Dona emerged from the shadows and stepped into one of the more secure hallways of the Dragon Spire. She brushed a few strands of mane hair out of her eyes as she marched along. She kept going until she arrived at a silver doorway. She looked down both sides of the hall, to be sure that nobody was snooping around or following her. Once she was sure that the coast was clear, Dona knocked on the doorway.
A moment later, the door opened from the inside, and an aged shadow dragoness stepped into view.
"Good day, Lady Dona." Icarox said. She bowed her head and stepped back. "We were wondering when you'd get back."
"How is she?" Dona asked seriously.
"She's been napping for the last few hours." Icarox replied. Dona wanted to smile, but she held her serious face while standing before the elder. With a huff, she scooted past Icarox and entered the room.
The room she entered was a small one. Several floating red orbs of fire kept the room illuminated in the setting sunlight. The walls and floors were made of white marble, and a few windows on the eastern wall allowed sunlight to enter. A single, wooden shelf stood on the opposite wall, and was lined up with various toys and a few specially made books and tomes. A metal crib was placed in the far left corner of the chamber, and a large, playpen with raised walls was in the far right one. Dona approached the crib and looked at the small, white-hided dragon cub sleeping inside.
The cub was small: a little over three years old. She had a silver underbelly, and pinkish-white wing membranes. She had two large, short, and thick Silver horns on the back of her head, which bent upwards slightly. She had a wild, brown-colored mane, which fell downwards a short way behind her neck. A silvery blanket covered her body as she slept. A blue necklace hung around the cub's neck, which had a small amber stone with a butterfly frozen within.
Dona shut her eyes and sighed in relief; no matter how many times she looked at her daughter, it always felt like it was the first time she saw her. Dona leaned down to the sleeping cub and lightly nuzzled her forehead.
"Riven…" Dona whispered. "Mommy's here, Riven."
The cub shuffled around a bit in her sleep. After a moment, she rubbed her eyes with her little forepaws and sat up to look at Dona.
"Mommy…?" The cub asked, her yellow eyes going wide. Dona felt warmth in her heart as she nuzzled her daughter's head again.
"Here, let's get you out of that crib." Dona carefully scooped Riven out of her crib and carried her over to the bookshelf. She then relaxed on the floor and placed her daughter between her forelegs. She then looked over at Icarox, who stood cautiously by the door.
"You're dismissed." Dona said with a wave of her forepaw.
"You're welcome." Icarox said with a harrumph. She glanced down at the dragon cub with a frown, and then opened up her shadow to slip inside. The magical act made Riven flinch.
"Why doesn't she use the door, Mommy?" Riven asked.
"That's just a trick that shadow dragons can do, little one." Dona said. "Mommy does it all the time."
"Will I be able to do it someday?" Riven tilted her head.
"We'll see, Riven. We'll see."
Few others in the Dragon Spire knew about Riven's existence. Of course one of them was Elenar, to Dona's frustration. Who else but the high queen would be the most interested in the well-being of white dragons? Well, Elders Urobos, Argos and Icarox were some of the others. Some of the Deep Shadows were informed, too… but the one dragon who knew best of all was Riven's father.
Dona sighed. She rarely got to speak with Voden. For years he was the only dragon who could find his way through her frustrated and cold heart. Well… Dona supposed that changed. Especially with the way her daughter brushed her head against Dona's foreleg.
Dona used her magic to pull a large book from the bookshelf and placed it before herself. She then opened it up as Riven squeaked happily and curled up beside it.
"Can I read it this time, Mommy?" She asked.
"Of course, Riven." Dona smiled. The dragoness watched as the little cub began reading aloud from the book. Riven had a bit of trouble here and there, but was always enthusiastic about pronouncing the biggest and longest words loud and clear.
"My, you've come a long way in a short time, my little princess." Dona said. Riven's eyes beamed at that. She stood up and made a little post with her foreleg raised. She then walked around with her head held high, as if she were the most elegant princess in the land. Dona swelled with pride; she always loved seeing that kind of regality in her little girl.
"I've got some special news, Riven." Dona said as she lowered her head down to her daughter. "Your Daddy's going to be visiting again, soon."
The little cub's eyes lit up. "D-Daddy's coming?"
"He'll be here in a week or so." The dragoness smiled. Riven squeaked and hugged her mother's foreleg happily.
"I wanna show him what I can do, Mommy." She said with smile. But after a moment, her smile faded, and she frowned up at Dona. "Why doesn't Daddy live with us?"
Dona flinched. She sucked in a breath and patted Riven on the head. "Well… it's a little hard to say, my little princess. Your Daddy and I…" She looked out a window at the clouds in the sky. "We live different lives. He's needed where he lives, and I'm needed here."
Riven just tilted her head and pouted. Dona sighed; of course the little girl wouldn't understand. Dona ran her talons through Riven's hair and looked her in the eyes.
"But no matter how far away your Daddy is, he'll always love you. Just like me." Dona put on a smile and hugged her daughter. "So, remember to be on your best behavior when your Daddy's in town. Okay?"
"Okay, Mommy." Riven nodded her head.
Dona sighed and hugged her daughter again. It was good that she was able to share these moments with her daughter. If only she was allowed to take her little girl out of this room more often. Most days, Dona could never take Riven anywhere outside of restricted areas. She gave a little growl. Damn that Elenar; damn that coward. She struggled not to extend her talons and dig them into the floor; it was all because of that High Queen that Dona was forced to keep her daughter in hiding!
"Are you okay, Mommy?" Riven squeaked.
Dona blinked; she'd been growling the whole time. She gulped nervously and gave a little nuzzle to the dragonling's forehead. "Y-Yes, sweetie. Mommy's fine."
"Okay, Mommy." Riven hugged her mother again.
Dona hugged her daughter back… and struggled not to cry. She wasn't sure how much longer she could stand to wait for the scholar to return to Warfang again.
Voden… please come soon.
~~…~~
Rune and Cyrus walked calmly as they made their way down through the halls of the Dragon Spire. The halls weren't very full, and honestly that's how Rune liked it. Sometimes it felt good to get away from the near-constant hustle and bustle of the streets, or even when school hours were active. And yet no mater how casually he walked, he still felt in danger of tripping over the cape that adorned his back.
"Darn this thing…" Rune grimaced as he kicked his leg to get the cloth off of it. "How can you stand to walk in these things, Cy?"
"They seem fine to me." Cyrus shrugged. "They make us look cool, and regal, and all that stuff."
"But they're so itchy…" Rune sneered as he scratched his head with a wing-thumb. "And they feel so confining."
"Hey, we can still fly in them." Cyrus snorted and flapped his wings. "So I'm sure you can put up with them."
For emphasis, Cyrus took on a dramatic strut as he led the way down the hall. Rune just rolled his eyes; of course he'd like to show off in these clothes.
As the princes made their way down the halls, they passed by the occasional guard, soldier or scholar. All of them had the same reaction to the twins: they bowed their heads in supplication.
"Good day, Your Highnesses." They would say.
"And good day to you, too." Cyrus gave a wink.
"Yeah… hi…" Rune said awkwardly.
Most of the people the princes passed would end the conversation right there and be on their way. But there were always a few who would follow after Rune.
"Hey, Prince Rune!" A dragoness called from behind. Rune and Cyrus came to a stop and watched as Princess Sandra came trotting down the halls. Rune fell back onto his haunches and put on an uneasy smile.
"H-Hey there, Sandra." Rune nodded.
Sandra fluttered her eyes as she came to a stop. "I finally managed to give my annoying brother the slip. How was the trial, Rune?"
"Well, it was-"
"It was as gruesome as could be." Cyrus declared. He stepped in front of Sandra and flapped his wings. "You're lucky you weren't there; that cretin was perfectly happy killing an innocent hatchling."
Sandra's expression soured in quite a hurry. "Well… thank you for sharing, Prince Cyrus."
Cyrus fell back onto his own haunches and was about so speak again, but Sandra flapped her wings and stepped around him. She then promptly sat down beside Rune and fluttered her eyes again.
"You're not still busy for the day, are you?" She asked. "I was hoping we could get to the study group."
"Hmm…" Rune scratched his chin. He then groaned as his talons ran along his jewelry. "Not right now, Sandra. At least not until I get out of this stupid attire."
"Hmm, I could help with that." Sandra winked. Rune's face immediately flushed pink, and the princess laughed. "That was only a joke, Your Grace. I can be patient."
"You could always help with MINE, though." Cyrus raised an eye ridge and moved to Sandra's sighed. The princess immediately slapped him with an disgusted face. He fell back and rubbed his cheek. "Okay, Nevermind."
"Right…" Rune tried not to laugh as he turned to keep going. "Like I said, it can wait until later, Sandra. I'll see you later."
"See you then, Your Grace!" Sandra called after him. She then took off before Cyrus could make another sly remark. The shorter prince then just shrugged and followed after Rune; his own bedroom was the same way.
While Rune walked ahead, Cyrus stayed a few paces behind him. Time and again, the shorter prince would look at his brother, and then at himself. Despite having almost the same face, and the same horns, and the same magical glyphs… the differences were like night and day. Cyrus glowered, but he tried not to let Rune notice.
Eventually the two came to a split in the corridor; Rune turned left, and Cyrus turned right.
"I guess I'll see you later tonight." Cyrus sighed. "Until then, bye."
"Take care, Cy." Rune smiled at his brother. But Cyrus didn't look back; the shorter prince just flapped his wings and took off down the corridor. Rune just sighed and continued down his path.
Eventually, the prince arrived at the metal doorway that led to his bedchamber. A pair of guards, one a cheetah and the other a panther, stood on either side of it.
"Hello." Rune stated as he approached the door.
"Hello, your grace." The guards replied, both of them saluting.
"Right..." The young dragon pushed the door open and stepped inside as the two cats resumed their positions.
Once the door was shut tight, the prince wasted no time taking off every piece of elaborate clothing he wore. Especially that accursed cape. As he did this, he gazed around at the room.
The bedchamber was fancier thane the one he had in Glenhaven; not that he ever tried to spruce it up in such a way. The walls and floor were made of the same red stone as most of the other hallways of the temple. A large, silver-colored mattress was spread out over on the east side of the chamber. On the opposite side stood a large, wooden dresser with a large mirror placed upon it. On the far end of the chamber was a large pair of glass doors, which led to a balcony beyond.
A bookshelf and a small desk stood over in the corner of the room; with a big, thick tome entitled "The suffering of Annabelle" left open about halfway through sitting upon the desk. Various knick-knacks and sundries dotted the dresser and other shelves in the room, the most prominent being a small, Mahogany music box and a set of music crystals sitting upon the dresser: Gifts from Rune's foster brother Blankridge.
Eventually all Rune had to remove was a few pieces of jewelry, which he halfheartedly tossed onto his dresser. He then stretched out his legs and sighed in satisfaction.
So much better… He sighed. He spun around in a circle, wagging his tail and flapping his wings. It felt so good to be free from those cumbersome clothes…
And then his eyes fell upon the mirror in his room, showing him his back by chance. The prince came to a stop and grimaced as he looked at the series of scars running down his back. Rune felt his stomach churn and he then looked at the scars on his stomach; the biggest one being from the blade of a sword.
All these years later, and it never got any easier to look at all those scars. They were a gruesome reminder of the ordeal Rune put himself through four years ago. He'd nearly lost everything, including how own body. The fact that he was alive and sound of mine today… it was a miracle.
Rune sighed and looked away. "I shouldn't do that to myself." He forced himself to smile. "Things are better now."
Ever since Rune started living in Warfang for part of the year, he couldn't help but enjoy it. He had access to books from all the corners of the dragon realms. He frequently traveled around on business trips with the rest of the royal family. And best of all, he didn't have to hide his black scales behind a shroud of darkness anymore. He should have been happy.
And yet… there were still trade-offs. While living in Warfang, just about everyone he met bowed to him and called him "Your Highness" or "Your Grace," or whatever flowery title. It just never felt right; he was too used to being called just Rune by friends and family in Glenhaven.
Rune glared down at his elaborate princely attire. Those clothes were always so damn uncomfortable. Sure, he got it; it was expected of him to dress as was expected of someone of his title. But that didn't make the cape any less itchy, or that jewelry any less tight on his talons.
Then there was the final awkward issue of being a prince; the private lessons. Most of the time, Rune was able to attend classes with other students in the Dragon Spire. But every now and then, he was called away to deal with intense sessions with the Deep Shadows.
Magical training with Wraith, physical combat with Grail, leadership classes with Albanion… Rune slumped over and sighed. Sometimes it gets too grueling.
So many dragons expected so much of Rune. He was slightly older than Cyrus… and that meant he was in line for the throne some day. Preferably it wouldn't be for another thirteen years. But there was always the chance that something could happen to his mother Elenar… and that meant Rune had to be ready.
But I'm not ready… Rune frowned. Who could ever be ready to be a High King?
Rune winced and shook his head; he was letting himself get too worried again. He needed to relax; be positive. The prince glanced over at a calendar on the wall. He walked up, picked up a quill beside an inkblot, and started marking off a few days. He wrote down the date when Hontus and Voden would arrive in Warfang, as well as the date of a very special holiday.
It won't be long now… Rune smiled a bit. I can go back to Glenhaven and pretend that I'm not a prince, for a while. Maybe I can even enjoy the Day of the Bonds when it comes.
The Day of the Bonds was an ancient celebration that was held in almost every dragon city and settlement for hundreds of years. It fell out of practice during the war against Malefor, but came back into style after Spyro and Cynder saved the world. The holiday was about romance; young dragons of the proper age were encouraged to pair up and spend time together. Maybe they'd even come together romantically. Rune didn't have much of a reason to celebrate it in the past. But this year… well, something felt different.
Rune walked over to his bed and slumped down atop it. He rolled over onto his back and gazed up at the ceiling as he thought.
"I wonder who I'll celebrate it with…" Rune grimaced. "My options aren't exactly… expansive."
Rune sighed; he new plenty of dragonesses in Glenhaven, sure. But most of them behaved the same way around him; fawning over him for his princely status. Sure, he had a few true friends, but of course they weren't interested in him romantically. The only one he could think of that felt that sort of way about him was… was…
Rune sighed sadly. He rolled over onto his side; that wasn't a place he wanted to go. And as the prince relaxed, he heard a voice scoff at him from inside his head. The voice was his own… and yet it wasn't.
Wasting time thinking of her again, you hopeless romantic?
Rune glared. He sat up and grumbled irritably. "Runefor."
That was the name Rune had given to the presence that inhabited his mind. Four years ago, Malefor had taken possession of the prince's body and twisted it almost beyond repair. His father Baneth saved Rune from possession… but Malefor's influence wasn't completely stripped away. A presence still lingered, and lurked within Rune's mind all this time.
"What do YOU want?" Rune demanded. He stood up from the bed and walked over to look in the mirror. Sure enough, his reflection smirked at him even as he scowled, and its eyes were a sickly yellow.
"I'm just saying that you had your chance, and you blew it." Runefor said.
"It's not like I've grown to love her romantically." Rune sneered. "I just wish that she could have moved on by now, and we could go back to being friends."
"Well boo-fuckity-hoo." The reflection rolled his eyes and made a dramatic gesture with his forepaw. "Doesn't change the fact that you'll be spending that holiday all alone. Just like last year, and the year before that."
Rune could only growl; he still didn't understand how Runefor managed to manipulate his reflection the way he did.
"It doesn't have to be that way, you know." Runefor chided. "You could always just bring along your harem."
Rune flinched, and then scowled. "They're NOT a harem."
"Sure, keep telling yourself that." Runefor stuck his tongue out at Rune. "Oh, and by the way; you might want to consider bringing along that sword of yours. It'll prove useful, providing you're not so stupid that you've forgotten everything that Apella tried to teach you."
Rune glanced across the way at the sword scabbard that lay against the far wall. He snorted and looked back at his reflection.
"You know what? I don't have to take this." Rune declared. He opened up a drawer on his dresser and pulled out a piece of chalk. "I know how to get rid of you."
Runefor's eyes widened in surprise, and then anger. "You wouldn't dare."
Rune said nothing else. Instead, he opened another drawer and pulled out an old tome, which he placed on the dresser. He opened it up to where the bookmark was placed, and read over a few lines of text. The prince then turned around and started tracing glyphs on the stone floor.
"Stop it!" Runefor hissed.
Rune kept going until he'd made a complete circle of glyphs in the center of he bedroom. He then sat on his haunches in the center of the circle, shut his eyes, and began to concentrate. In response, Runefor began shouting a whole host of obscenities at Rune to distract him. But the prince hummed quietly and cleared his mind…
The world seemed to fade from existence around Rune as he opened his eyes. All lights and outside distracts were lost to the endless void. The only light source came from a series of candles with blue flames that appeared on the edge of the glyph circle. The only thing that didn't disappear was Runefor: Rune felt as though the wicked drake was looming just behind his back. And from the growling, it sounded like Runefor was getting ready to attack…
"Stop it, you." An elderly voice snapped. Runefor gasped and fell backward as Rune looked up to see a pair of emerald eyes. Runefor retreated farther and father, until he was barely present at all. Rune sighed in relief, and he smiled up at the glowing eyes.
"Hello, Lady Cynder."
Cynder had the same for that she always took in this spiritual realm; an elderly dragoness who looked no older than Urobos was currently. She wore the same silvery robes as she did in life, and sat back on her haunches as she appraised the prince.
"Good evening, Rune." Cynder smiled. She glanced over his head at where Runefor presumably cowered in a corner. "I see that your other half is as much of a nuisance as always."
"Right…" Rune sighed. "But he's not what I wanted to talk to you about, anyway…" He looked around at the void beyond the dragoness. "Where's Lord Spyro?"
"Spyro is… preoccupied." Cynder frowned. "Being a spirit who patrols the whole of the dragon realms is a tricky business, kiddo."
"I… I guess it would be…" Rune nodded.
This wasn't the first time Rune had spoken to Cynder via the circle of glyphs. It was a little something he learned from Urobos after they officially moved back to Warfang. Whenever Rune (or Cyrus) needed some advice from Lady Cynder, they could speak to her via these magical glyphs. Though for Rune, it served a second purpose; scaring Runefor away.
Cynder relaxed on the ground and swished her tail from side to side. "So, what can I do for you, little one?"
"I wanted to see if you knew anything about these white dragons." Rune said.
"White dragons?" Cynder pursed her lips. "What about them?"
"Well… a lot of them have been born recently." The prince adjusted his posture. "Mother's been trying to keep them as much of a secret as she can. A few of them have been…" Rune shuddered to say it out loud. "Well, the point is that Mother wants to protect as many as she can from the extremists."
"Hmm…" The black dragoness grimaced. "Any reason why you came to me about this, and didn't want to talk to her yourself?"
"I don't know…" Rune sighed. "Mother always seems so… uneasy when talking about white dragons. All I can figure out is that it has something to do with a white dragon who existed decades ago, before she was even born." Rune looked Cynder in the eyes. "Do you know anything about them?"
"Hmm…" Cynder leaned back and grumbled internally. "All that matters, Sunshine, is that the drake in question is trapped deep in the bowels of the underworld; it's unlikely that you'll ever have to worry about HIM."
"But who WAS he?" Rune demanded. "I never found anything in my history books about a white dragon who wreaked any havoc across the realms. But clearly something very bad happened years ago." Rune flapped his wings. "Why else would so many dark dragons be so paranoid about white dragons…?" Rune tuned his head to glare off into the darkness, where Runefor's eyes peered out. "And why else would I have to keep HIM a secret?"
Cynder just sighed and lowered her head to the ground. "If I give you some answers, you might not like it. Promise that you won't take your anger out on me, Sunshine."
"Fine, I won't." Rune said with a huff. "But I'd rather know SOMETHING, even if it makes me mad."
"Alright…" Cynder sucked in a breath and looked Rune in the eyes. "Many years ago, there was a white dragon born to the royal family of shadow dragons. He was named Runileon."
Rune flinched a bit. "Runileon?"
"You could say he was your great grandfather." Cynder continued. "I didn't know him very well; I rarely spoke with him during his early years…" Her ear frills drooped. "Before he began wreaking havoc across the realms."
"Why did he wreak havoc?" Rune demanded. "How was he stopped? And…" He dug his talons into the floor. "…Am I named after him?"
"There's a lot that even I don't know, Sunshine." Cynder snorted. "The point was that Runileon caused so much chaos and destruction in his lifetime that a stigma was forever after associated with white dragons afterwards." She flapped her wings. "Many dark dragons, especially the few surviving shadow dragons, never want to live in a world where a white dragon terrorizes them. And there's not much I can do to quell their fears, being a spirit and all."
Rune sighed; so this ancestor of his was responsible for destruction and chaos throughout the realms many years ago. So now, his mother Elenar was trying to protect young white hatchlings and dragonlings from dragons scared of an old superstition. At least his mother was being compassionate and caring for those younglings… But that didn't change the fact that Rune felt uneasy.
"I need to talk to Mother." Rune said aloud. "I need to ask her why she named me after a dragon that caused destruction."
"That may not be the case, Sunshine." Cynder replied. "A rune is a letter of the ancient draconic alphabet, often used for spells." The elderly dragoness smirked. "Perhaps your mother just thought you were pretty magical when you first hatched."
Rune sighed; Cynder was trying to cheer him up, and he could appreciate that. But still, he was unsatisfied.
"Is there anything else you can tell me, Cynder?" He looked her in the eyes. "Any warnings for the future, or words of wisdom."
"Well, I can tell you this…" She smirked back at the young dragon. "Be careful which dragoness you pick to be sweet on this year; make sure you pick one who loves you back."
Rune balked in surprise. Cynder gave a hearty laugh, and then rose up to step backward into the shadows.
"I've got to go now; I can hear Spyro calling for me." Cynder gave a wink. "Well, until we speak again, I'll be watching over you, Sunshine."
"Cynder, wait a minute." Rune insisted. "I wanted some REAL advice."
Cynder only gave a chuckle, and vanished into the darkness. Rune groaned in frustration and returned to his spot in the circle of glyphs. He heard Runefor growl and step forward as he shut his eyes. And when Rune opened them again, he was back in his bedchamber.
So, you bought yourself about a minute or two away from me. Good for you. Runefor mocked. Doesn't change the fact that I come right on back over to torment you!
And yet your bravado always goes away when I talk to her. Rune snorted. Runefor growled at him, but the prince just rolled his eyes and approached a door on the side of his room; he'd need a shower before going to his study group.
Rune was the descendant of a white dragon named Runileon. And yet, despite all the trouble that dragon caused, and the fear instilled into the hearts of shadow dragons in the decades since… Elenar STILL chose to name him, Rune, after this horrible drake. There had to be a reason. And Rune would find out what it was… after he'd taken his mind off of things by spending time with the study group. He could do for some relaxation… and some flattery.
~~…~~
The FTCHQ's massive ballroom was lavishly decorated for the special occasion.
The floor was covered in gilded hard tiles, most of which had various, intricate glyphs carved into them. The walls of the room were decorated in various red and gold streamers, and had the Faeshrine Trading Company's logo imprinted on them: A massive red phoenix rising out of a pile of ashes, with the letters FTC imprinted on its chest. An elaborate painting of President Bergan was hung on the far wall as a young dragon, when he first started his merchant business with a single wagon. The families of several of the FTC's senior partners were strung about the room as well.
Off to the side of the ball room, a small orchestra was playing a slow-moving track of music written by the late composer Vizarus-Bachus. Tyrrany sighed; she always loved listening to music crystals of that wind dragon's talent. The track was composed of base drums played at a rate of one beat per half-second, and a series of violins, tubs, and flutes provided a framework for a soothing waltz.
As the large crowd of dragons and non-dragons danced to the steady rhythm of the music, various attendants and busboys walked among the crowd, serving them various beverages and bite-sized meals. Flame was one of the attendants, offering around small glasses of red wine on a silver plate he held steadily by the edge with his maw. He was dressed in a small black vest, which had buttons on the front, a long zipper along the back, and various holes to allow his forelegs and wings to slip through. Arthur floated along right beside Flame, helping him with his assigned task.
"Care for a drink, ma'am?" The dragonfly asked a nearby lioness.
"Why thank you, young sir." The cat replied gratefully, accepting a small wine glass from Flame's tray.
"Mour Melcome." The Red dragon mumbled through the tray.
Even though Flame was the son of Vice President, Flame Sr (as some called him) didn't want his son to grow up thinking life would just hand him money and opportunity on a silver platter. So, Flamaedelus denied his son any access to the family's wealth for frivolous spending. The young drake had to work for the company like any servant and earn his own living. It wasn't exactly glamorous… but at least Flame got to be around Tyrrany.
As Flame and Arthur were busy handing out wine glasses, the heiress sat at the front of the Ball room.
Tyrrany was sitting alongside her father and the senior partners of the company, before a massive table decorated with a white cloth. Madam Nymph was also in attendance; she sat at the end of the table with her husband Hugo and son Rupert. The family of ice dragons mostly kept to themselves, as if waiting for the right moment to join in.
Also seated beside Bergan were Tyrrany's various brothers and sisters. Among them was Maggie, a ten-year old fire dragoness. There was also Kale, an ice dragon, and Destine, a pink-scaled fire dragoness; both of them were no more than six. They all eagerly ate from their plates or spoke with their father about how much fun they were having. The only one who was relatively quiet was Frederick. Tyrrany's golden-scaled half-brother sat at her side, gazing at her here and there with a frown. He tried to say something to Tyrrany, but the dragoness just ignored him and ate her meal in silence.
Bergan had been with several dragonesses after having his heart broken by Elenar: Tyrrany was well aware of that. Bergan wielded quite a bit of power; he could be with any he pleased. And he was always more than willing to raise the children he had from those unions…. Tyrrany loved her half-siblings, just about as much as any young dragon could care for family members… although it was difficult to remember that whenever one of the younger drakes threw mashed potatoes at her clothes.
Speaking of which, various fine foods and beverages were lined up along the table, reserves just for the highest-ranking members of the company. A similar table was placed alongside the west side of the ball room, for the other attendants to enjoy. Behind the main table was a massive map of the entire dragon realms, and a few of the seats at the main table were left vacant, for certain guests who had yet to arrive.
During the festivities, Bergan noticed that Tyrrany was looking directly down at the floor before her, picking halfheartedly at a leg of lamb upon her plate as she sat a short distance away from him.
"Is something the matter, Tyrrany?" The purple dragon asked.
"No, father." The dragoness stated coldly. "I'm content."
"You certainly don't seem content, dear."
"Well, I am." Tyrrany picked a piece of the lamb meat from the leg and popped it into her mouth, chewing slowly.
"Oh, come now." Bergan stated, half-scolding. "I'm no fool, Tyrrany. You're thinking about going to Warfang to confront your mother." He stood up, walked over, and draped a wing over her back. "You've no doubt been thinking on the subject since your training exercise ended."
After the dragoness swallowed her mouthful of food, she looked up into her father's eyes.
"Why won't you let me go, father?" She asked sadly. "I've been getting stronger every day for the last four years. I've dedicated countless hours to becoming a living weapon. And I've been doing it all so I could pay HER back for what she's done. Both to me, and you."
"Yes, yes..." Bergan commented. "You have become much more powerful than you once were. But no matter how strong you become, it doesn't change the fact that trying to get revenge on your mother will be an extremely dangerous task."
"But..." Tyrrany replied, tearing up a little. "I've wanted to do this for so long..."
Bergan placed a forepaw on her shoulder. Frederick tried to do the same, but the dragoness ignored her brother and looked at Bergan exclusively.
"Tyrrany, I know how badly you want this." He stated. "I never said that I denied your request to get your vengeance. What I did say was that I would think about it. All I'm asking is that you be patient, my dear. Do you understand me?"
"Yes, Father..." The dragoness answered solemnly.
Suddenly, the music stopped as a pair of unfamiliar trumpet blurts sounded out.
Over on the far end of the ball room, a pair of cheetahs had appeared, both of them on either side of a small congregation that had entered the chamber. When the trumpets stopped, one of the cheetahs spoke.
"Announcing the awaited arrival of General Saul, leader of the City of Aeroshard, and his immediate family!"
Without further adieu, the thick earth dragon leader marched into the ballroom, followed closely by Olivia and Jonathan. Saul's soldiers immediately dispersed to stand guard on multiple sides of the room without causing a disturbance, and the orchestra resumed playing the music.
Flame and Arthur watched from the side as the Earth dragons approached the front table, the Fire dragon having sat his tray on a side table.
"Oh great." Flame grimaced. "The 'world-famous' Johnny D is here."
"I'd love to wipe that smug grin right off his muzzle." Arthur commented.
At the back of the ballroom, Tyrrany grimaced: She was likely thinking the same thing, only with much more disdain.
Bergan stood up on his feet as Saul and his family came to a stop on the opposite side of the table.
"Ah, my dear old friend Saul." The purple dragon declared with a smile. "It's a pleasure to see you and your lovely wife once again."
"The pleasure's all mine, Bergan." The General replied. "We should really see each other much more often, considering how closely we work together."
"Nice to see ya again, Bergs." Jonathan grinned and stood up tall.
"Jonathan!" Olivia scolded. "Show him some respect."
The young Earth dragon grimaced, while his parents glared at him. "Sorry... Sir."
"All is forgiven." The purple dragon responded with a chortle. "There's no harm in trying to flatter. But enough pleasantries." Bergan motioned with his forepaw for the earth dragons to walk around the table. "This is a party: Why don't you all enjoy yourselves?"
"There's not a reason in the world." Olivia declared.
Saul and his family took their places on the other side of the table: Saul and Olivia sat to Bergan's right. As the senior partners were shuffling about, Madam Nymph approached and sat down to Bergan's immediate left. Saul flinched in surprise, but just snorted.
"About time you show yourself, Nymph." The General said to her.
"Just waiting for the right time, old friend." Nymph stuck her snout in the air and chuckled.
Tyrrany watched the two former monarchs exchange pleasantries. She tried to listen in… only for her view to be blocked off by Prince Jonathan. Tyrrany grimaced; it didn't take Jonathan long for him to look Tyrrany up and down.
"Nice to see you again, Sexy." He whispered.
"Shut up." Tyrrany said scornfully.
"Sheesh." Jonathan replied. "Is that any way to say hello to me? It's not often we get to hang out, you know."
"More like too often." The dragoness sneered. She leaned back, which gave Frederick a better view of the prince. The golden-scaled dragon grimaced at the sight of the prince.
"Oh, hey there, shorty." Jonathan chuckled at the younger drake. "Nice to see you again."
"Hi…" Frederick said quietly.
"Did you miss your buddy Johnny?" The earth prince put on a grin. "I think I owe you some tips on how to wield a dagger."
"Uh, no thanks…" Frederick sat back.
"Oh, come on." Jonathan chided. "I learned to use mine at around the same age as you."
"No means no, Jonathan." Tyrrany snapped. "Leave my brother alone."
Jonathan just snorted and rolled his eyes. "Whatever, Annie."
~~…~~
The meal went on for quite some time after that. The food was good, and the music was better. Tyrrany sighed as she settled in; a fancy ball was always a nice way to forget about her troubles. Especially if it meant she didn't have to talk to certain cretins who wasted her time.
Bergan picked up a fork and lightly banged it against his wine glass. "Everyone, settle down and pay attention, please!"
Every other person in the room focused their attention on the purple dragon, and the orchestra stopped playing. The President cleared his throat before beginning again.
"In order to round out this year's musical festivities, my two oldest children, Tyrrany and Frederick, will entertain the crowd with one of their city-famous duets."
The crowed murmured curiously. Tyrrany felt her brother tug on her sleeve giddily. Frederick practically dragged Tyrrany away from the table as he rose to get ready to perform. Tyrrany just sighed as she rose from her seat. As she followed Frederick around the table, Jonathan reached out to grope her flank. She quickly slapped him in the face with her tail and snorted.
"Yeesh…" Jonathan rubbed his face. "Overreacting much?"
Tyrrany just ignored him and followed Frederick across the ballroom.
Everyone went silent as the two siblings made their way to a section of the orchestra reserved for them. Frederick approached an elegant piano and sat down on a cushion. Meanwhile, Tyrrany was handed her violin case as she sat down across from him. The dragoness took a few breaths as she prepared her bow and rested her chin upon the guard. It didn't take Tyrrany long to figure out what to start playing; after all, there was one song in particular that Frederick always loved to play with her.
Frederick was the first to start playing; his talons moved methodically along the keys of the piano and began a slow song. The tune was simple, yet melancholic. Time and again there were gaps in the piano music; it was empty and wanting, leaving the air feeling dead. As the piece began to pick up, the somber tone continued to grow, leaving it wanting and miserable.
And then Tyrrany traced her bow along her strings. She took a few steady breaths as she played a similarly-slow tune. But that wasn't all that roared to life in the ballroom; as the dragoness played her violin, an aura of purple mist surrounded her body. The mist danced along her talons, onto the bow, and into the violin. With each trace the dragoness drew, she cast light from her bow and into the air. The light swirled over her head and hung in the air as a formless, shapeless mass of magic.
Soon Frederick's piano started from the beginning; the same somber tune filled the air. And as it did, the mass of light splintered at the center, and each piece took on new shapes; the first shape was a lonely dragon. The dragon stood on a hill with its head held low. And when the gaps in the piano cut the air, the dragon bent his head low and cried…
And then Tyrrany's violin cut the silence, shaping the rest of the fragments of light. They swirled around the lonely dragon, and took the form of a dragoness. The dragoness approached the dragon and brushed its head against him. She then beat her wings as the violin quickened its pace, and it took off into the sky. Frederick's piano returned, and the dragon took off to fly with the dragoness.
They danced together in the air: Piano and Violin. When one was dominant, it was highest in the sky, while its counterpart flew underneath. Dragon flew with dragon as strings danced among the keys. The song reached every corner of the ballroom, filling the air with joy…
And then the piano stopped playing, leaving the violin alone. The dragon vanished without a trace, and the dragoness looked everywhere for him. Tyrrany shut her eyes as she played a simple, quiet violin solo. The dragoness opened its jaws and wailed as the final, longest and highest pitch escaped the violin.
Soon, there was silence again, and the dragoness drooped in misery. Tyrrany struggled not to cry; she always hated this part of the song.
After what felt like an agonizing eternity, the piano finally picked up again. Tiny little dragons flew up from behind the dragoness's wings. They resembled their father, and flew in a circle around the dragoness. Tyrrany's violin roared to life once again, and the dragoness gathered up her little ones. They took to the sky and flew through the air in a V-shaped formation. They flew over mountains, hills, valleys and deserts as they traveled across the realms. The little ones grew over time, while their mother became elderly. Soon she could fly no more, and had to live out her days on the ground. And soon, she finally died, and her children buried her on the hill where she met their father. The dragons held their heads low, as the spirit of their mother moved on.
And as the music finally reached an end, Piano and Violin met once again in the underworld; there was no force on this world that could keep them apart.
Tyrrany put down her bow and sighed as the magic returned to her body. Frederick rose from his seat and stood beside his sister as applause began to ring out. Tyrrany looked around at the crowd; they wore so many smiles. Flame and Arthur in particular were delighted by the song.
"Bravo!" Flame called. "You're amazing, Annie!"
Tyrrany tried to smile… but she just couldn't bring up the feeling. That song… it always felt so personal to her. Like she shared in the misery of the dragons that took part in it. But that was stupid; it was just a light show. Why did she get like that?
Luckily, Tyrrany was pulled out of this funk when her brother tugged eagerly on her sleeve. He had wide, hopeful eyes as he looked up at her. "Did I do a good job, Sis?"
Tyrrany was taken aback; she couldn't fathom why he'd need her approval. With a slight sigh, she put her hand on his head and ruffled his mane. "Yeah, you did a great job, shorty."
Frederick's eyes widened even more. He happily hugged his sister's foreleg; she couldn't help but smile at this. She was about to drape a wing over her back, but then she heard Bergan banging a utensil on a wine glass again.
"Alright, everyone settle down." He called aloud. "We've got some other business to attend to."
Tyrrany put her violin back in its case and handed it to a servant. She then took Frederick with her to sit back down as her father stood up to prepare another one of his long-winded speeches.
"My friends, the Faeshrine Trading Company has blessed the dragon realms for many years now." Bergan declared. "Not that I'm a proud dragon, but we wouldn't have grown to become the largest and most successful trading business by sheer luck." He motioned with his glass around at the crowd. "Many dragons and non-dragons alike have done their part to help this business grow. And soon, we'll be able to share the wonders and splendor of Faeshrine to the entire world!"
The crowd applauded. A few of them even cheered Bergan's name. Tyrrany just sighed and sat back.
"There's not a single other brand name that the people of the world will trust with the safe protection and transfer of their goods and services besides the FTC, for this is the only company that has been able to evade Financial, Political, and Economical disaster and corruption." Bergan glanced about with a smug grin. "One could even say that, without the Faeshrine Trading Company, there would be no economy to speak of."
The crowd applauded again.
"But even though I am the owner and founder of the FTC, it is you, the many workers, merchants, sailors, and other middle-men, who have made this company what it is today. Each and every one of you is the blood of this company, and you have kept it alive and kicking. For that, you all have my deepest gratitude."
The purple dragon bowed his head to the crowd, who applauded even louder. Flame scoffed from his place at the side table.
"If President Bergan's good at anything, it's flattery and sucking up." He whispered.
"I get the point." Arthur added.
"Of course, if you are the blood..." The Purple dragon continued. "One could say that the military power of Aeroshard is the protective array of Scales that protects this company's body." He glanced toward Saul, who stood up and beamed with pride.
"And let's not forget Madam Nymph's sailing vessels, which would be the hearty muscle." Bergan winked in Nymph's direction. The icy dragoness just smirked and motioned with her wine glass toward him.
"For years now, the soldiers of Aeroshard and vessels of Dante's Freezer have protected our company's carriages and goods from thieves, vandals, and other undesirables." Bergan continued. "Thanks to Saul's brilliant military mind, and Nymph's naval shrewdness, we've never once had an unsavory incident. A round of applause for my dear friends, please."
Bergan once again motioned toward the two, and Saul and Nymph stood prouder than ever as the crowd applauded.
"Would either of you two wish to say a few words?" Bergan asked with a smirk.
"Oh, I think my actions speak louder than words." Nymph said as she sat down. "I'll pass."
"I won't." Saul snorted. He made a flourish with his cape and looked across at the crowd before taking a militant stance.
"For many years," The General began, "my good friend Bergan and I have conducted business together: I protect his goods and services, and he provides me with a small percentage of said goods and services as compensation. Our mutual relationship has kept both our cities at peak performance during these… trying times."
Flame, Arthur, and even Tyrrany rolled their eyes. The General was always so full of himself.
"But alas, we cannot hope to be around to keep this relationship going forever." Saul said. "Because of this, quite some time ago, Bergan and I decided on something… Something that had to be kept under wraps..." A grin spread from earfrill to earfrill. "…until tonight."
A murmur spread once again. Saul looked over at Jonathan and Tyrrany. The dragoness grimaced, while the prince beamed.
"Tyrrany, Jonathan, please stand up." The General stated.
Tyrrany took a very calm breath as she rose from her cushion. Jonathan rose up beside her and draped a wing over her back; she shuddered, but didn't push it away.
"Citizens of Faeshrine…" Bergan said as he stood up. "Now that both of these young dragons are over eighteen, we're pleased to announce that my oldest daughter Tyrrany…"
"…And my son Jonathan…" Saul added.
Bergan and Saul smirked at each other, and spoke in unison. "Are arranged to be married."
The declaration hung in the air over the crowd for quite some time. Some of the people cheered in delight, while a few others spoke in uneasy tones amongst themselves. All the while, Jonathan had a big ridiculous grin as he hugged Tyrrany close. The dragoness would have growled… if not for the sudden hug she got from Frederick.
"Congratulations, Sis." The golden youngling smiled.
"Th… Thanks, Frederick. Tyrrany said with a slight flush. It wasn't too long before the rest of Tyrrany's siblings descended on the dragoness to hug her and offer her congratulations.
Jonathan scrunched up his face and blushed as a few of the dragonlings crawled around him. "Whoa, watch the cape, ya rugrats."
"You be mindful of my brothers and sisters." Tyrrany snapped under her breath. Jonathan winced at that, but said nothing else.
"In a few weeks," Saul began again, "The two young dragons are set to become husband and wife, thus combining the two legal powers of Faeshrine and Aeroshard."
"What does that mean for the FTC?" Someone asked.
"Heh…" Bergan grinned. "Rest assured; I'll still be the president of our trading company for many years to come. It can be hard to say what the full ramifications of the union of Jonathan and Tyrrany will be."
"That's a funny thing to say, coming from YOU…" Nymph snorted in amusement. "You probably know exactly where all of this is going."
"Well I don't want to give away all of my secrets." Bergan chuckled. The rest of the crowed starting laughing, too, for a time. But eventually Bergan silenced them with a wave of his forepaw. "But as I've said, there's much planning to be done. I thank you all for coming to the ball this evening; I wish you all the best in the future."
Eventually the dinner had reached its end. The many guests started standing up to be on their way. With a sigh, Tyrrany stood up from her seat and walked along the table. A few of her siblings tried to walk alongside her, but the dragoness used her tail to stop them.
"Tyrrany, wait…" Frederick frowned and trotted up to her. "Can't we play another song together soon?"
"I want to be alone for a while." Tyrrany scolded. "We can play our instruments some other time, Frederick."
The golden dragon frowned and bowed his head glumly. "Okay…"
Tyrrany walked off without another word. She passed by Bergan and the other senior partners on the way. Bergan watched her go and lightly frowned.
"Hmm…" The purple drake grimaced. "I guess she's turning in early tonight."
"Should we send someone to bring her back?" Saul asked.
"Hmm..." Bergan said again as he ran his talons through his golden beard. "Whether that is a good idea or not, I cannot say: my daughter has been a bit... troubled, as of late."
"Can I go after her, Sir?" Jonathan asked. "Maybe I can find a way to cheer her up."
Saul winced; he thought for sure that his son's innuendo would infuriate the purple drake. But instead, Bergan simply smiled.
"Go right ahead, young dragon." He answered. "After all, she is going to be your bride soon. It's only fitting for you to spend some time to bond with her more."
"Sweet." The young green dragon exclaimed. "See ya later, Sir."
Without another word, Jonathan turned and left the table. Flame and Arthur watched this as it took place, the red dragon fuming with anger. He couldn't hear what was said, but he didn't like the look on the earth prince's face.
Arthur flew around Flame's head and frowned. "You okay?"
"I swear..." Flame sneered. "One of these days, I'm gonna break that thug's face." He dug his talons into the table cloth. "She's far too good for a punk like him."
"And what about you?" The dragonfly asked. He flew up to Flame's eyes and gave him a curious look, to which Flame balked.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"What I meant is: Do you think you're the right kind of guy for her?" Arthur poked Flame on the snout.
Flame adjusted his collar. "Well..."
"Hey, Flame!" A female voice called from behind. Curious, Flame turned around in his see to see an earth dragoness trotting up to him. She set a silver tray next to Flame's on the table and sat down in the empty cushion.
"Oh… hi, Jenna." Flame said halfheartedly.
Jenna was another one of Bergan's younger employees. She was roughly seventeen years old, with a surprisingly muscular, yet still clearly feminine build. Her green hide was partially covered by a server's vest similar to the one on Flame, and her yellow underbelly was neatly polished for the ball. She had a bright yellow mane, which was partially covering her electric-blue eyes. Her four red horns curled down the side of her head, and her muzzle was short and beaklike.
Flame sucked in a breath to make himself seem as stoic as possible; he was always uneasy when around this or a few of the other young dragonesses in the FTC HQ.
"I'm glad that I was able to find you before the ball ended." Jenna declared. "I and a few of the others were planning on heading over to a pool party at Chidori's place tomorrow. Wanna come?"
"Um..." The red dragon stammered. "Thanks, but I'll only go if Tyrrany's invited too."
Jenna flinched as soon as the purple dragoness's name was mentioned. She stuck up her snout and cleared her throat.
"I see…" She said; the disapproval was clear in her voice. "In that case, it'll be a shame not seeing you at the party."
"For you, maybe." Arthur commented.
"Oh, shut it, gnat." The dragoness sneered
"Hey!" Flame exclaimed. "You leave Arthur out of this."
"Fine…" The dragoness groaned. "I'd really hoped that you'd finally come around, now that she is betrothed." She flapped her wings. "A nice looking drake like you could have such better friends than… the freak."
Flame shot Jenna a glare. "Don't even think about insulting Tyrrany in front of me." He rose up onto his paws. "I wouldn't want to hang out with anyone who talks trash about my friends. Take a hike, Jenna."
"Fine!" She shouted louder before grabbing her tray and storming off.
After Jenna was gone, Flame sighed in frustration. He poured a dozen glasses full of red wine, placed them upon his tray, and carefully grasped it in his mouth.
"Mome mon." He said through the tray. "mets mo, Marthur."
"If you say so..." Arthur crossed his arms and sighed. "Just try to relax, Flame."
And with that, the two teenagers started offering drinks to the crowd.
~~…~~
Tyrrany walked down the hallway that led to her room. She could still hear signs of the raging storm just outside the windows. She sighed in relief and slowed her pace; at least she was safe indoors while the worst was going on. The dragoness lightly pushed the door to her room open and walked inside.
The walls of the dragoness's room were made of mahogany, and the floor was covered in a red rug. A thick yellow mattress sat on the east side of the room near the door, while a wooden desk sat a short distance behind it. A massive portrait of various princes and princesses hung to the left of a large window on the far wall. The dragoness sneered at the portrait as she placed her violin case against it; there were scratch marks on the face of one particular princess that Tyrrany wasn't pleased with.
Thunder boomed in the distance, and even more rain pelted the glass window relentlessly. Tyrrany shuddered and rushed to her back doors to close the curtains. The sounds were muffled, but were still there. The dragoness took several breaths as she struggled to keep calm; even looking at the rain was enough to spook her.
That storm… She thought with a shiver. It's almost like the one when I… I…
She shook her head before the memories could flood in.
"No." She told herself. "I won't let myself remember it."
The dragoness opened up her violin case and pulled out her instrument. She sat down in the middle of the room and prepared her stance. Perhaps some practice would help her get her mind off the storm. She brought her bow to the strings and began to play a few notes… before a knock came to the door.
"Ugh…" She put her bow down and groaned. "Who is it?"
"It's your new hubby." A voice chuckled outside. The dragoness groaned even louder.
"Go away." She snapped. "I am SO not in the mood for your antics."
"Hey, your dad and mine said I should talk to you." Jonathan replied as he peered through the side of the door; the chain held it closed, but his eye had plenty of room to poke around.
The dragoness considered poking back in retaliation, but simply snorted instead. "I don't care."
"Oh, come on." The earth prince pleaded. "It's the first time we've seen each other in months. Can't you give a guy a chance? We've got our whole lives ahead of each other, Annie; do you really want to spend them hating each other?"
Tyrrany rolled her eyes. Just the thought of having to be the wife of that thuggish imbecile of a prince made her nauseous. But, she knew it was coming; her father had planned it for ages. And if Bergan planned something for his daughter, then she knew it was for her own good.
"Fine…" Tyrrany sighed. "Don't make me regret this, Jonathan."
Tyrrany walked over and unlocked the door. She stepped back as Jonathan walked in with that usual strut of his. He looked around at her bedroom and grinned.
"I see you've really spruced up the place since we last met…" He said. When Jonathan's eyes fell upon the torn portrait, he shuddered. "Well, that's still the same as always, I guess."
"Indeed…" Tyrrany walked back to her violin and started playing on it again. As she did this, Jonathan walked around her and sat on his haunches to face her. She sneered and looked away as she kept playing, though she could just barely see the prince swaying back and forth on the edge of her eye.
"You're one talented girl, Tyrrany." Jonathan said with a smirk. "And you've got a sexy face, too."
"Gee, thanks." Tyrrany said sarcastically
"You're welcome." He replied with a grin; whether he picked up on her sarcasm or not he didn't show. "But I've wondered something for ages: why do you always wear that black outfit?"
"It's none of your business." Tyrrany snorted.
"Hey, you're going to be my wife soon." Jonathan shrugged. "It's only a matter of time before it IS my business."
Tyrrany played a few sour notes as her talons slipped, but she quickly took a breath and focused on her song again. She took a deep breath and exhaled steadily, just like she practiced as a dragonling.
Jonathan stood up and walked around the dragoness, which made her scowl. She looked away several times to keep him outside of her field of vision.
"What are you doing, Jonathan?" She demanded.
"Don't get me wrong, Tyrrany: Those stockings and that cape look really good on you..." He said with a grin. He unclipped his cloak with his talons and let it fall off his back onto the floor. He then stepped into Tyrrany's view and grinned. "But I'll bet our outfit would look even better on the floor right now."
Tyrrany's eyes lit up in anger. She put her bow down and growled at the prince, which made him falter a bit. She took another deep breath and looked him in the eyes.
"Jonathan…" She said, doing her best to keep her composure. "I know every well that my father wants me to marry you, and I'll respect him by honoring his wishes…"
"Sounds good to me." The prince nodded.
"However." The dragoness held a talon in the air. "I'm not some cheap skank, like one of your little floozies in your gang. If you want your member to get wet, go sleep with one of THEM."
"I can't: If I did, then I'd be cheating on you." Jonathan gave a shrug.
"Sounds like a YOU problem." Tyrrany stuck her snout in the air.
"Oh, come on." Jonathan chided as he stepped closer. "What's wrong with doing the deed with me?" He gestured to himself with a wing. "I got myself all dolled up for you, Annie."
"And that's supposed to be enough to get me to bend over and let you have me?" Tyrrany snapped.
"Well, what else do you want me to do?" Jonathan asked. "I'm not talented with musical stuff like you are. And I don't have any flowers or chocolates on me." He fell back onto his haunches and flapped his wings in frustration. "You say you're not a cheap skank. Well of course not: you're BERGAN'S DAUGHTER. The Arrogant Amethyst's most beloved dragoness in the whole world. And he picked ME to be your husband." Jonathan poked his chest with a thumb-talon. "Would it kill you to give me a chance to make you happy, Tyrrany?! Or do you want us BOTH to be miserable and angry for the rest of our lives?!"
Jonathan looked Tyrrany right in the eyes. She could tell that he wanted it badly… but not so badly that he'd do something desperate. Besides, if he was up to something sinister, then there'd be no doubt that Bergan would have stopped him. Actually, Ancestors knowing, the purple dragon would never even have let Jonathan into the city if Jonathan was ever going to do something awful to her. Maybe… just maybe… she could let her guard down for once.
"Fine…" The dragoness said with a grumble. "I'll give you one chance, for now. But you better now blow it."
Jonathan's eyes beamed. He stepped closer to plant a kiss on Tyrrany's muzzle, but she stepped back and held up a forepaw.
"We go at MY pace, horndog." She snapped. "Or else you get nothing."
"Okay…" He fell back onto his haunches and grinned. "We'll go at your pace… my love."
A chill crawled up Tyrrany's spine; he kept pushing his luck, albeit accidentally that time. With a deep breath, the dragoness turned around to face away from Jonathan. She gripped the edge of her cape and shuddered; already she could feel the prince's eyes surveying her body. Little did he know he was in for quite a surprise. With shut eyes, the dragoness unclipped the string on her cape, pulled back her hood, and removed the whole cloth from her body. She let it fall to the floor as she unfurled her wings…
"The fuck?" Jonathan exclaimed.
Oh no. There it was. Tyrrany looked back at the prince; Jonathan's eyes were wide as he looked over the dragoness's body.
"Your scales!" He shouted. "They're… Wh-!"
The dragoness quickly whirled on the prince and clasped his muzzle shut. She looked left and right, hoping and praying that nobody in any adjacent rooms heard the prince shout. Once she was sure that nobody heard the secret, she sighed in relief… and then glowered at Jonathan.
"Keep. Your. Voice. Down." She spat as she let go of the prince's muzzle.
"W-wait a minute." He stammered. He stared unbelieving at Tyrrany's back again and brought his voice to a whisper. "Why are your scales white? Do you have some kind of medical condition?"
"It's not a condition, Jonathan." She snarled through gritted fangs. She wiped her face with the edge of one of the stocking on her forelegs, revealing the white scales underneath the purple makeup. Jonathan stepped back and shook his head.
"You're not a…" He blinked several times. "…What ARE you?"
"I'm your hot piece of arse, remember?" She snarled. Tyrrany turned back around, spread her legs, and lifted her tail up. Jonathan gulped and fell back a bit.
"Well, what are you waiting for?" Tyrrany demanded with enraged sarcasm. "Give your wife-to-be a pounding!"
"W-Wait, hold on…" Jonathan rubbed his head. "This is a lot to take in. Have you been trying to hide your scale color this whole-"
"What do you THINK, you blundering moron?!" Tyrrany screamed. She backed up in an attempt to press her backside against the prince's chest. Jonathan grimaced. He pushed Tyrrany away from him and tried to walk around to her side.
"I… I think I need time to process this." He said uneasily. "Maybe I should talk to my Pops and-"
"Try to call this whole thing OFF?" Tyrrany snapped. She turned to stalk forward as she glowered at him.
"No necessarily…" He said uneasily. "Though to be honest… I can kind of see why you'd want that. But-"
"So, have you lost your balls now that you've found out that I'm really like THIS?" Tyrrany gestured angrily to herself. "Looks like the secret's out now! Everything they whispered about in other parts of the HQ is true!" She fell back onto her haunches and made dramatic gestures. "Come on, come all! Come and see the FREAK that President Bergan adopted off the street!"
"Alright, I think you're getting a bit too upset now…" Jonathan said with a shiver. "Maybe we should… uh… postpone our time together for a night or two?"
"Oh, just GET OUT!" Tyrrany screamed. She grabbed her cape and hurriedly put it back over her body. "Get out NOW, before I put my foot up your arse!" She stomped closer. "And you better keep QUIET!"
Jonathan yelped in surprise. He grabbed his cape off the floor, opened the front door and escaped down the hallway as fast as he could go. The prince struggled not to scream the whole way.
In the meantime, Tyrrany slammed the door shut, locked it, and stormed over to the other side of the room. She sat down in the spot she had before and breathed sharply and quickly.
Damn coward. She snapped. Stupid, rock-brained, coward!
But the longer Tyrrany stewed in her anger, the more she began to feel dread. It was going to happen. It was only a matter of time before someone else found out about her secret. And who else could it be, but the dragon she'd have to marry? He was going to find out eventually; she couldn't keep wearing her dark clothing around him forever.
And now he knows… Tyrrany sighed. How long until General Saul or Madam Nymph found out? How long could threatening that prince go to keep him from telling anyone else?
Tyrrany took a few more breaths… and cried a little.
"Why him?" she wondered aloud. "Of all the dragons, Dad… why do I have to marry HIM? How can you trust HIM to be in my life?"
The dragoness picked up her bow to play her songs… only to just shake her head and snort; she just couldn't work up the nerve anymore. After putting her instrument away, Tyrrany crawled into her bed and slumped down. She pulled the covers over herself and exhaled slowly… and then a thunder-crack made her yelp and pant faster.
"It's outside, not inside…" She whispered to herself. She curled up into a ball. "Outside, not inside…"
As the white dragoness slipped away into unconsciousness, one last question ran through her head.
Why am I a monster?
~~…~~
Greetings, friends and loved ones.
Ah, there's so much that I'm glad to have finally changed. For one thing, I wanted to have Cynder (and by extension, Spyro) have more of a presence in Forsaken Blood. I guess it IS supposed to be a fanfic about the, right? Anyway, I've re-used the chalk summoning stuff hinted at in Rising Fears, so that Cynder can be "called up" for advice.
I've also given a stronger presence to Tyrrany's half-siblings. They were technically included in the "Final Mix" rewrite attempt of 2012, but barely existed afterward. And with the siblings, I also made Tyrrany much nicer toward them; especially toward Frederick.
Lastly, I've decided to tone down the awfulness presented by Prince Jonathan. As I've grown older, I've found that I don't like writing characters that are comically awful to exaggerated degrees. He's still a slimy creep, but he also has his boundaries.
With this chapter being posted, we're not one-third of the way through Act One. There's still so much more new stuff to add, and I hope you all enjoy it as it comes out. Keep an eye out for Sandra and Lantel, the fire dragon twins. You'll find something interesting is on the way with them. XD
Tenebra ecce Veritas
