by Sariah Skye
“You know, I wanted all this magic for so long, just so I could be like everyone else. Ha! The same magic is ruining us! All so we can fix their mistakes—Cyril’s mistakes! I’d give anything to give it back.”
Gabriel sighed. “I shouldn’t wish it away, but…I keep thinking had I not had this magic, my mother and sister might still be here.”
I gazed at him sympathetically. “All of this so we can save the realms,” I said in a small voice.
“Does Maxxus know about this part?” he asked.
“Not yet.” I sighed, defeated. “I don’t know how to tell him this.”
“Preferably, sometime when I’m not nearby. I saw what he did to that Kreegan.” Gabriel shuddered. “I don’t want my head bitten off—literally.”
I grimaced. “Yeah…that was gruesome.”
“Felt like I was watching The Walking Dead.” Gabriel cringed. “Well, at least I know it’s true—dragons will eat you, if pushed hard enough.”
Despite my sadness, I chuckled. “Told ya. For the record, I don’t think he’d bite your head off. It’s not your fault.”
“It’s also not yours,” Gabriel countered.
“No, it’s not.” I sighed, peering at my phone’s display on the nightstand. Maxxus had been gone a couple hours. “I suppose I should go find him…” I stood, aiming to go find him but Gabriel prompted me to sit down again.
“Just…give him time. As a guy, going through what I’ve gone through today, I would need a little…time,” Gabriel said. “I would be hesitant to leave my wife behind, but knowing she’s with family, it would give me a little bit of freedom to lose my shit before I had to come back and be a grown-up.”
I considered this. “If you say so.” I sighed, glancing around the quiet room. “What should we do?” I asked, with a sudden yawn that caught me off guard.
“You need some rest. Scoot over,” he said, and I slid over as he sat next to me on the bed, fluffing up the pillows behind me. “Lay down, and rest.” He patted his own shoulder, and urged me to rest my head. “Daniel should be back soon. Until then, just rest.”
I nodded slightly, gently resting my cheek against his shoulder, where I breathed in deep, inhaling him familiar, spicy scent. I smiled to myself, remembering our interlude weeks ago—felt like years by now—snuggling on the sofa, watching Harry Potter. His presence comforted me then, just as it comforted me now.
“Leorah!” The door to the chambers flung open—just as it always seemed to nowadays, annoyingly so—and Kiarra flung herself inside.
I groaned, lifting myself out of bed. Gabriel was still in the room, and at some point Daniel had joined us. They both sat, cross-legged at the end of the bed, quietly playing cards.
I grinned when I caught Gabriel’s eye. “You’re still here.”
He scoffed. “Where else would I be? You needed me.”
“Needed us,” Daniel corrected. I beamed at both of them.
“Yes yes, lovely sentiment,” Kiarra said dismissively of them, annoyed. “Leo, there’s a string of heavy earthquakes happening in Green Knoll. They can be felt as far as Ne’emire. There’s no apparent cause, but people are freaking out. There’s damage to nearby homes and some of the fields are cracking.”
I sat up a little straighter, taking a quick moment to rub the sleep out of my eyes. Stretching my arms over my head, I inquired, “Have you asked Maxxus about it? Earth is sort of his department.”
“We can’t find Maxxus,” Kiarra replied, rolling her eyes in frustration.
I raised an eyebrow. Her harsh expression fell. “I’m sorry, Leo. I know—” she trailed off, looking away. “I know, you must be sad, and…” she trailed off, stepping forward to embrace me.
I didn’t hug her back, but I allowed her the embrace, rapidly blinking to stop the tears from accumulating. After a moment, I shrugged out of her arms.
Kiarra, looking teary eyed, cleared her throat nervously. “They’re calling a quick meeting in the throne room, to discuss how to proceed. If it continues, Green Knoll should take some heavy damage.”
My forehead creased with thought. “Where did you say they were coming from—specifically? Any idea where they seem strongest?”
“I’m not sure, but one citizen reported a large crack in the earth that came from the area of the Royal River,” Kiarra explained.
I set my mouth in a firm line. “Royal River, huh?” I pushed by her and put on a pair of sneakers. I quickly tossed my messy hair into a ponytail and flung the nearest set of robes over my shoulders—a set of Maxxus’ warmest ones in forest green.
“Where are you going?” Gabriel asked, rising to his feet to follow me.
“I think I know what the cause of the earthquakes are,” I replied. “Going to see if I’m right.”
Kiarra looked at me strangely. “You’re not coming to the meeting?”
I shook my head. “Postpone it for a bit. If I’m right, I’ll find the king and solve the earthquake problem.”
“Maxxus?” she asked, confused. “But—”
“I’ll explain later,” I said, flippantly.
“I’ll come with you,” Gabriel offered, but I waved him off.
“I need to do this myself.”
Kiarra called after me again but I ignored her, quickly rushing down the dark hallway.
“Highness!” Donneghan called after me, as I trotted past him briskly. “Please—wait. I can’t let you go off by yourself!”
I turned to look at him sternly. “I really need to do this in private.”
“Your majesty—wherever you go, whatever you’re doing, I promise I’ll keep the secret,” he replied, unnerved.
I paused to grumble briefly. “Oh, fine. But you have to swear—swear—that where we go you’ll never ever tell anyone about. Ever. Unless it’s life or death!”
Donneghan placed his hand over his heart, looking solemn. “I swear, highness.”
I nodded once. “Okay then. Follow me.” He followed me through the dim castle, out of the entry way into the early evening air. It was brisk, my breath steamed as I exhaled but it wasn’t unbearable.
“Do you need to use me for—um—” he stammered uncomfortably, as she shifted into his orange dragon form, lowering to his haunches to allow me to climb on.
I frowned quickly. He didn’t know. Of course he didn’t.
I just shook my head, patting my chest to assure myself the magical amulet was there, and I clenched my eyes, willing the shift.
I felt a pang in my stomach at the familiar pulling and tugging of my limbs as I shifted into my pink dragon form.
She really was gone, I thought to myself with despair. If she was still here—by some miracle—I wouldn’t have been able to shift. My head and eyes drooped, down towards the ground. It was next to impossible to cry in dragon form, but I did feel the sting on my eyes where tears would be, if they could form.
“Your Majesty?” Donneghan interrupted my moment of remembrance.
My head snapped up. “What? It’s nothing. Just…follow me.”
Donneghan appeared unconvinced—even in his dragon form—but he said nothing further as I stretched out my glass-like wings, angling them just so to catch the breeze as I kicked off, becoming airborne.
I heard the orange dragon kick off behind me, and he gave me a skeptic look as we flew in tandem, but he did not question me—thankfully. At least, about the flying.
“Where to?” Was all he asked.
“Just follow me,” I requested simply, and with a jerk of his neck, he paused in the air, allowing me to lead.
We flew over the tree tops—pines, birch, several species I never knew the names to—into the night. The sky was clear, the stars smeared across the inky backdrop as we flew away from the moon and into the finger of the milky way.
“Highness—look!” Donneghan called out to me. From over my shoulder I could see him hovering in mid-air, wings flapping steadily as he peered downward.
I followed his gaze, and we watched
as the tree tops shook violently, all of a sudden. Indiscriminate animal noises called out, and some of the smaller trees cracked under the pressure and thudded on the ground.
“Another earthquake!” I flew upwards sharply, peering over the forest, searching for the small river that separated the forest from a green field that rolled just so slightly: the knoll in the town of “Green Knoll”.
“What do you think is causing it?” Donneghan called to me.
My gaze followed the familiar tree line, until they landed on a small clearing near the river. I squinted slightly, noticing the small, wooden shack with the silver metallic roof. I swooped down a bit lower to witness the small cracks that jut out from around the shack and into the forest.
“I know what’s causing it,” I called back to him. “Follow me, but like I said—”
“Don’t worry. Hush, hush,” Donneghan replied.
I circled the small, secret building overhead, scanning the area. As I dipped lower, I could see Baron Gaster, pacing nearby in the forest, guarding Maxxus from anyone who would do him harm.
I landed on the clearing nearby him. He quickly spun around, hearing our feet touch the ground.
He had a sword drawn immediately, a glowering look upon his face but relented when he saw who it was. For a split second, he appeared surprised to see me, but he wiped all expression off his face, bowing down in my presence. “Your highness…”
I tried not to grumble at the title and greeting. Ignoring my resentment, I prompted him to stand. “Baron, you won’t tell anyone we’re here, will you?”
“Of course not,” Gaster replied. “That would go against the Guardian Code.”
“Guardian C—” I cut myself off, not really caring. Especially when I felt another rumble of earth from right under my feet. I raised my brow and turned for the shack, shifting back into my fully clothed, human self. I adjusted my robes over my shoulders and smoothed out my rumpled hair. “Remember—not a word!” I reminded them over my shoulder, before cautiously touching the worn, rusty chain that was used for a door pull.
I craned my ear to the door, listening inside, expecting to hear some sort of grumbling, or growling that Maxxus was known for. What I didn’t expect—what I never would have expected in a million years—was the sound of desperate, gasping sobbing.
I pulled my hand away from the door, quickly, feeling shameful; as if I heard something I wasn’t supposed to. I took a step back, and debated on what I wanted to do next.
Crying wasn’t something many dragons did. Hell, it wasn’t something humans did often—at least, according to TV, and Facebook and everything else I knew about humanity—not human males. Something about showing raw, open emotion somehow made them weak, vulnerable. And, that was not cool. Apparently.
Rubbish, of course. But this was the same attitude that looked down upon girliness sometimes, saw it as weak.
I snorted at the thought. Okay, I wasn’t physically strong. Emotionally though? Magically? Yeah, I could kick some butt. Violence didn’t make you anymore strong than crying made you weak; being true to yourself and your emotions—that made you a badass, in my book.
Still, I hesitated to push open the door to the shack. Our shack; Maxxus’ makeshift forge and my refuge from my cruel family, before our memories were restored. I hadn’t been here in years, and was surprised to see it was still standing, honestly. Though, it was crafted by Maxxus—chances are good it’d outlast a nuclear war with his magic. It was every bit my retreat as it was Maxxus’, but I still felt uneasy, interrupting him inside. He clearly wanted to be alone, or else he would haven’t gone to such lengths to do so.
I sighed, taking a step back. Perhaps it was best to leave him for awhile longer. Glancing up at the sky, and the height of the moon I guessed he’d been in here for hours, but if he had wanted to come home, surely, he would have. If he’d wanted to confide in me—be in my presence—he would have come home.
I felt a poke at my ankle. I looked down, seeing a dirtily-dressed, tiny humanoid tugging at the hem of my pants’ leg.
“Gleep?” I asked, barely recognizing the unkempt clothing.
The filthy face of the brownie looked upwards. “It’s me, your queenliness.”
I lowered myself down on both knees. “What are you doing here?”
“Brownies guard the building while you and the green dragon were gone. Big green dragon offer for us to live here, and protect it, and to have any scraps we want so long as we keep big jerk dragons out,” Gleep replied, in his rudimentary, child-like speech.
I grinned from the side of my mouth. “Ah, I see. Well, thanks for doing that, we appreciate that.”
He gave a wide, sweeping bow. “It’s good for us to do so; we like. Green dragon come here often at night, work on metal things and just be alone sometime. But…I don’t think he want to be alone now.”
I cocked a brow. “And how do you know this?”
“Brownies know how hard it is to lose a family member. We get sick often, and babies don’t live long. It break hearts, but we get through it together.” Gleep hung his head, his little mouth bent in a deep frown.
I felt a wash of sympathy inside. “I’m sorry…that must be hard.”
He looked up once again. “Yes. It is. I know you were going to have a baby, and now you’re not. We very sorry to hear this.”
“Thanks, Gleep,” I said, touched by his words.
He shoved a hand in one of his torn pants pockets, and pulled out something that he held in his hand. “When parents lose a child—either before it sees the light, or any time after—we offer some sort of gift to remember them by. We have not much to suit a powerful dragon, but we found this sparkle stone that reminded us of you.” He held open his hand, and produced a dirty, uncut, rough stone, barely bigger than a pebble. “We want you to have this, for being so kind to us, always.”
I offered him my hand, and he turned his over, allowing the tiny stone to fall into my palm. In the starlight, it twinkled slightly with a pink hue. A slow smile spreads across my face. “Thank you, I will treasure it always.”
Gleep nodded. “You should go in there. He is…very sad. He shouldn’t be alone.”
I sighed, looking away so he couldn’t see my troubled expression. “It’s not quite that simple, Gleep. Sometimes, dragons want to be alone.”
He shook his head, vehemently. “No one want to be alone, pink dragon. Only people think they do, until they are not.” With his small shoulder, he nudged my ankle. “Go.”
I squeezed the tiny, cold stone in my hand and thrust it into my pocket. “Thanks, Gleep.” I reached down to pat him gently on the head, which he accepted with a cheesy grin. I had no more turned away then he had darted off for the forest, fast as lightning.
I stepped towards the door once more, and, listening for sounds of crying inside, slowly opened it, peeking my head in.
“Maxx?” I asked, voice quiet.
My mouth fell open as I quietly stepped inside, in awe.
I hadn’t been in here for years, but it wasn’t anything like I remembered. Once upon a time, it was little more than a dirty room, with ramshackle, rusty walls, a stone slap and crude firepit Maxxus used for forging; and one lone, feather cushion in the corner where I always sat as he worked, quietly reading my books, waiting for him to inevitably injure himself so I could heal him.
The dingy room had been completely transformed into a beautiful nursery, fit for a princess.
My breath jammed in my throat as I looked over the pale green walls, the once-dirt floor covered with shiny white tiles, and various rugs. Along the wall was a tiny, wooden cradle on four feet, colored pink, with plush white bedding inside. Over it, hung an intricate mobile, which spun all sorts of multi-colored crystals that caught the moonlight in the room’s only small window and painted rainbows on the opposite wall.
Nearby, was a puffy cushion, covered with a fluffy gray blanket and white pillows, big enough to be a full-sized bed, next to a simple, blonde-wooden nightst
and with a black oil lamp sitting on top.
I stared in awe at the transformed room, taking everything in and feeling overwhelmed.
This must be where he disappeared to at night, or whenever I couldn’t find him. He was working on this room the entire time.
The tears openly fell from my eyes as I watched Maxxus, sitting in a wooden rocking chair, muttering to himself quietly. I didn’t think he realized I was here until I heard a bitter sounding “Surprise” that interrupted the silence.
“What—what did you do?” My voice trembled and I covered my mouth with my hands, so my sadness wouldn’t betray me.
Not bothering to look back, he just rocked back and forth in the chair, speaking quietly. “This was where we were going to be, until the baby was born. Finnian and Link would hold their time-stopping spells, with the help of the brownies until a few weeks after you delivered, giving us enough time together. It had to be a small space, hidden from everyone and I could think of no place better than this,” Maxxus explained, his voice bland. Slowly, he rose to his feet. I noticed he was shirtless for the first time, his skin covered in various streaks of colored paint when he turned around to look at me.
I gasped at his disheveled appearance. Even sweaty and filthy from the forge, he never appeared this messy. His blue eyes were swollen and bloodshot, his hair was matted and spiked around his head and his cheeks mottled with redness and tearstains.
“Maxxus…” I said quietly, stepping towards him slowly.
He took a step back, turning around. His arms wrapped around his upper body as he held off the shivers that wracked his body.
“I’m sorry, Leo…I failed you,” he spoke in a quiet tone.
“Failed me?” I narrowed my eyes, stomping towards him. I attempted to touch his arm, but he jerked himself away. “How did you fail me?”
“Kreegan. I should have known he was going to do that. If Gabriel hadn’t been as fast as he was…” Maxxus voice shook. “All the stress you were under…there is no reason else why the baby should have been lost.”
I sighed, crestfallen. I flung myself on the surprisingly comfortable bed in a pout. “No, Maxxus. It’s more like, I failed you.”