Calira paced rapidly between two pillars in the Grand Hall, his steel-bottom boots scuffing the shining floor as he did so. His mind was racing; his father was late. He knew he would do this on purpose just to worry him old and gray. Though he wished words with his father, Calira secretly never wanted this day to come. Every meeting with the old bastard ended in one of two ways. A fight of words ending in Ramsra striking Calira, or on one of the better days, a look of pure hatred toward him followed by his father's absence. He had always tried to please his dad. But for some reason, he just simply never could. From the time of hatching, his father had given him the cold shoulder. He wondered when Ramsra would arrive. When his wrath would be brought down upon his head for no reason at all.
The Dark King made his way to the grand hall window, gazing upward to at last view his father. To his surprise, they had arrived by flight, despite the universal laws of the land. They would come any moment, and here he stood dressed in the clothes of men, hiding his scales in shame. The time had come to shed the illusion and embrace who he was. Like a storm cracking above head, his bones began to snap and shift. His hair growing longer as his body began to take on an amber glow. It was the magic of his people, the blessing of the Frostfire breed. Like their makers, they could take the form of another. And much like their forefather, Incendartou, their clan favored the shape of humans. It was a long and beautiful transformation; one that began with fire and ended in the reformation of the ashes left in its wake. Lord Draconvieh was a foul tempered and stately dragon. He stood nearly ninety feet tall with a wingspan of over two thousand feet. Calira was a being as dark and radiant as stygian silk. His body laid adorned in a speckled coat of scales, that held Ruby pigments that could rival the precious stone itself. Unlike his cousins and siblings, Calira had been born with the touch of Incendartou, or so it was believed. He made way to the vast open area of his land, his father and brother-in-marriage coming to land gracefully before him.
Laxrindren looked upward to see Calira approaching them. Geysers erupted as Calira walked, seemingly blasting the air with each of his footsteps. This was indeed his element, one the two Arctic rulers did not enjoy. Laxrindren studied his brother— the way he walked, how he carried himself, how he clearly got enjoyment from his joyless and murky territory. He had a very soulless and demonic air to him. He was nothing like the breed that claimed them, yet they all shared the same blood. Laxrindren wondered how and why he had become so utterly cold.
"Brother, how wonderful it is to see you." Spoke Laxrindren, his head coming to bow low in respect to his elder brother in marriage. "Oh, yes it is, such a joyous occasion. I have been looking forward to it all morning." Caliras voice was filled with sarcasm. He rolled his eyes, a low and tired growl coming to slither from his throat. Ramsra stepped forth before Laxrindren, his tone bitter and scornful. "I see your home remains the largest eyesore in Evernia. But perhaps you would not notice seeing as you prefer to live in filth."
"Father! How rude, let us not forget it was you who placed him here. He only has so much to work with. Not even you could form a diamond from dirt." Talon felt it was important to defend Calira, despite their stressed relationship. He gave him an apologetic look and came to silence himself. "Oh, little brother, pay no mind to father and his acid tongue. If he did not have me to throw stones at, he would have no way to validate himself." Calira cut his eyes, his body moving to slither past his father. "So what brings you both here, hmm? Come to tell me of yet another victory won without every Kingdom? Or have you simply come to aggravate me to no end?" Calira turned his back to them and sat upon a large boulder. He curled his tail around it tightly and crossed his forelegs before him. With a clear of his throat, he placed his head upon his talons. "No, Calira. We have come to warn you of a brewing war."
The Dark King rose his head and raised one scaled ridge. "Oh father, I feel so treasured. In the case of war, I knew you would wish me dead. Or perhaps even go so far as to use my body as bait to fulfill your victory." "Oh Calira, trust I did not come here on my own accord. If not due to your sister's kindness I would have indeed let you perish in the Black Death." "Ahh, so I was correct in my assumptions. You would indeed let me die in a war but not a natural disaster. Once more I can feel the weight of your undying love upon me."
Laxrindren looked toward their father and shook his head. "Brother, please excuse father. He is quite stressed and only needs rest." "Oh my poor simpleton of a brother, all the relaxation in this world could not cure father of his callousness. After all, he is an ancient. You're how old father? Seven hundred thirty-five, am I correct?"
Ramsra nodded. "And seeing as I have lived three hundred eighty years, that would make me an elder. I know who and what my father is, Laxrindren. Do not forget, I am a great deal older than you. And for the last three hundred eighty years, our father has remained malicious. If almost a millennium of slumber has not come to melt his frozen heart, nothing ever will."
Laxrindren looked to his father wondering if Ramsra took heed to his eldest son's words. But in truth, even the Arctic King knew Ramsra would never understand Calira's point of view. "You have a very unique choice of words, my son. I find it funny how you point your judgment toward my heart." "Oh? Why? Are the words I have spoken false?" Calira locked eyes with his father. "That you have, my son. But perhaps you should bring light toward your heart as well."
"Oh, yes. My heart may be filled with the same ice that surrounds you, but I keep to myself. I do not go about pressing my rage and regrets on others." "Oh, but you do, my son, your loving wife, Alexandria feels the weight of your grief every day. Do you think we have not heard of her beatings and cries for help?" Ramsra walked towards his son. His vast and expressive facial crest rattling. "Oh father, she deserves every beating she receives. The nerve of you, you old lizard. Coming into my territory pressing judgment upon me for your stupidity. You forced me to marry a dragoness I had no interest in. You sacrificed my life and my happiness to save your own ass. You should give me far more respect than you do, if not for me your head would rest upon a spike. I am entirely sure the ruler's of Emerald Isle are more than eager to collect the debt you owe them. Whatever treatment Alexandria receives, she has you to thank."
The Queen walked out from the smoke, her dark body moving with the slightest of ease. "Greetings, your Majesty." She spoke, offering the back of her neck in respect. Laxrindren walked towards her bowing his in return. "Brightest greetings to you, Lady Alex. I see you have unleashed your real beauty this day." "That I have. I was wondering where my faithful husband had wandered off to. I came searching for him and found his family as well." Alex offered her neck to the Emperor.
"And how do you fare, father?" Ramsra gave his son a displeased look before facing his daughter in marriage. "I am well my dear, gratitude for your concern." Feeling ignored, Calira stepped directly before his father. He allowed his sharpened teeth to catch the red glow of the land before speaking. "So, as you were saying, that bitch I call a sister sent you here?"
With those words spoken, Laxrindren turned and growled, "Do not speak of my wife in such a way. She cares for you deeply, and yet you mistreat her. I will not stand for such cruel words toward she who defends you." Calira shifted his glossy copper eyes to grasp at his brother's features. "While in my lands, I will speak of whomever in whatever way I please, mind your place Talon." The white dragon stepped before Calira. "Enough. I will not stand here and allow such hateful words to be spoken."
Alexandria stepped aside, her eyes growing with the gleam of shock. She had come to know his tone well and within that moment, she did not wish to feel his wrath. The tension grew around them, and soon four guards came into view. The roaring of their King had alerted their presence, and now they were ready to battle. All wore silver armor upon their chests and heads. They were large dragons, but their sizes did not match the Dark King's.
"Such words you say, dear brother? You come into my land after the projected time given, and now wish me to lick shit from your ass. I am so terribly sorry to bring to your attention that last I checked, you stood upon my soil. My sister is my blood. I will address her as I see fit. I was the one who grew to age alongside her. You merely take her to your bed."
A deep snarl came to rattle in the back of Talon's throat. "If you wish us to take leave of your home, all you must do is ask us to cease. But know brother, if that is your wish, we shall not return even when the darkness comes to consume your area of this planet." Ramsra hissed; his fire bladder beginning to fill. He wanted a taste of blood upon his tongue. "Let us leave this fool to his brood of misfit hatchlings," the elder dragon spoke, moving to press his son away from their host. "If he shall not join us, he deserves to perish in whatever may lie stalking within the clouds."
Talon gave his father a tilt of his head. He could understand his frustration but to wish death upon your own blood was against their principles. "Know that if I come to perish, I will drag your pride and joy down to Drathell with me. Could you fathom it, Ramsra, knowing she had come to die while you yet clung to your meaningless life? Your legacy is buried so far beneath your spineless fear and betrayals of blood. What pride could such a daughter as her hold for you? She was spit from the loins of a beast, not a dragon. One of which is a disgrace to the name of our breed and our clan. Did you ever once believe that would come to pass father? That your young daughter so blessed to be statuesque, would feel the shame of her beginnings? It is no wonder why my mother chose to mate with a low-born peasant rather than feel your touch."
Ramsra was overtaken by rage and feared his son's words may be true. But just as he moved forth to speak, the young Talon had come to land a bite to Calira's snout. He stepped back in shock as he watched the pair begin to brawl. It was not an easy scene to spectate, the bright glow of blood upon platinum scales was far from enthralling. The two brothers were tearing at each other as if they shared no connection at all. The burn of anger and testosterone fueled them to fight as hard as they could muster. Blood began to rain upon the dry, cracked grounds of Dread, most of which belonged to its Master. Talon had come to take hold of the right ulna of his foe, his strong jaws breaking it in two. His hold did not release. Instead, it deepened, leaving Calira's flexors as no more than mangled tissue. The screech of pain birthed from his lungs carried for miles. Talon leaving himself vulnerable suffered the piercing heat of sharpened fangs embedding deeply into his neck. When the bite disconnected both scale and flesh had gone missing. The pain overtook him, and thus, at last, he released his brother. The two took a moment to size each other up before once more charging in.
The clash connected with a boom that shook the very ground beneath them. The onlookers were stunned such feuding was frowned upon by Frostfire hierarchy. But their King had been within his rights to defend what little he had. Alexandria stood watching on; her mind torn between who she wished to emerge victorious. The shaking of the ground and the thundering roars of two bull dragons battling tore the three witches from the confinement of the castle walls. Tonisa stood at the very front, she had come to study her mate's injuries. He had been gravely wounded. If not for his rank within the land, surely his battle scars would guarantee death. Like the others, she stood watching but not in fear or astonishment. She felt deep within a sense of pride. This was the beginning of her stratagem to overwhelm her foe. They had not come to draw first blood but in time, the blood they came to take would be the only that mattered.
The ground sunk beneath the dance of death the brothers performed. The somber Drake managed to collide his tail with that of his brother's temple. Laxrindren fell heavily onto the ground; his eyesight now swimming in a blur of double vision. His limbs grew weak and no matter how he willed them to stand, they would not heed his command. A veil of darkness came to hover over him, the stench of blood filling his flared nostrils. He had been bested in a moment of hesitation. Calira came to step upon his shoulder; his darkened talons pressing firmly into his body. Though he stood victorious, he was not without wounds. Gashes, broken bones, and shredded muscle were his proper trophies. His wing drug heavily beside his massive body, a pool of his life force trailing behind him with every step he came to make. He leaned down allowing his long and steaming tongue to run over his brother's jaw.
"It is a shame your sires did not train you in the acts of battle. It is not the weight nor the weapons you may obtain that make you a warrior, brother. It is your stamina, the amount of pain you can muster, the weight you can carry before you strike back. So I say to you now, rise and fight me or I shall send your corpse to my bitch of a sister roasted in my flame and marked by my talons."
All present looked to the sky as an orb of white wrapped in a seal of ice blue came to break the sky. The clouds had given birth to it and like a comet, it came hurling for the ground. "Calira!" Alexandria screamed her snout pointing towards the sky. Tonisa pressed forward chanting words of protection. "Dia artum veatia."
Calira turned to view his wife, and then shifted to look within the orb as it came to pulverize him. The blow carried such force it knocked him free of the fallen Talon and left him to rest nearly sixty feet backward. Tonisa fell as well the small charm splitting the force between both her and Draconvieh. The King laid unmoving his face burned with the pain of frostbite. Particles of ice began to creep over his snout and head of the caster now coming into view. With a final flap of her wings, Hexonia at last came to land swiftly upon the soil. She stood as passive as her mate, yet the loss of one she was tied to for life would not be overlooked. She made her way over to her husband as did Alexandria. Ramsra walked over to the pair and lifted his son in marriage's head with his snout. He was unresponsive, seemingly dead. Hexonia turned to gaze upon her brother so frozen within the dust.
"What more shall you do to see this family fall apart, Calira!" She yelled her wings moved to cling to her sides as she took a step forward. "We are all each other has anymore when will you come to open your eyes and gaze upon such truths! You must let the past go and see our energy turn to something greater. Like our future, our survival here, even if we forever stand divided."
"Come, daughter. Leave him to his men, and let us see the true King home. He is weak and in need of tending, we can waste no further time here." With his final words, Ramsra took his son onto his back. "Come. It will be a long flight home," he said moving to pick up his pace before his wings spread, and he lifted from the ground. Hexonia looked to her brother a final time before departing.
"I have always loved you, Lira, and I shall, until my last breath. When will you gather the courage to love me back?" Her voice had fled from its angered tone and had evolved into that of hurt. She had never wished to strike her eldest brother, but she had been left no choice. Even still, it hurt her heart to know she had to take such drastic measures. She flew off into the darkness a song of wailing falling into the passing wind.
Tonisa had come to gather her faculties, making way towards the fallen King. Her small hands ran over his injuries, the thickness of the clotting blood overwhelming. The bone had come split the flesh of his wing, leaving it jagged and splintered. It would be a long recovery for him and a very challenging duty for her.
"Will he be all right...?" the Queen asked sadly, her nose moving to nuzzle his. "Yes, he will be fine. But in order for me to aid him, you must stay out of my way. Have the guards see him inside. I will gather my tools and meet them within the Grand Hall."
"Of course," she replied, giving the command. Four guards came to lift the King from the ground; their bodies holding him upward as they moved for the back of the castle. Tonisa followed them leaving Alexandria standing alone.
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