Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Vella looked in front of her dumbstruck. Dracyr was certainly beautiful, but what struck her most was that there was something otherworldly about her. There was a soft purple glow around her entire being. Her dark black hair curled around her, sliding off her shoulders in thick loops. Somehow each twist of hair was perfectly together, with no stray hairs or out-of-place pieces, and somehow they all fell in a perfectly symmetrical fashion. She wore a white dress that made her flawless olive skin stand out. What struck Vella most though were her eyes. As Vella attempted to follow Aren into the throne room Dracyr looked at her. Dracyr’s deep yellow eyes felt like they looked deep into Vella’s very core with a simple gaze.

Aren put his arm around Vella, realizing she had stopped in her tracks. “Don’t get swept up in the eyes kid, trust me, I’ve seen plenty o folks get lost there,” he said as he nudged Vella forward. “Nothin’ to worry bout,” he muttered, trying to reassure Vella. They walked forward, approaching the small steps to the throne, stopping at the last of them. Vella watched as Grayston sneered and glared at Aren. She’d originally thought Aren was exaggerating, but by now it seemed clear how much disdain Grayston had for him. He stared with an intense focus at Aren as if Vella wasn’t even in the room.

With a gentle wave of her hand, Dracyr began to speak, “Aren my dear friend, I am so glad to see you. It has been far too long since I have seen you, how have you been?” As she gently waved her hand her eyes darted over to Grayston, who dropped focus on Aren. Her words were spoken in such a deliberate manner with perfect enunciation that it seemed like she was speaking some different language than what Vella spoke.

Aren nervously ran his fingers through his hair, “Yeah, sorry bout that, been mighty busy at the stables you know. Been meaning to come around of course.” Vella grew uneasy watching Aren talk, he had always been such a confident outspoken man, and watching him nervously lie was uncomfortable. “I believe you know exactly why I’m here though,” he said trailing off.

“Yes, unfortunately, that is true,” She said. “I have been briefed, but I prefer to hear it from you, what exactly has transpired?”

“Your majesty,” Grayston interjected, “I don’t think we should be talking about such things with a stranger in our presence.” Finally, Grayston’s stony gaze turned on Vella. She felt a cold shiver run up her spine. “Why exactly is she here Aren?”

“Cause she needs to be Grayston,” Aren replied. The nervous tone in his voice disappeared when he spoke to Grayston. “This here is the dragon breeder I was tellin’ you bout. She’s the one who found Aegis.”

“I understand that much, but why is she here? There’s no need for her to be in the presence of the queen,” Grayston snapped.

“As usual you’re missing the big picture ya jerk,” Aren snapped back. “The wyvern found her, not the other way round.”

Grayston’s eyes narrowed as he readied another retort, but Dracyr stopped him. “Gentlemen, please cease. You are knights of the kingdom, there is no reason for the two of you to bicker like you do.” Aren relaxed his stance, letting his shoulder roll back down. Grayston looked away and let out a sigh. “Grayston, though you know much about the kingdom you know little of the world of dragons, this is Aren’s area of greater understanding. I trust his reasons for bringing this girl here.” Dracyr turned her gaze to Vella, “Now please child, tell us about what happened.”

Before Vella could think through her words she spoke, “I’m not a child, why does everyone always call me one!” As the last words spilled from her lips she froze, realizing who she’d just said it to. Aren turned and looked at her with wide eyes, stunned. Vella felt the color run from her cheeks and she felt sick to her stomach.

Dracyr looked at her, silent for a moment, and then began to laugh. “I am sorry miss, I should not have assumed. You are quite the bold person to speak to me like that. So I do not assume such things again I must ask, how old are you, my dear?”

Trying to hold back the contents of her stomach Vella mumbled out, “I’m twenty-five.”

“And by that, you are no child, I apologize Miss.” Dracyr stretched out a hand, “Would you please indulge me of one thing, come forward, place your hand in mine.” Grayston looked at Dracyr with surprise and Aren pushed Vella forwards. Vella put out her hand and placed it in Dracyr’s. Her hands were warm to the touch, but soft and smooth as though they’d never felt hard work. “Now look me in the eyes, my friend,” Dracyr said. Vella looked and felt a warmth wash over her body as she gazed into Dracyr’s eyes. They swirled with magic and images began to swim through Vella’s mind of different things in her life. With a bright flash, the images stopped. “And now I know you, my dear Vella. I will not make such assumptions with you again.”

Dracyr let go of Vella’s hand and she stared at her in confusion. “What in the world was that?” Vella asked.

“That was just a simple glimpse into your mind. I only looked for yesterday, so as to not gaze at anything private,” Dracyr replied. “It is a gift that I have as long as the other person is a willing participant in the exchange of information. You were wise to bring her to me Aren.”

Aren shrugged, “That means she can leave now?”

“Not yet my friend, we have much to discuss first,” Dracyr replied.

“Would any of you care to tell me exactly what is going on then?” Grayston asked.

“Miss Vella did not truly find the dragon. It found her. Wyverns when spooked return home, in this particular case the wyvern was spooked badly enough to return to its original home.”

“And why is that important?” Grayston asked, his frustration growing.

“Because as far as I know my family has never raised wyverns. We have records that go back a long time, this wyvern predates all of those,” Vella replied.

Grayston shot her a nasty look, “Fine, the beast returned to the farm it was hatched at, why does it matter where it went?”

“First, it matters because she brought the wyvern back rather than sell it and for that, I thank you deeply. The kingdom of Draeton owes you a debt Miss Vella,” Dracyr said. “The second part of why this is important is because of who the wyvern belongs to, it is Fenir’s.”

“I know that,” Grayston said angrily, “I still don’t understand why that matters, I doubt Fenir would be returning on his dragon.”

“Cause he’s dead,” Aren said.

Grayston’s glare softened and his eyes widened, “How do you know that?”

“That’s the only thing that could shock a wyvern like this,” Vella replied. “They have a deep spiritual link with any rider they claim as their own. The only thing that could shock a wyvern like this is the death of the rider.”

“I thought you said you hadn’t raised wyverns,” Grayston snapped.

“Just because I haven’t raised any doesn’t mean I don’t know about them,” Vella replied. “Any good dragon breeder knows about all the different breeds.”

“If you’d ever learned a darn thing about dragons you would know that, but that’s not the sort of stuff you learn in your safe little ring is it?” Aren said with a sneer.

Before Grayston could respond Dracyr did, “She is correct Grayston, this means Fenir is dead.”

Grayston put his hand to his temples, “That is bad news, very bad news.”

“It is indeed, but it is news we now must deal with,” Dracyr said with certainty. “Let us go through the information we know of the mission first.”

“My queen, I must protest, you already know what this dragon breeder knows, we shouldn’t be discussing this in front of her. I don’t even think we should be talking about this in front of him,” Grayston said pointing at Aren.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

Aren swatted Grayston’s hand out of the air, “Cut it out, I have every right to be a part of this that you do.”

Grayston turned to face Aren with his fists clenched. “Last I checked the Stablemaster wasn’t in the same rank as the general of the royal army. You’d be smart to mind your rank,” Grayston said losing his temper.

“And last time I checked the only reason you had that position is because I turned it down. Or have you forgotten that?” Aren tightened his right hand into a fist, “Need me to remind you why?”

“Cease this instant!” Dracyr bellowed out. Her normally calm demeanor was replaced with a stern resolution. The purple glow around her intensified as she spoke. “You are both members of the royal military and I will not tolerate this any further!” Both men dropped their fists and let go of each other. “We have more pressing issues than your petty arguments.”

“Fine,” The arguing men both grumbled as they stepped away from the other.

“Now, as I was trying to say before,” Dracyr said returning to her normal composure as the magical glow dimmed, “We need to go through the details of the mission and what happened. Vella, I have to ask, who else knows about this? I did not dig deep enough to see if you had told anyone else.”

“No one else knows,” Vella replied.

“You haven’t spoken to any relatives or friends since this wyvern showed up at your farm?” Dracyr asked.

“No,” Vella answered sadly, “I don’t have any relatives. My parents died from the blood plague when I was about fifteen, I’ve been alone running the farm since then.”

“Oh… I am so sorry to hear that Vella,” Dracyr began, “The whole of Draeton still feels the loss caused by the blood plague. I just needed to be sure that there weren’t going to be rumors flying around all of Draeton.”

“No, just me,” Vella said again glumly.

“So please explain the mission Grayston as I know you arranged it,” Dracyr said.

With a sigh and a rub of his temples Grayston began, “We had very reliable information that Emeria was planning something bad. Our source told us exactly how we would be able to get into the main keep of Sacrotia and where Emeria would be. All we would have to do is kill her and take the Bloodstone on her wrist.”

“And who exactly is this source?” Aren asked.

“That we will not reveal,” Dracyr said before Grayston could reply, “Both for your safety and theirs.”

“As I was saying, the source told us what to do, where to go, and when to strike. So we followed that plan. We got a band of mercenary knights to act as a distraction and we sent one of our own knights, our fastest and best, to handle the task, Fenir.”

“But he didn’t succeed,” Aren said.

“So it would appear,” Grayston replied. “Fenir was the most capable knight I have ever seen. He was swift, precise with any number of blades, and able to avoid detection masterfully. Clearly though he did not succeed.”

“Is there any way this could be drawn back to us?” Dracyr asked.

“Not likely,” Grayston said. “Fenir was a loyal knight, he would sooner die than betray his kingdom. We made sure his dragon had now emblems or anything that would tie him clearly to Draeton.”

“That is comforting at least,” Dracyr said.

“So what exactly is this threat though?” Aren asked. “I already knew all that bout the mission but no one ever told me what she was plottin’ to do.”

“That we do not know,” Dracyr said. “Even our source of information is not fully sure of what she is planning to do.”

“Course they aren’t,” Aren grumbled. “Awful convenient for them, don’t ya think?”

“What are you implying Aren?” Grayston asked.

“You know exactly what I’m implyin’. This seems like you were baited into an act of war,” Aren replied.

“We have enough reason to trust that is not what happened,” Dracyr said.

“This is a big headache even if we don’t get blamed,” Aren said. “Best case is we have to try and cover up the loss of a well-known knight, worst case is an all-out war with a monster.”

“Unfortunately even I have to agree that he’s right,” Grayston said begrudgingly. “No matter what happens this is a problem and a big one at that. Fenir was known by the people of Draeton. His disappearance won’t be unnoticed.”

“That isn’t hard to fix,” Dracyr replied. “We simply spread word to the people that he is off on a journey as a political representative of Draeton. No one will question that if I am the source of this information. I will tell the people, you tell the troops and Aren spreads the word at the less reputable parts of the city.”

“I s’pose that will do,” Aren agreed. “That only covers up one problem though. How do we handle any sort of questioning or advance from Sacrotia? Presidia is the safest place on this continent, but that wouldn’t stop the Sacrotians from being able to raze everything outside of it.”

“We will have to hope that it does not come back to us, Emeria is savage, but I have never known her to be the most cunning,” Dracyr responded. “We can ready the troops though. Tell them that it is a drill, that way we are at least in a defensive position if the Sacrotians do march on us.”

“That still doesn’t solve anything about the rest of Draeton,” Aren interjected.

“Indeed it doesn’t. Unfortunately, Draeton is simply too large to protect properly if the Sacrotians want to invade. There is simply too much land to cover. We must focus on what we can protect the quickest and most efficiently and that is Presidia,” Dracyr said coldly.

Vella felt her stomach sink as she thought of her home, her farm, and her wyrms. All of it sat on the outskirts of Draeton, just near the border to Sacrotia. If the Sacrotian army marched they would go right through Vella’s farm. As if sensing Vella’s thoughts Dracyr focused back onto her. “But none of this can leave this room, you know that of course don’t you Vella?” Dracyr said.

Vella froze up, not sure how to respond. Her heart was racing, all she wanted to do was wake up from this bad dream of a day. Aren gave her a pat on the back that startled her. “Yes… yes of course my queen,” Vella finally sputtered out. Shaking out of her thoughts Vella realized she was missing a piece of the puzzle. “Actually, I have a question,” she said.

“What?” Grayston responded quickly with a snarl.

“Why did Fenir need this Bloodstone thing, if he killed her wouldn’t that be enough?” Vella asked.

For a brief moment, Vella saw a flicker of concern go over Dracyr’s face. “It is a symbol of the Sacrotian people, a symbol of the royal family. They worship it as a religious totem. If we were to attain it we would be able to topple the Sacrotian royalty.”

“So couldn’t he have just stolen it from her without killing her?” Vella asked.

“You would be smart to stop asking questions dragon breeder, you’re out of your depth,” Grayston replied.

“No Grayston, she has every right to know,” Dracyr replied. “She has become a part of this now.” Dracyr took a deep breath before she spoke again. “The stone isn’t something simple like a piece of jewelry. The Sacrotian ruler always has it bonded to their flesh. It is a part of them. So in order to take the stone he would have to have killed Emeria.” As Vella began to think this over Dracyr kept speaking. “As things are now we need to take some more time to evaluate our options. I will need the two of you to stay very close.”

“You know I’m only ever in the stables, I’ll be here if you need me. Can’t we let her go back though?” Aren asked.

“You do not understand me Stablemaster,” Dracyr said. Aren seemed to realize the severity of her tone when he was called by his title. “You two will be staying in the castle until we determine our next move. I will have a room prepared for you.” Dracyr ran a finger along the edge of the throne and a hum of magic followed. A small shimmering image appeared in front of her picturing a royal servant. “Prepare two rooms please, I will have guests.” As she finished speaking the servant nodded and the image disappeared.

“You can’t be serious,” Aren pleaded, “She doesn’t need to stay here. We know everything she does now. You saw it all yourself.”

“Please Dracyr,” Vella begged, “I need to get back to my farm and my wyrms. I need to tend to them.”

Dracyr’s eyes narrowed as she grew more agitated. “You are not near familiar enough with me to call me by my first name like that Vella,” she said sternly. “You will stay as long as I see fit. I am your queen and you will not argue with me.” Vella felt a pressure in the air as Dracyr spoke. “I will send some soldiers to look after your wyrms, I’m sure they will do just fine.” Vella nodded weakly as she didn’t dare speak again. “Now leave the throne room, a servant will lead you two to your quarters,” Dracyr said as she waved a hand for them to leave.

Vella turned slowly and Aren walked next to her. They began to walk across the purple carpet as Aren spoke. “Brave of you to try and argue with Dracyr, stupid for sure, but brave I guess,” he said quietly enough that only Vella heard him. “Much as I want to argue for you to leave I know better than to do that. Dracyr is a stubborn one, smart as they come but if her mind is made you can’t change it for the world, trust me.” He gave Vella a pat on the back to try and calm her down. “Look at it as a vacation, you get to stay in a castle and be pampered for a day or two, that’s gotta be nicer than wrangling wyrms I figure.” Vella looked up at him with her face contorted with confusion and concern, her cheeks pink from frustration. “Ok, ok, I’ll back off.” The throne room felt endless to Vella as they walked, she could feel her heart pulsing with each step. Aren went quiet for a couple of moments as they walked before he spoke again, “Look, I’m sorry about all this. I really was hoping this would be done with. I figured Grayston would argue enough that you’d have to leave.”

“That only would have worked if you hadn’t argued with him,” Vella grumbled.

Aren ran his fingers through his hair, “Yeah, I s’pose you might be right on that. Sorry, that guy just gets under my skin worse than anyone I’ve ever met.”

Before Aren could say more there was a loud crackle of magic in the room. Both Vella and Aren turned to see a red flicker in the middle of the room. From across the room, Dracyr pointed to the nearest column to them, “Hide now!” she yelled. Aren and Vella both dove behind the pillar, barely peeking around the corner.

The red flicker began to pulse faster and faster. Stones from the floor shifted and pulled up into the red light, piecing together a shape. After a moment Vella could tell the stones were forming the shape of a person. As the last few stones ripped from their place Vella could see that they had formed a young girl. The red pulsing light began to hum around the stones and form an aura. After a moment the stone girl moved, walking toward the throne. With another step, the stone girl reached the steps to the throne and began to speak, “So my dear cousin, you thought it would be a good idea to send a knight to kill me?”

Aren leaned out further to get a clean look at the stone girl. As he heard her speak his whole body shivered and he began to break into a cold sweat, “Emeria,” he murmured.