Manuel slammed the door of his house shut and slumped on the cold hard floor. Manon broke free from his embrace and peered at him. He sunk his head into his knees and cocooned himself against the door. His breathing was hard and irregular, and his heart beat furiously against his chest. Manon patted him in the head lightly and then quietly sat beside him, leaning her head on his knees.

Manuel suppressed a small smile. He picked her up and carried her to the bedroom. He ignored the uneasy feeling that erupted at the pit of his stomach and gently laid her down on the bed. Sitting next to her, he wrapped the soft blanket which Mora had woven around her figure.

He placed a soft kiss on her forehead.

"Things will change soon, Manon," he said. But he could not shake the feeling that he was lying to himself.

The only way he could ever change things was by reviving his powers, but Manuel knew that no matter how much he tried, what was gone couldn't be brought back, just like his family and dragon.

After nearly two hours, Manuel stood outside the house, his eyes wandering, trying to catch sight of his aunt and cousin. Even Lena, who was supposed to be home by then, was missing. The sounds of his aunt being whipped were no longer heard. He had seen crowds of villagers walk back home minutes ago but neither Lena nor Manson were anywhere in sight.

He caught the attention of the neighbor's daughter as she passed by his house.

"Hey, could you please stay at my house and look after Manon? I'll be back in a moment," he said. The girl looked at him quizzically before nodding her head. Manuel offered her a smile of gratitude before heading off to the weaving house.

The weaving house was locked, and the lights were put out. Manuel looked inside through the glass windows and was met with pure blackness. Just as he turned to go back home, he noticed the foot marks of Nazim's troop on the wet ground.

Manuel followed the marks which led to Nazim's mansion. He froze, the ends of his skin standing up as he noticed what was happening inside the house. Troops of soldiers rushed inside the courtyard. They tied Mora to a wooden plank which was firmly secured to a cherry tree at the centre of the courtyard. Parts of Mora's skin were torn and blood flowed out furiously. Mora groaned in pain as a soldier dragged a piece of hot coal across her skin, creating burns.

Two soldiers were holding Manson by his arms as he protested and tried to limp towards his mother. Manuel hurried inside the courtyard, his fury evident on his face. Soldiers rushed towards him and held him back as he tried to go near the chief.

"Well, if it isn't the orphan. I see that you have come to beg in place of your aunt. I might consider it if you offer me the other girl. Manon, that was her name, wasn't it?" Nazim said, a glint in his eyes.

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One of the soldiers whacked Manuel across his shoulders, sending him to the ground. Manuel spat at Nazim, his eyes burning.

"You filthy..." he started, but before he could say any further, Nazim stood up and ordered, "Bring the girl here."

Nazim firmly held Manuel by his chin and grazed his jaw. "I wonder what you will have to say when I take the girl right in front of your eyes."

"Please..." his aunt's voice echoed from the background. Manuel felt blood rush through his veins as he pictured Nazim's words. If anything happened to Manon, god forbid, he was going to be the death of that guy.

Within a few minutes, Manon had been brought to the scene. Nazim gestured to his soldiers to bring her forward.

Manuel felt his breathing become heavier with each step Manon took. She was trembling and stopped a couple of inches in front of Nazim. Bile rose to his throat and Manuel bit the arm of the soldier on his left and smacked the one on the right with force. He ran towards Manon, but his steps faltered as a piece of metal cut through the air and sliced through his flesh.

Manuel's body shook and he felt his eyes become hazy. Sweat droplets clouded at his forehead and fell on the cold ground, a mark of his desperation. His vision spiraled and the last thing Manuel could see was the brick pavement and Manon's shadow lying on it.

***

Blood.

Dark, red and innocent blood.

Manuel saw Manson, motionless against the tree, his head split open, the blood seeping into the roots of the tree and tainting it. His aunt had been tied to the tree; her body stripped of her clothes using which they had hung her to the branch.

Manuel tried to stand up, but his knees shook, and blood oozed out from the wound in his abdomen. He took a few steps towards the tree where his aunt was and stumbled against it when he saw Manon lying on the ground, the dress she had worn, torn and barely on her body. Her eyes had rolled back, and a trace of hot salty tears were still on her cheeks.

Manuel felt his heart shatter as he took in her frame. He lifted her seemingly lifeless body and held her close, the way he always did when she could not sleep. His fingers trembled slightly and he raised it up, trying to caress her cheeks. Manuel felt a rush of joy course through him as he felt the pulse that was still beating in her body. Her royal blood had not failed her.

The soldiers stood around in their posts guarding the mansion. Nazim had long gone inside to have a drink with his sons in the study, the way he always did. Manuel heard the laughter that came from inside; the chinks of the glass as they drank, and the turning of pages.

Manuel felt every inch of his body being consumed. Consumed by what, he did not know. But his body was scorching and Manuel felt something burn him near his collarbone. He felt a sound ring against his ears violently, causing him to jerk and crash against the tree. He folded his hands over his ears tightly, his face scrunching together as he gritted his teeth. The pain was unbearable.

Suddenly, the sound stopped. Manuel did not hear anything for a moment, anything except the heavy gush of wind. The sound of chaos brewing was all he heard. And before he knew it, his whole body was glowing, hues of orange and white flames dancing around him with elegance. Soft cracks appeared on his skin, the way they always had, before he had lost his powers. The mark of a dragon started engraving itself on his skin, sending stings shooting deep down his flesh.

Manuel's eyes gleamed with realization and a second heart started beating from within his body. If his royal birth mark had come back, it only meant one thing.

His dragon, Jardex, had won the gamble with death.