encountered Orion's weapon before. He dodged the chain easily, protecting himself with Zane's sword.

Kenric and Zane could feel the rage inside Blaise's mind, intensifying the roaring fires around them. Once he got past Orion's defenses, Blaise brought Zane's sword down on him.

Orion stepped back, but not fast enough. The sword cut into his shoulder, and he shoved Blaise back with cry of rage.

"You stupid brat," he growled, gripping his bleeding arm. He threw his weapon on the ground, unable to wield it with only one good arm, and unsheathed the sword strapped to his back. "You're just as pathetic now as the day you escaped the fire."

"I don't understand," Kenric said, watching the two go at each other relentlessly. "How is Blaise able to fight? You and I both saw him, bound in chains and barely alive."

"His mind has gotten stronger." Zane's eyes were intense as he looked over Kenric for injuries. There was bruising on his throat, but nothing too severe. "Your healing magic must have done more for him than we expected."

Screams of pain echoed through the darkness as Orion and Blaise ran each other through with their blades.

"Blaise!"

"Get out," Blaise demanded, coughing up blood. He kept a firm grip on Zane's sword, adding more pressure against his father. "Get out or I'll kill you!"

"Stupid child!" Orion tore his mask off and tossed it aside as he coughed and choked, spitting blood onto the ground. Even with a sword through his stomach, he still managed a sinister grin. "You know I'll just come back if I leave!"

"Then I'll kill you now!"

Orion growled in pain as Blaise leaned into Zane's sword, glaring at his father. The hate and anger that radiated through Blaise's mind was like standing in the fire itself. Even Kenric and Zane were uncomfortable with the heat.

"Enough!" Orion grabbed Blaise by the shoulder and threw him back. In a whirlwind of smoke and shadow, he was gone.

Kenric and Zane rushed to where Blaise lay on the ground, clutching his wound. His body convulsed as he choked on his own blood.

"I will continue to attend to his mind," Zane told Kenric, "but you will need to take care of his body. These kinds of injuries affect the physical body."

A jolt went through Kenric like a punch to the chest, and his eyes shot open. He jumped up from the infirmary bed and shoved past Nero and Ezekiel, to Blaise's side.

"Kenric? What happened?"

Still unconscious, Blaise started to choke, and the bandages around his body became soaked in fresh blood. Kenric didn't hesitate to start pumping him full with what little healing magic he could must. Blood dripped out of the corners of Blaise's mouth while he coughed and gagged.

"I need some Draíocht over here!" he called to the nurses, who began scrambling around to do as he said. "Hurry up!"

The injection of Draíocht, combined with Kenric's healing magic, seemed to do the trick. Blaise's body relaxed, and he breathed easier. Kenric did too, letting out a long, tired sigh.

"Kenric!" Ezekiel rushed to his side, looking over him with concern. There were bruises on Kenric's arm and throat, which had appeared on his body while he was still unconscious. "What the hell happened to you?"

"Are you all right?" King Nero asked, standing over him. Kenric didn't even bother to bow—he was too tired.

"I'm fine," he replied in a hoarse voice, rubbing his sore neck. It ached from where the Orion's chain had been, trying to strangle him. "My control over Blaise backfired, and then he was attacked by a Moordenaar..."

"A Moordenaar?" Nero's eyes went wide, but before he could say anything else, Blaise groaned in pain and shifted on the bed. They all braced themselves for another outburst, but when Blaise opened his eyes, he just lay there, and he looked at Kenric.

"Please tell me I ain't sleepin' no more," he said, and Kenric let out a heavy sigh of relief.

"You're awake."

"I feel like I been trampled on." Blaise groaned again, clutching his ribs. When he tried to sit up, Kenric forced him back down.

"Don't get up yet. You've been through a lot."

"Where am I?"

"This is the Kingdom of Anzino, to the east of Cadmus," Nero said.

When Blaise saw King Nero, his jaw dropped. Were his eyes playing a trick on him? He couldn't comprehend the vision in front of him. There was no way Kenric was telling the truth—he wasn't awake yet. He couldn't be...

"Daemon? But... you—"

"I'm sorry," King Nero interrupted, putting his hand up to silence Blaise, "but I'm not Daemon. I am Nero Arnaldo, and I'm just as sorry that my brother is gone as anyone else."

"Oh..." Blaise looked away from him, a defeated look on his face. He didn't say anything else, but a small sob escaped his lips, and tears ran down the side of his face.

"Blaise..." Kenric placed his hand on his shoulder, but Blaise turned away, his back to them. "I'm sorry, Blaise."

"Please, just go away," Blaise said quietly. Kenric started to protest, but Nero shook his head.

"Let him mourn," Nero said. "Go get some rest. Your friends are in good hands."

Once Kenric and Ezekiel had gone, Nero sat on the edge of the bed where Blaise lay, looking over the young man with interest.

"I heard that my twin brother took care of you. Daemon always did have a soft spot for orphans."

"You're twins?" Blaise asked, keeping his back to Nero. King or not, Blaise didn't want to face him... not when he looked so much like Daemon.

"Yes. Daemon was born first. I don't suppose he ever told you that, or any stories about what happened before he left Anzino."

"No... He didn't tell me nothin'. I didn't even know he was a mage 'til the day he died."

"Daemon used to be the king here. When he turned the kingdom over to me and left, he had vowed to never use magic again. If he used his magic, and gave his life to protect you, you must have been very precious to him."

"I didn't ask for none of this," Blaise growled, clenching his fists and covering his face. "I never wanted no one to die for me. I don't wanna do this no more."

"Unfortunately, it seems as though you have no say in the matter."

"Shut up! You ain't one to talk?"

"Excuse me?" Nero questioned, a hint of annoyance in his voice.

"What are you doin' to stop this from happenin? Nothin'! You sit here, holed up in your damned castle, just watchin' from the sides. Sure, you been takin' in refugees, but you ain't done nothin' to get 'em their land or their lives back. You tell me I ain't got no choice helpin' the Dragons, all while you ain't gonna lift a finger!"

"There's no sense in starting a war."

"We're already at war!" Blaise finally sat up and face Nero, fire in his eyes. "What don't nobody seem to get about that? Agni been at war with the Dragons for years, and no one's botherin' to help 'em! Do whatever you wanna—it's your kingdom—but this war's gonna end up on your doorstep sooner or later, whether you like it or not! And you better be ready, 'cause just like what happened in Draconia, there ain't gonna be no warnin'!"