Witherstone- Wings of My Legion

by Elizabeth Holland

  “Dylan?” I almost choked on his name. “I nearly forgot!”

  Mirabel gave an excited nod as she gleamed. “I know! I can’t wait to see him again.” I found it adorable how she started to blush. Twirling her hair in her fingertips, the pixie skipped ahead and turned around to walk backward. “You know, the Isle is pretty wild these days.”

  “Have you been?” Tristan asked her. All business.

  Mirabel nodded. “A few times. I used to go with a friend, but she’s not so nice lately.”

  “Sorry to hear that,” I offered.

  “It’s okay,” Mirabel shrugged as I looked up and noticed the cabin in the distance. “I stole her pet.”

  “You did what?” Bryn laughed.

  “Her little pet mouse,” Mirabel faced forward again and walked with less bounce. “Enchantresses are strange, you know,” she huffed.

  “Everyone is strange sometimes,” I sighed.

  “Very true,” Tristan agreed.

  “Erik said he’ll be here to take you home after his shopping,” Mirabel said. “I wish you luck on your journey,” she reached up and hugged me. A smile to Bryn and a slight bow to Tristan and she was prancing out to the woods, her airy pink skirt ruffling as she skipped.

  “She’s fun,” Bryn remarked with a flick of her brow.

  “She’s childish,” Tristan corrected as he stepped up to the porch and sat on the top stair.

  “Childish?” I asked him.

  Tristan glanced up to me and the sun caught his eye. Squinting, he made his opinion clear, “Pixies are child-like creatures who only want to play around.”

  “Yes, god-forbid you ever loosen up,” Bryn spat as she plopped onto the stair below Tristan.

  “Someone has to be focused,” his words hit plain as day. “Driven toward the end goal.”

  I was pulling off my sweater while I listened to their argument. Tristan was certainly a focused man. His goals had always pushed him toward doing whatever it was that helped his cause. Right now, that meant he was trying to help seal the stone of darkness away so others could never use its power. That helped me out a lot, to have a formidable, strong-willed person as an ally working to make my goals a reality. But for every bit of strength Tristan embodied, he had equally carried an air of stiffness to his personality. He was cold sometimes, cruel on occasion, and if you didn’t understand him, it made him angry, as if his time had been wasted.

  Leaning to the post of the railing, I let the air out of my lungs in a long, noisy exhale. Both Bryn and Tristan eyed me, ceasing their conversation at once.

  “Here, sit,” Tristan offered as he stood quick.

  “No, I’m fine,” I shifted my weight and let what little wind there was take my hair off my shoulders. It had grown a couple of inches since I first met Tristan. My bangs alone now extended past my collar. “I guess the time difference is starting to wear me out a little.”

  “When my mother was pregnant—at least, according to my dad—she refused to leave her home. Like, at all. That was when they lived in Florida, though. Our house was beautiful, out along the coast. I wouldn’t care to leave it either,” she grinned.

  “Florida? I bet that was nice,” I could almost imagine the ocean.

  “For a little while,” she told. “When my mom got summoned back to the castle, we packed and left it all behind. That was a long time ago, though.”

  “Um, how old are you?” I begged an answer. If I didn’t make sense of things fast, I’d get lost in the whole you’re now the parent of a magical child thing.

  Bryn laughed with her whole body; she even made Tristan chuckle.

  “What?” I smiled in anticipation.

  “Each realm is swayed by its own timeline,” Tristan spoke, again in that plain as day tone. “In Skye Sorn, the days are seven times faster than in the earthly realm.”

  “And Frostmoor is four times as fast,” Bryn added. I nodded along.

  “But, just like your transitioning, our bodies don’t take their full form until after… I don’t know, puberty, I guess you could call it,” Tristan’s lips pressed in thought.

  “Do you have a… transitioning?” For lack of a better word.

  Bryn stood and stretched her legs out. “Uh, not really,” she said while reaching out her arms over her head. “More like a culmination of magic.” She grunted and then sat back down. “Sorry, it’s been a while since I really let loose. I get restless sometimes,” she grinned.

  Let loose. Did she mean shape-shift?

  “Especially here near the woods,” she eyed the foliage. I had it in mind to ask her about the deer I saw the night Cole returned from Europe. I was almost positive it was her.

  “This culmination,” I ran my fingers through my hair as I tossed my head back. The breeze came again, and, now that the sun was behind a cloud, I nearly shivered. The scent of wild berries and pine came to my nose as I pictured the deepest parts of the woods. And Mirabel and her little mouse. I had to laugh.

  “What?” Bryn leaned forward with eyes wide with interest.

  “I just saw Mirabel,” I told them. “Out in the forest.”

  “Stuff like that,” Tristan leaned back and crossed his leg, “is what builds in us. From our infancy until the point of adulthood, our bodies are trying to prepare for the countless years of magic to come.”

  “So, like dragons, you age pretty much the same as mortals until you’re fully grown?” I gathered. They both nodded in agreement. “Then you had a pretty normal childhood here in the earthly realm,” I said to Bryn. She again agreed.

  “I, however, wasn’t allowed to come here until I was a teenager,” Tristan added, again squinting.

  “Why do you think the realms differ?” I asked.

  “Well, I know why,” Tristan informed. “It took the Yester Yew seven days to grow and reach the heavens,” Tristan spoke, again in his plain as day tone. “Permeating the then-unknown realm of the future faeries. The Grand Maple, on the other hand, grew in four.”

  “Is that the tree outside the Manor House?” I eagerly asked.

  Tristan nodded.

  “Do you use essence when you’re a full-blooded faerie child?” I wanted to know more, everything.

  “When away from the sun, yes,” Bryn explained. “But that’s why the royal family isn’t allowed to leave until they’ve mastered the art.”

  “You’re part of the royal family,” I sort of corrected her.

  Bryn gave me a dimpled grin as her freckles caught the sunlight. “My mother left after I was born; she and Ronan didn’t get along.”

  “But that’s a story for another time,” Tristan leaned back on his elbows.

  I scrunched my nose and closed my eyes. “Do you guys think she’ll be alright here? In this realm?” I asked them as I glanced down and felt my belly. I was never a thin person like my sister. In the summertime, I could see her hip bones when she put on her bikini. I had curves, plump curves, but they suited me. My belly was never flat, it always had a little padding to it. Now, even though I was feeling her move more often, feeling the solid shape of her womb come to life, it wasn’t blatantly obvious I was pregnant. No one would tell me congrats just yet. And still, I wasn’t that far from having her.

  “Honestly,” Bryn gave me a solid, serious look, “if I were you, I’d just raise her in Frostmoor.” My eyes danced around at the grass before looking up to see Tristan and his curious gaze judging my reaction. I pulled my sweater up closer to my body and took a deep breath. “If I have children, I’ll probably return to Skye Sorn for their youth.”

  “Is it different, since you’re part mortal?” I wondered.

  Bryn shrugged. “Not really. I can go longer between needing sustenance, but I’m not as strong.”

  “That’s relative to the situation,” Tristan honorably corrected her. “Strength is not only physical.” Bryn smiled then, again showing her dimples.

  “What happens if I do raise her here?” I bit my lip. A goddess, in my hometown? Bryn made a
sour face. “Aside from the magic, it won’t be out of the ordinary. She’d be like me,” I finished with a shrug.

  “But there’s a chance she’ll be full-blooded,” Tristan informed. “Your dragon nature is strong, and Elliot, well,” he trailed as he raised a brow in thought.

  “Why would that matter?”

  “She might breathe fire,” he lifted his chin.

  Fire? I hadn’t given that a thought. Would she need to be a fire elemental in order to do so? Well, no. Actually, I watched my father breathe fire, and Elliot told me he could do the same. My baby, with her feathers of darkness and her eyes of watery waves, could indeed grow into a beast and breathe fire. And well, what type of dragon would she be anyway? Could she become a warrior like her father? A seer like me? Possibly a healer?

  Behind us came a beeping car horn. Before I could ask another question, I turned to see Erik pulling up to the cabin with a big smile on his face.

  “You could’ve gone inside,” he laughed as he got out. I don’t think we even thought about it. The conversation was too compelling, too captivating. Leaning on the car door, Erik waved us over. “Come on, we have a long drive home.”

  I had fallen asleep on Bryn’s shoulder, and she had fallen asleep leaning against Tristan. We were in the backseat of Erik’s little classic car as the sun was setting. I tried to keep my eyes open for as long as possible, but eventually, I just slouched in and let the last couple of days fade from my mind.

  “She’s growing stronger every day,” Sanne spoke to me as her heavenly world solidified into view. “I can almost feel her,” the woman spoke with big golden eyes that I couldn’t look away from. “How are you, Lady Irene,” she smiled to me.

  “I’m okay,” I nodded. She walked me to a little bench near a creek. We were in a town, possibly a part of Skye Sorn, maybe a place she created. The flowers and the grass were all so vibrant. Animals, insects, and birds were all so lively. Sitting down, I confessed, “I’m a little scared, though.”

  “That’s to be expected,” she looked out over the creek as she adjusted the long cloak that lay over her deep blue dress. “A lot is happening right now. You must stay strong, though,” she faced me with gleaming happiness in her expression. “The prophecy is nearly fulfilled, and then you may go on living the life you’ve always dreamed.”

  The life I had always dreamed. Really?

  “That life isn’t possible anymore,” I shook my head. The birds on the water caught my attention as they sang a delicate melody and flicked their wings from time to time. They were like ducks, but, of course, these were something entirely different. Dressed in wispy, angelic feathers of aquamarine and cream, the creatures were not as long-bodied as earthly ducks. Neither were their bills as slender or yellow, but instead a dark blue that matched the water.

  “Perhaps,” Sanne folded her hands in her lap and looked forward. “Perhaps what you want is something you have yet to admit to yourself.”

  I bit my lip in thought, but as I studied the horizon for clarity, Sanne’s world faded from my sight. I found myself bumping around in the backseat while Erik tried to drive down an old brick street. Why the town hadn’t replaced the bricks with pavement was beyond me.

  I sat up and fixed my sweater. The cool air of the dark evening had given me goosebumps. Tristan, though, in all his pride and statuesque posture, was laughing his heart out. Silently, probably to keep from being the center of attention, but laughing no less.

  “What?” I whispered to him. Bryn was still curled against him, sleeping like she hadn’t in days. Tristan, after a moment to catch his breath, handed me his phone. I didn’t even know he had a phone, but there it was. And on the screen, a text from Cole that read, Merry me at Caesar’s, I have the blond. I looked over to Tristan again and asked, “Huh?”

  “Keep scrolling,” he covered his mouth to laugh again.

  “What is it?” We had gotten Erik’s attention.

  I scrolled down and read more. Ugh. Meet me at Caesar’s. At CRESSA’s. damage phone, DAMN phone, I gave the blood, ending in a fail face. It was definitely hilarious, and just typical of Cole. I still had some of his old texts saved in my gallery for something to laugh at.

  I reread the message aloud for Erik to hear. His laughter woke Bryn, who then had to read the thing for herself.

  “I can’t believe he doesn’t read them before hitting send,” she handed the phone back to Tristan. “Classic Cole.”

  “True,” I lifted my brow. Cole. I hadn’t seen him too much as of late. Things had been crazy recently, and unlike in the past, I didn’t turn to him or to Lydia for support. I turned inward and relied on my dreamy version of Elliot to make the nightmares go away. And truly, all that did was increase Elliot’s own nightmares of darkness. I had felt isolated, but instead of reaching out, I withdrew further into my solitude.

  I missed my friends, though. A lot was happening with them all. A lot that I wasn’t aware of. Charlotte was off doing adventurous things with Caleb, which was a nice thought. She wouldn’t be herself if she didn’t have ten things planned out for her day. And Scarlet, obsessed as of late over the Greyharts and the Galdorvore. She was planning a ceremony to regain the magic of her bloodline. But Lucas seemed to like being mortal. And if Scarlet wanted her powers—her birthright—she’d need Lucas to agree.

  And Lydia. I had barely spoken to her. She was off spending a lot of time with Lucas, I knew that. But we hadn’t even texted each other in days. I wondered if Cole had asked her to keep her distance; I wondered if Cole even knew about the baby.

  “Your father will be there,” Erik pulled onto the winding road. “Julian, too, I think.”

  That was great news. I had missed them all, and after seeing Elliot, I really needed someone to talk to about the whole dark mist that was claiming our Lord. I slouched back in next to Bryn and closed my eyes while Erik went up the turns and through the woods.

  “Whoa, Irene,” Bryn jolted forward with a surprised look in her eyes. “Did you feel that?”

  “Well, yeah,” I said. “Did you?”

  “Doesn’t it hurt you when she moves like that?” Bryn’s gaze scanned my whole body. Tristan, intrigued, I suppose, leaned forward to do the same.

  I shrugged.

  “It’s just a normal kick, really,” I sort of laughed.

  Bryn lifted her hand just a little, twitching her fingers in curiosity, and I nodded for her to go ahead and feel. Slow, but eager, she bit her lip as her eyes narrowed. Finally, placing her hand on my belly, Bryn jolted back once more, full of laughter.

  “Oh my god!” she gasped.

  I could see Tristan wanted a turn now. I gave the okay and he reached around to feel. Just like Bryn, he jumped in joy from the unexpected strength of my daughter.

  According to Sanne and my aunt, she was going to be born at the end of spring. I found this hard to digest so I basically just went day to day. Growing a tiny creature—an oddly magical one, no less—was nothing short of epic. But in only four months? It was unfathomable. And how would the birth go anyway? I had definitely tried not to give that much thought. I knew dragons weren’t born with wings, but still… birthing a dragon couldn’t be easy. Right? Birthing anything was a, well, a labor!

  “She’s excited,” Erik turned around and grinned at me as we pulled into the driveway. My home. The place I would forever return to in my mind; a place of comfort and safety. And my aunt. Rushing out with her hands waving around in excitement, nearly falling down the stairs in her floor-length dress.

  “Irene!” she laughed as I stepped out and walked directly into her arms. “Look at her!” she eyed my belly. After she and I exchanged a few small words, I noticed Julian standing on the porch. He reminded me so much of Elliot it was almost painful. I went to him and gave him a slow hug, and I had to fight back the tears. There was something powerful about my legion, and about my dragon nature in relation to other creatures of Frostmoor. When I was around dragons, I felt like I was shielded from anything
and everything that could cause me pain or trouble. In the company of my dragons, I could relax and be me.

  “Hello, love,” my dad spoke from the doorframe.

  “Dad,” I said with another tear ready to fall. What was it about feeling loved that made me so emotional? In his arms, I put my head on his chest and let him hold me for a moment. Until I remembered my brother. “Where’s Dylan?”

  “It’s complicated,” my aunt spoke. We were all settled into the house, discussing the unbinding of my brother and Dune.

  “It’s easy,” Charlotte versed from the stairs. She was eating a cake pop with her legs stretched out over Caleb’s, who looked uncomfortable. “Don’t doubt yourself,” she raised a brow to our aunt.

  “And if it goes wrong?” Julian, arms crossed and shoulders stiff, eyed the coffee table with a sharp glare. We all were eyeing the table in curiosity. My aunt, Erik, and Charlotte had placed all the needed items onto the table for everyone to see.

  “It could kill him,” my aunt told.

  “Both of them,” I said, mostly as a guess, but when no one said otherwise, I realized it was the truth.

  “Why wake him at all?” Tristan spoke, his words cutting the room in half. Everyone had something to say. Charlotte erupted in rude comments about how royal men never cared for anyone but themselves. Bryn was quick to agree with Tristan, though, citing how the unbinding was too much of a danger to all of us. “Please! Please!” Tristan raised his voice to quiet the room. “What I meant was that, while having Dylan able to protect and defend, it isn’t worth his life. And,” he made his way around the room with a cautious glare, “the chances of waking Dune are too great. Besides, once the quelling is over, Dune will have nothing left to fight for.”

  “And then it’s safe?” I crossed my arms. “To wake him after you’ve taken everything from him?”

  Tristan sighed. “You don’t understand.”

  “No, I know that you are a strategic person, Tristan. I know that you try to do the best you can—the best for everyone—even if it causes pain to a few undeserving people.”

  “That isn’t fair,” he spoke through his teeth.