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Chapter Fourteen

We stopped on a cliff jutting out from a mountain. After all the flying I had done, my wings couldn't carry me any further. A distant sound echoed through the mountain range--like running water, but I couldn't pinpoint the source.

"Xithris, what is that?" I asked.

Part of me still hated him. However, another part had come to see him as trustworthy.

"That's right: you haven't been here before. This is the northern region of Dravawynn. If you follow that stream--" he said, pointing to the small river at the bottom of the valley "--it will lead to a grand waterfall the likes of which you have never seen before. It spans the length of many mountains."

So, that was the sound of a waterfall. Mother always described the sound to me but never bothered to take me to see a real one. Just another thing that made me realize my parents didn't care for me--doing only the bare minimum to keep me alive. But in the end, they killed me anyway.

"Come on. Let's get moving. I want to get back before dusk. Besides, I am sure Ymithia and Cyndrithil are waiting for you. "He spread his wings and took off, and I followed behind.

And that reminds me of the next part. I would have Xithris tell them everything I revealed to him and the elders. Part of my conditions for returning. The other was that if they reacted negatively, I could leave. No one could persuade me otherwise.

Butterflies filled my stomach at just the thought of revealing my past to them. Would they turn away? Would they try to hurt me?

If it came to that, I trusted Xithris enough to stop them, give me enough time to escape. Ymithia and Cyndrithil were another story, after yesterday I didn't think I trusted them anymore. Or, perhaps my trust simply lay dormant.

The sound of the waterfall faded away, leaving on the rustling wind behind. I could tell by how Xithris's ears kept twitching he was still able to hear the waterfall. I, on the other hand, would never be able to get my full hearing back. One day, I would be fine with that. It would be the same day I killed Draconus and his precious mate. Until then, I would focus on getting stronger, with or without the help of the dragons in Dravawynn.

According to Xithris, the northernmost route was the fastest through Dravawynn, rather than returning in the haphazard direction we took on the way here. Our flight was mostly silent. Occasionally a few dragons would stop us, saying hello to Xithris and inquiring about me. I flew off during those awkward times and waited for Xithris to finish.

Eventually, the mountain I had called home came into view. Plants dotted the base in a cascade of colors. Sometimes, I thought I saw a dragon down there, only for them to disappear in the blink of an eye amidst the ever flowing plants

We landed on the rugged cliff, my paws resting against the familiar stone once again. My wings fell like lead behind me, thankful for a break from the exhausting flight.

My heart pounded like a drum as we arrived at the den. I reluctantly followed Xithris inside, fruitlessly attempting to focus on anything other than what was to come.

We rounded the corner. Further down, light shone through doorways at regular intervals marking each room. The first one was the room I had been staying in. The one after that, a green dragon named Cythra stayed. I still thought she was crazy after barging in, waking everyone up, going as far as bowing to me. I still wasn't sure what to think about the whole thing. I didn't even do anything to help her, so, her reaction seemed wrong, but a sense of righteousness came over me that I kept trying to ignore.

Inside, Ymithia and Cyndrithil were nowhere to be found. We entered only to find orange light illuminating the flowering pots hanging from the walls in a picturesque setting. Nothing had changed.

"I will go find them, when I do, do you want to be there when I tell them?"

Part of me wanted to be there to see their reactions. The other part of me wasn't sure I could handle it. I had been hurt a lot in the past, but what was a little more pain?

"I want to be there," I declared.

"Very well," he said with a firm nod. "I will be back with them shortly."

With those words, I was left with nothing but the company of my thoughts as Xithris flew off to find Ymithia and Cyndrithil.

***

Ymerc was asleep when I returned. He must have been as exhausted as I was with all the flying we did. As young as he is, he really shouldn't have been able to fly for as long as he did. Before his escape yesterday, I had been looking into legends, specifically those involving healing and dark magic. I was attempting to figure out Ymerc and his weird ability that saved not only me, but Cythra as well. Shame it couldn't have saved Furest too.

While there were stories of dragons being able to bring others back from near death, it wasn't anything outside of the norm for dragonkind. Eventually, it led me to dark magic which traced back to Britosa--the only dragon that came close to Ymerc. Legend has it that her power was capable of bringing the recently deceased back to life. If the dead were to come back now, even if they had been so even for a few moments, they would be exiled along with whoever brought them back. The dead should stay dead. At least, that's the opinion that has formed by the majority of dragonkind over the last few millennia, and one that I had come to believe.

Until now.

The further back I went into her life and dark magic, the more frequently inconsistencies appeared. One dragon recalled her heroic effort in the first skirmish against dark magic, while another talked about her defeat in that same battle. One of them is a lie, and nothing I have read tells me anything more. It was there I was dragged from my den by Cyndrithil.

I really could not wait to get back and find out more. For now, I had to deal with this.

I poked Ymerc in the shoulder. He slowly woke, his jaws opening in a great toothy yawn before settling down and resting his eyes on his parents.

Emotions vied for control over his heart: fear and anger were among the more powerful, but hope outshined them all. A plea for acceptance and love, his heart singing of all it had lost and all it hoped to gain.

Before I got a word in Ymerc started, the emotions battling for control disappeared.

He recounted his interrogation before resting his gaze on me, giving me a silent signal--the emotions I had seen earlier once again battling for control.

Once his emotions vanished, he seemed like a different dragon: calm, collected. I shoved my questions aside for now, focusing on the more important matter at hand.

"Long ago, you swore to me in front of all of Dravawynn to love Ymerc and protect him as your own. Tonight, that will be tested."

I watched their hearts turn from confusion to worry. I had no doubt that they would do the right thing. However, I wanted to make sure it was their hearts desire and not the mind. The mind can lie while the heart cannot.

"The night you rescued Ymerc, you witnessed a dragon of dark blue scales attacking him. That was his father. The same dragon who is responsible for giving Ymerc his scars."

Silence filled the room before Ymithia's voice pierced the room.

"We already know" she calmly stated.

Since when?

"How?" Ymerc asked, posing the same question I had.

Cyndrithil's deep voice reverberated through the room. "After Furest died, we were asked by her parents to take a look through her den--take anything that we wanted. The only thing that came to mind was the moss she slept on each night. As we were moving it, we uncovered a book."

Cyndrithil let his mate finish the story.

Ymithia's sweet voice hitched before she proceeded:

"Inside, it spoke of her biggest secret: her gift of telepathy. It also spoke of your memories Ymerc. It was then we found out that your parents, not just your father, tortured you for years before you escaped."

I wondered if Furest would take her secret to her grave. Years ago, after I started working closely with the elders, they revealed Furest and her telepathy to me. I kept her secret knowing it was never my place to say anything. Other clans, if they found out would do anything to get their claws on her, telepathy is a rare and powerful gift. The last time a dragon used it they swept through the clan in the east getting rid of any dragon who secretly used dark magic. They died before they could do anymore.

My thoughts were interrupted when Ymithia and her mate raced to Ymerc,

wrapping him in their wings.

My job here was done. I had completed my end of our deal, and I trusted Ymerc to keep his.

I left, heading back to my den to keep researching Draconus and his mate. Over the last few days, I had done everything I could to find them. Dark magicians as powerful as them could not be ignored. Every time I thought I made headway I hit a dead end. Draconus sure knew how to cover his tracks. Then there was the sudden and dramatic change in Ymerc's personality, I wondered if it had any connection to healing me and Cythra. I needed to look into that too.

I headed back home, intent on finding Draconus.

The sun was starting its long descent, its light casting long shadows in the valley below as Ymithia and Cyndrithil guided me to their den and my home. With my aching wings stretched out on either side catching the wind I glided on the soft cooling breeze.

I wondered what their den looked like. I imagined it similar to the den I was born in and the den I lived in for years after: gray, lifeless, and covered in shadows. A bleak place well suited for the lives of torturers.

I followed my parents as they banked down, following the downdraft towards the base of a snowcapped mountain. A copse of trees surrounded three sides of it before stopping for the seeming limitless range of mountains that stretched beyond.

Ymithia landed in front of an outcropping of boulders sticking out from the mountain. Only after landing did I realize the outcropping hid the entrance to a large den. Finally, I was able to rest my aching wings. At one point I thought I could live in the sky, now all I wanted was to sleep. I didn't have the strength to carry my wings, instead letting them drag heavily along the ground carving small paths through the dirt.

Once inside the shadows gave way to light. Blue algae glowed along parts of the ceiling lighting up the different raw crystals that sprouted from parts of the walls and floor. In the center sat a large blanket of moss, I figured this was the same moss that Furest had in her den. Running my paws over the velvet like plant I knew I should feel honored to be able to sleep on what was once Furest's bedding, but all I felt was a dark empty hole in my chest.

Before we left, Ymithia said Furest's funeral was tomorrow. It was my decision to stay here or go, and feeling the hole left in my heart by her absence I knew I needed to go even if I didn't want to. She saved my life it was the least I could do for her now.

"Dont get too comfortable," Cyndrithil said after I sat down, the soft moss rubbing over my belly.

"Why not?" I asked. If they wanted to go somewhere else, they were gonna have to drag me. My wings were heavier than a full-grown tree.

"We thought it best to take you home before you met the other hatchlings," Ymithia spoke up, moving beside Cyndrithil.

"Others my age?" I suppose I hadn't given any thought about dragons my age, far too much has happened and not all of it I want to remember.

"Let's go. It's about time you were introduced to the other hatchlings. I hear from their parents they are dying to meet you."

***

Anirin perched on the outlook in the Hatchlings' Den, a place specially for hatchlings to meet and play with others their own age. A large tree grew in the center, reaching out its branches, colliding with the walls in a tangled mess. A hole near the top of the mountain let in rays of dimming light from the fading sun. Hatchlings played and frolicked below.

Several times a week, the hatchlings gathered in different places throughout the clan. This den was for the southernmost reaches. Other dens sat in the East, North, and West. An adult dragon always kept watch over them, usually one that knew healing magic like Anirin in case of injuries--which happened fairly often.

How he got stuck doing this was still confusing to him, the events happening all too quickly for him to make sense of. Before he knew it, he was on guard duty. Like his parents, he despised the job and most other dragons. It was only thanks to his years spent in hiding in the shadows, he knew a stupid easily manipulated dragon when he met one, and the elders were far too easy.

Anirin's eyes glossed over as he recalled how one by one they fell to his dark sorcery. The first one Marst, a mud-colored dragon from head to paw, was the first to become his puppet. His skill in persuasion, while powerful, has its drawbacks as well. Using it on Ymerc was all too taxing for his old body. All it took was a few different tries before Marst was nothing more than a puppet. After that, the other elders, Aurora, Ciril, and Mickril fell like dominoes.

Anirin loved the feeling of watching their eyes as they realized who he was and what he was doing before they glossed over and fell into a deep sleep from which they would never wake.

Even miles from their motionless bodies he could feel their spirits fighting for control of their bodies, all for naught but he wasn't about to tell them that and ruin his fun of watching their constant struggle.

It had been years since new dark sorcery had been discovered. Others like him had nearly given up that dark magic had been truly sealed and all these years it was just a lingering soul, but Anirin knew better. He had given his soul away completely to it after seeing the beautiful vision it gave him of a world without chaos, war, and struggle. A world where freedom and destiny no longer existed. And after seeing his parents killed by a rogue dragon just after he turned forty, he was all too eager to give his life away for the hope of no more bloodshed. And once he did, power unlike he had ever felt flooded his body, an avalanche of pure raw power assaulted him. With it came small amounts of knowledge of dark sorcery, a name far closer to its true power than what those pitiless dragons call dark magic.

With the newfound knowledge he realized the one flaw in the seal that kept dark magic away. Each clan held a part of the key. No--it would be more accurate to say each clan was the key. Only when each clan fell would the seal be weak enough for the true creature of dark sorcery to be freed from his confines and issue forth a bloodless world.

But first he had to take down Dravawynn. For years, he had tried different tactics and each time they failed, and each time he had a scapegoat in which to save himself. It wasn't until after Furest died that he sent his scout to search her den for anything important. There, he found plenty of evidence that spoke of her telepathy, which explained why all his flawless plans went to waste. Though, according to her diary, she suspected several dragons, one of which was Anirin.

His heart nearly stopped when he realized how close he had come to being killed all these years. It was a good thing the creature he called dark sorcery gave him the knowledge to hide his thoughts. Only realizing how close she had come only to fail made his heart release and his lungs fill with air before laughter escaped his gaping wide maw.

He had to hand it to Furest. So close, yet so very far after all these years. Now with Ymerc in possession of the location of the book of dark sorcery, things were falling into place. Anirin recalled his vision of speaking directly with dark sorcery, a voice so deep, so menacing it froze his bones even after he had awoken.

The dream did give him knowledge. It said wait, be patient and all things would fall into place. He would know what to do when the time came. At last, with the new spell of taking over another's body, and with the location of dark magic so close to his grasp, he could finally taste victory. The only thing he had to worry about was the dragon capable of cleansing dark magic from others, and he still had no idea who it was. Countless hours looking into every dragon and their known gifts. Countless hours sending his spy in the middle of the night to watch those he suspected. All of it a waste.

He was beginning to think his spy was falsifying information, though that was impossible. Anirins spell made sure he had no recollection of his actions. In fact, he had no idea what he was doing at all except maybe some horrific dreams filled with blood curdling roars.

Another set of steps drew Anirin out of his thoughts before a red dragon covered in scars entered the den.

Great, another burden to watch over. And if it isn't the newest addition to the clan, he thought.

Anirin waited to find the dragon capable of cleaning dark magic before he took Ymerc. Anirin nearly gagged at his name. Mercy. Where was mercy when my parents were killed in front of me? Where was mercy when a phoenix tried to kill me not a day later?

As soon as he found the location of the book, Anirin was gonna rip Ymerc to pieces.

First, came finding the dragon whom Britosa had decided to bless with her limitless mercy as it is called by others.

Anirin froze, his mind running at the same pace it had the night he was almost caught by a small group of dragons--the night his second plan to bring the clan of Dravawynn to ruin.

It couldn't be that simple? Could it?

But then again, these things always were that simple, and often the most overlooked.

The dragon he had been searching for, Ymerc, was one and the same, filled with the knowledge of dark magic and blessed by Britosa the cleanser of dark sorcery itself.

If Anirin had been alone, he would have burst out laughing. But he didn't want to give himself away here, at least not yet. As dumb as hatchlings were, all he had to do was wait for the right moment and then he would strike, and one by one they would fall.

Anirin watched as Ymerc was swarmed by the others, an ever-growing pile of unfolding wings and jumping bodies. Questions thrown at him one after the other seemingly without breath.

"What is the outside like?"

"Have you seen a phoenix?"

"Are they as fiery as the stories say?"

Anirin ignored the rest of the questions, deeming them pointless. He had met a phoenix years ago, his opinion of them was ruined when it tried to kill him. It was before he had learned to hide the stench of dark sorcery on his scales with the spell that made it safer to fly during a storm, only if one put their nose directly to his scales would they be able to smell his use of foul sorcery. The phoenix must have had a much better nose than dragons. Still, it was a fairly simple battle. The phoenix wasn't even fully grown. It was easy to dispatch him and watch as his body fell motionless to the ground, bloody mist exploding from the collision of phoenix to ground.

Anirin returned his attention to the hatchlings below. His eyes roamed over the calmed bodies and expectant gazes. Ymerc sat in the center of the crowd, his voice lazily wafting up to the alcove where Anirin rested.

"A few months ago, I met a tribe of harpies. Each week, they held a tribe wide race. A small group of harpies with the same wingspan and abilities were pitted against each other...."

His voice faded around the sudden gasps of the other hatchlings.

Anirin had always wondered what happened to that clan. It was always a constant flow of dark mana from them, until one night, it stopped. He pretended to be their deity, demanding sacrifices that fueled his strength and kept his lifeforce strong. Even now, he had outlived two younger elders. And when they didn't obey. All it took was a simple spell and several of them died, though the only time that happened was just over eight years ago. Since then, they obeyed every time he asked for a sacrifice. He was even planning to use them to help take down this clan, but those plans went to Qoneara in a single night.

Anirin wondered if Ymerc knew anything about that. He was likely one of the last few to see them alive. He would have to pay the creature responsible for the harpies' deaths a personal visit, their deaths destroying years of planning.

Anirin remembered how easy it was to manipulate the harpies into believing he was a deity. So simple. All it took was some simple teleportation and they were like clay, moldable, willing to do anything he said. Every so often he would teleport down there and pretend to be a god for a while, really quite relaxing when things did not go his way. Abusing and shaming harpies to his heart's content always made him feel better.

Anirin was focused on his memories of tormenting the harpies; he almost didn't realize the time had come. All the hatchlings except for Ymerc had their backs to Anirin, it wouldn't be long and Ymerc would be in his clutches.

***

It was hard to keep up with their endless questions, each one focused on the world outside of the clan's borders. When I asked why, all they said was they weren't allowed to leave the borders until they reached maturity.

It made sense. From what I had experienced out there, the world was a dangerous place. It was no wonder that they weren't allowed to leave until they were strong enough to take care of themselves.

After a while of answering their questions, I noticed a few dragons in the back had fallen asleep, envy crept into my heart. I wanted to fall asleep. My wings still ached something fierce and I was constantly battling to stay awake. The endless questions helped me stay awake, focusing on the memories of the outside world while trying to stay away from the moments of disaster and agony. I ignored any of the questions that hit too close to home and swiftly answered others, pretending I hadn't heard them.

Slowly, more dragons fell asleep until the only ones still awake were the ones closest to me. By then, their seemingly limitless questions had dissipated. Instead, they chose to ask me what I thought about life with the clan.

I answered the only way I could: truthfully. While life here was very different from the one I had living with Draconus and his mate, I realized I was getting used to it, albeit slowly. And it wasn't terrible. In fact, living with Ymithia and Cyndrithil was so much better than Draconus. With them, they held me close as we slept, and I found that more peaceful and loving than anything I had come to know thus far, and something I looked forward to each night.

How could I run away from that? I was so focused on my pain I didn't take a moment to think about what I was giving up, and the nights spent wrapped in Ymithia's warm wings and held snugly under Cyndrithil's paw were nights I couldn't live without.

The dragon closest to me, draped in violet scales, was in the middle of asking me something when his jaws parted in a great yawn that had me opening my mouth as well. She hadn't even rested her head on her paws before falling asleep.

With barely a moment's rest in between all the flying and questions, I was about ready to do the same thing.

As soon as I was about to rest myself, a pair of wing beats reached my ears. A large, black dragon with a scar over his eye landed outside the group. He forcefully moved the hatchlings out of his way, swinging his tail back and forth knocking them even further away, not caring about injuring them or waking them up.

The air grew heavier with each step he took. My chest constricted trying in vain to siphon oxygen.

The dark dragon reached for me. With his head angled down, he inspected me with contempt. In a swift motion, my head struck the ground, pinned beneath his grip. Pain ricocheted inside my skull, rattling my brain. The room spun in violent swirls, my stomach threatening to upend itself.

Before an image could form, everything crackled into darkness.

***

Anirin knew it wasn't safe to teleport inside the Hatchlings' Den. There were too many spells placed in and around this place to protect them from dark magic. Using dark sorcery here would be suicidal. He would have to drag Ymerc out of here. And once he was well away from this awful place, he could teleport to his den.

Anirin wrapped his tail around Ymerc and dragged him outside. It was hard to fly without the use of one's tail. Until he found the location of the book, Anirin didn't want to risk killing him. While Anirin hated it, he picked Ymerc up in his claws and took off. He didn't have a choice in the matter. Flying while carrying the hatchling with his tail put them both in danger. If he hit a sudden downdraft, he wouldn't have his tail to balance him.

Besides, it's not like it was forever. It would be only a short distance before he could teleport, then he'd never had to lay another claw on a ratty hatchling for the rest of his life. Except for Ymerc.

It would take a little persuasion to get Ymerc to tell him about the book. He was all too excited to start.

Anirin's ears picked up the sound of beating wings behind him. When he turned, he found Xithris' white scales against the night. Anirin shifted Ymerc in his paw, making it look more caring and less like he wanted to drop him before hovering, waiting for Xithris to catch up. While he had a plan to deal with Xithris, it would be best to keep him unawares for the moment. There would come a time when Anirin will rely on Xithris. For now, it would be best if Xithris had no idea of Anirins plans.

"Anirin, what are you doing out so late? And what are you doing with Ymerc?"

Without missing a beat, Anirin replied:

"Ymithia sent a message saying they got held up with dark magic near their den. They went to take care of it, and asked me if I could take him home. By then Ymerc and the others had fallen asleep, so I picked him up and took off."

The best lies always have a little bit of truth sprinkled in.

Rage flitted across Xithris's eyes.

Anirin knew well the power of Ymithia and Cyndrithil. They were amongst the more powerful dragons when it came to fighting dark sorcery. He sent his white-scaled spy to watch them as they fought.

Anirin knew one day he would have to face Ymithia and Cyndrithil. He knew their personalities better than they knew themselves.

"Those stupid..." the rest of Xithris words were cut off as a strong breeze blew past.

When the wind stopped, the rage had left his eyes, he seemed the normal dragon Anirin had come to know over the years.

"I can take him. No need to burden yourself with their stupidity," Xithris replied, words strained through clenched jaws.

"No need. Really. Ymithia asked me to take Ymerc home. It would be wrong to hand him over to you when they are expecting me."

Anirin under no condition was about to let his prize be taken away. He had waited far too long for this.

"Knowing them, they aren't even back yet. They like to eradicate all traces of dark magic. It will likely be a few more hours before they get back. I will be in and out before they even head back," Xithris argued.

Xithris was getting on Anirin's nerves. He was just lucky he had been seen heading in the direction of their den.

"Really! It's no big deal!" Anirin insisted. "Let an elder take care of the clan for once. It's not often an elder like me gets to help out a youngster like Ymithia and her mate seeing as how old we are."

Anirin despised using that card, but it had gotten him out of trouble more times than he could count. Hopefully it would get him out of this too.

"I have a better idea," Xithris countered. "Why don't we both go. Two is better than one after all."

"I would prefer if I went alone. I am not one for being social after all. I am old."

Anirin made a note to torture Xithris in the coming future. There were only so many lies he could say before he grew panicked, and he was quickly reaching his limit.

To Anirin's relief, Xithris gave up.

"Very well. If you need anything, you know where I am.," Xithris said before flying away.

Finally.

Anirin figured he was far enough away from the Hatchlings' Den, so he rode a downdraft into the shadows of a mountain before teleporting home, a brief flash of light signaling his arrival.

Three motionless dragons sat in his den. A snap of his tail and they moved out of his way. These were the elders he controlled. A simple motion and he could tell them to do anything, albeit simple commands. For more complex commands, he had to specify with words.

During the day he commanded them to go about their normal business. At night they came back here where Anirin reinforced his spell over them.

"No need to get lazy now," he whispered in the moist air. The sound of falling water echoing through his den, a small stream running into a small pool in the back.

He wrapped Ymerc in fire-proof chains, using dark magic to lock them in place. This would prevent Ymerc from moving even a claw.

After that, Anirin teleported back, before flying back to the Hatchlings' Den. He was in charge after all of watching those putrid things. If he disappeared the same time Ymerc did, others would begin to question him, and he could not have that when victory was so close at hand when the seal was close to being removed.

To his relief, no hatchlings had moved since he left. And once again, he took his position in the dark alcove, watching over the sleeping hatchlings where nothing but the sound of a few snoring dragons could be heard.