Chapter 11 - ' Playing The Part '

A single thought passed through the minds of the two men that sat on the floor.

Of all people to see us, why the Crown Prince?

The space around them darkened as the clouds rolled by. The dark energy that roamed within his body continued its unforgiving rampage. Steady breaths. Rystler tried to calm himself, but he was at his limit. The last of his energy melted away like a palm full of snow in the cool spring air.

A drop of black ink crossed his golden sea consuming everything in its path. There was a reason for the natural laws. The line Rystler crossed finally showed itself. Only skeletal practitioners could consume the food of the dead.

Their bodies had the ability to break down the raw energy. It was then used during combat or for sustenance during prolonged periods of fasting. Although a portion of it was used to sustain the life within Rystler. The excess corrupted his energy and effectively began to suffocate his dragon.

Azrael had never encountered such feelings of helplessness. The only thing he could think of was the Goddess' blessing, but even that did not help them. He watched as the energy that gave him life take away the one in his arms. Azrael pulled Rystler closer to his person. His body cooled at an alarming rate signalling his impending fate.

Oh Goddess! Please,

"Help him!" Azrael's words ricocheted off the library walls.

Keen green eyes looked down on him in disdain. Although his first instinct was to strike the man on the floor, he felt as though those words were not meant for him. With a clang, the weapon fell to the ground. The energy that held the lance together dispersed causing it to shatter.

Compassion moved the Prince's heart of ice. Not doubting his skill. He began to chant. He practiced almost daily, expulsion and revival. The objects of his focus were usually smaller in size and had less complicated inner workings, but the Prince took up the challenge.

The green light that danced between the Crown Prince's fingers grew in size. The symbols that decorated the ball floated in and out of focus in time with their utterance. The magic of the nymph was thick in the air.

Azrael's attention was diverted to the green light that was placed above Rystler's head. The Crown Prince acted. Bringing his hand down, the dark energy fought against the purifying light of the sea. With a stoic face, the Crown Prince added more fuel to his touch. Pleased with where the ball came to rest. He began to whisper to the God of the sea.

In an instant, the poison lightened in colour. In its shadow form the dark energy rushed out Rystler's body. The tendrils slithered to the dark corners of the library, however a few were consumed by the practitioner near them.

A blinding burst of energy, elicited a painful cry from Rystler lips. Thin lips tightly pursed relaxed. I did it. A thin bead of sweat ran down the side of the Crown Prince's forehead. It was over. The worst was over. The light dimmed revealing two equally tired faces.

Ryslter was too overwhelmed to hide his nakedness, much less to try and cover himself in glamour. He felt his robes being shut tightly and his hair being caressed. To struggle was an understatement, however a weak smile was shown to Azrael.

Red lips pecked on Rystler's forehead. The love in the small movements was obvious to the one next to them. He moved away on his own accord.

A thin arm held Rystler's body with no complaint. It was nearing five minutes since the Crown Prince had stepped away giving them a moment to themselves.

Can't we stay like this? Forever?

Rystler's last thoughts swam in the deep abyss that was his mind, before eyes laiden with sleep closed themselves.

The first sign of life could be heard in the small space. Gasping for air, Rystler's golden beauties adjusted to the lighting in the room. The shackles that bound him reminded him that last night was anything but a dream.

"Low'veta," said Azrael.

Rystler turned to the source of the voice. Confined to his cell, Azrael looked through the bars at his partner. The need to hold him was strong, but the current position he was in stopped him. The chains that bound him were a necessary evil after what occured last night.

"Low'veta," said Rystler.

He rose up only to fall onto the stiff mattress. The pain that ran the length of his spine crippled him.

"I can't... I can't get up!" Rystler panicked, his breaths came out in short puffs.

"Please don't. You'll stress them. Stop moving!" Too wrapped up in his anxiety the misspoken word went over Rystler's head.

"You should listen to him," said the unnoticed woman.

The metal door of the cell was opened by one of the guards stationed there. A woman of astounding beauty entered the small space. Her golden hair fashioned in the likeness of a short bob swayed as she walked.

Though small in stature her golden eyes were sharp, daring anyone who looked into them to undermine her. Rystler knew this was the end of the line, yet still his hand pulled the robes he wore closer in an attempt to hide what could not be hidden.

"Evlyn Everlesse," said Rystler.

His voice broke halfway through. This wasn't how things were supposed to play out. He was to introduce Azrael to his family, give birth and ask his parents to keep watch over their daughter whilst they both worked for the King. She was not a part of Rystler's plan. She was not to find out about his pregnancy. He knew her reason for visiting him today. It made him sick.

"I won't do it," said Rystler.

He swallowed the bile that rose in his chest and cut to the chase. He was not going to allow her to decide what should or should not be done about his daughter.

Evlyn's eyes flashed brightly. Who did this lowly scum think he was!

"It is Ms. Everlesse to you, soldier!" The leader of the Storm Battalion snapped. The last shred of humanity was stripped from her voice, as she looked at him with cold eyes.

"You know the procedure. I have come to collect them," said Evlyn.

The defiance in Rystler's eyes spoke at lengths. A short rush of steam exited her nostrils, the change was smooth and the haala took purposeful strides to the bedridden man.

"I will cut them out of you, if you don't give them up willingly!"

Azrael knew her words were anything, but an empty threat. He had seen many of the ruthless things her dragon had done over the years and it rattled his skeleton. For the second time in less than twenty-four hours Azrael's heart sank at his state of helplessness. She was here for his babies. She wanted to crush the thing that held them safe.

The cuffs that held him shook noisily only to still seconds later. The venomous drink they forced down his throat was effectively holding his essence at bay. He could not shift and he could not call on the darkness. All that he could do was watch in remorseful silence and pray that the Goddess saved Rystler.

A thin vial was produced from the folds of Evlyn's robes. Using a single claw the cork was pulled free. Rystler watched the brown fluid with fearful eyes.

"No! Please don't! Please!" He begged her.

Salty tears rolled past his lower lashes and down the sides of his face. He sealed his lips, as she hovered over him with the vial in hand. Easily overpowering him in his weakened state, she pressed the vial to his lips.

Frantic attempts to move his head were made angering the one above him. Pulling her free hand back, she released the rage inside her in one swift punch. Rystler's head sunk into the pillow, his vision jumped. Taking advantage of his disoriented state, she sent the contents of the vial down his throat.

"You don't have to. Please don't do this. Let them live! Please!" Azrael's shouts landed on deaf ears.

Noting that the minute needed for the concoction to take effect was up. She smiled in satisfaction. Rystler felt an involuntary shift occur. His dragon was now exposed to the woman and he could do nothing to stop it. Large and swollen, Rystler's stomach was displayed for her to see.

"Onsca," said Evlyn.

A golden knife materialized in her palm. Its curved handle glinted in the light of the room. In his state of weakness, Rystler shook his head saying, "Get ... away ... from ... me! No! St, st..."

Stop!

The dragon's roar overflowed into the corridor, rushing past the windows and into the open skies. Evlyn had set to work, an opening was cut on the lower half of his abdomen. Running horizontally from one side to the next. The first stage had begun and no one could stop what she had set her mind to do. Setting down the knife, she started the second stage.

Ten fingers flexed, before gripping each half of the bleeding incision. Skin and muscle tore away from the smooth surface inside. Drowning out the helpless cries and enraged growls, she reached amongst the life fluid and removed the first egg.

In a corner out of sight. Slender fingers rubbed the bumps that raised on his skin. He knew what would happen to the eggs. They would be broken killing whatever slumbered inside. A sad, but very true reality. He hardened his resolve. They had broken the rules. They deserved this! His fingers clutched the skin beneath them, as he ripped his eyes away.

They deserved this.

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