“Love? I may have loved once. 

Or twice. Maybe three times. It all ended the same. 

With them still and buried;

And my heart black and blue from the bruise, along with my-a forgotten mind.”

XII

Reeda Glayze sat on his bedside. Her shoulders shuddered slightly, as she fought back tears. With trembling fingers she smoothed his bedsheets. Then she leaned forward and gently brushed away a few strands of his pale hair. He, her brother, was sleeping. His breath was constant but shallow. 

 Reeda stiffly sat up, and glared at the ceiling. ‘Your alive… still fighting... Like your big sister… A gift from our sovereign King… and equally a curse for us… a curse for me’ The eleven-year-old boy shifted in his sleep. His frail chest shuddered as he coughed, blood seeping from between the gaps of his teeth. Tears slipped from the assassin’s eyes. ‘Your constantly enduring pain… For your every breath, I must fight, slaughter, assassinate, murder, and torture… People I don't even know! All so that Ejdair will heal you… Even with his magic, you’re hanging on by a thread. If.. if you let go… it would end our pain. I will no longer have to kill… you won’t be in pain. You won’t suffer every day. Ejdair would kill me. Brutally in front of his army. I am a symbol of his power… kill me he would increase their fear… And I don’t care. I won’t be a tool. You won’t be in agony.’ She lovingly caressed his cheek, as tears rolled down freely. ‘But please don’t let go. Don’t let the illness win. I promised Mother, as she died from this same illness, that I would protect you. No matter what…. No matter what.’

 She closed her eyes; closing off the tears. Reeda wrangled her emotions into a thread. She sloppily stitched her bruised bleeding heart. Then the pain was gone once more. She was a stone- an emotionless heartless stone. 

 “Reeda..?” Coughed, a small brittle voice. Reeda’s eyes snapped open. She smiled softly.

 “I’m here, Erik.” She took one of his hands in hers. His skin was pale and papery. While grey eyes wide and pained. 

 “I was wondering when you would get here.” Weakly, smiled the boy. Erik coughed, blood, red as wine, dribbling down his lip. 

 A stitch snapped. 

 “Oh? Why is that?” Reeda bent forward and once again, brushed his hair from his eyes.

 “You don’t need to fix my hair.” Pouted Erik, as he took his free hand and messed up his hair again. “I like the.. bedhead style.” 

 “But it’s in your eyes. You have such lovely grey eyes.” Grinned Reeda. 

 “Geez, you sound like a mom…. I’m not a girl. Plus, you have the... same color.” 

 A stitch snapped. ‘You sound like a mom… he doesn't even remember his own mother.’

 “Alright. I won't ruin your disheveled hairdo.”

 “I’m bedridden. I am the definition of disheveled.”

  A stitch snapped. With each snap of a stitch, her heart was being ripped wide open. Reeda sighed, and forced a smile, “You look nice disheveled.”

 There was an awkward silence. Neither of them knew what to say next. Brother and sister quietly sat, musing their thoughts.

 Erik frowned, and thoughtfully pursed his lips together. He looked almost scared. “The maids…. They say… you’re a monster. You come back with… with heads in your bags… and.. And painted in blood. Is it true?” 

 Reeda’s breath caught in her throat. Another two stitches were wergone. 

 “No. No. No. I'm not a monster.” ‘But I am.’ “They don’t understand.” ‘They do.’ “I am a Doryu. You know that. I have the power of a Shadow Dragon. Because of that, they think of me as a monster. They think my power is a monster. Like how a Dragon is. But power is not evil. It is not good. It is just a tool.” ‘Like how I am. Yet I am a monster.’ “Whether it’s good or evil, depends on the person using it.”

 “Oh.” Erik looked down at his hands. 

 “I’ll show you,” she pulled for the darkness in the room. Grabbing the shadows,  they flickered in her hand like a black heatless flame. She concentrated and they took the form of a small misty horse. The horse of rolling shadows leapt from her hands and pranced along the white bedsheets. 

 A huge smile broke out on Erik’s face. He laughed. His ringing laughter set a true smile on Reeda’s face. A smile which collapsed as his laughter became a bloody ragged cough. 

Reeda gulped, “Are you alright?”

 Using the corner of the sheet, Erik wiped his mouth,“Yes.. can you sing me… that song you said mom used to sing… please..”

 Another stitch snapped. A lump formed in her throat. He didn’t remember his own mother.

 “Of course Erik.” Reeda scooted closer to him. He snuggled deeper into his cocoon covers, his eyes wide and waiting. 

 Reeda sang. Her voice was soft as silk and full of sweet ringing notes. Her words were filled with the raw echoing emotions: Sadness and fear, passion and love.

 “Bittersweet nonsense…

 And the world is hushed…

 Soothing sweet nonsense…

 And we stop the rush…

 We dance by the flames…

 The fire on our doorstep.

 Listen to me..

 Nothing is the same...

 But we will remain the same.

 Have dreams...

 Dancing Fae and Dragon’s Fire.

 Living on the seam.

 But please don’t cross that midnight wire. 

 Ignore the angels.

 They sell us lies.

 We must stay out of sight,

 For they have hearts of cold and white. 

 Stay out of sight. 

 To fly they must sell a lie of endless daybreak.

 So cold and white.

 It’s the beasts of broken wings, of a black night making….

 That we must heed and meet. 

 Bittersweet nonsense…

 Fight fire with fire.

 Light fire with song.

 Cascade in the wrong.

 Carried by broken wings.

 Shielded by white wings. 

 Living in the ring.

 White wings boiled black.

 We’re the same…

 In this bittersweet nonsense.

 Have dreams...

 Dancing Fae and Dragon’s Fire.

 Live on the seam.

 But please don’t cross that midnight wire. 

 You and me…

 We sleep...

 We dove to the deep.

 Now we sleep.

 Safe. Can’t you sense it…?

 Always you and me.  

 In the soothing sweet, of this bittersweet nonsense.”

 Erik was asleep. His breathing was still shallow, but even. A faint smile was plastered on his lips. 

 “Please don’t cross that midnight wire…” Reeda bent over and kissed his forehead.

 She stood and left. Reeda rushed to her room and cried herself to sleep. 

~

Reeda awoke to someone gently shaking her. Carson stood there. His tan calloused hands were lightly gripping her shoulders, as they shook her. 

 He had kind, but hardened, brown eyes, shortcut dirty-blonde hair, and an angular strong jaw. His nose was bridged like a hawk’s beak. Racing from his bottom lip down his chin was a scar. He was in his black uniform. 

 “Reeda… are you up..?” 

 Reeda curled into a ball, and pressed her into her pillow, “Hmmm?”

 “Reeda. Ejdair is waiting. You only have a few minutes. Please get up.” 

 She slowly sat up, her eyes were half-open and sleep-crust clung to her eyelashes. Grey. Grey. And Grey. Her entire room was grey: grey moth-eaten sheets, grey stone floor, grey stone wall, grey ceiling, grey wool rug, grey, grey, grey, and grey. All grey. It was the only color besides the torch’s flame- Hungry yellow flames. The whole crumbling castle was like this. Everything was grey and bleak.

  A small barred window gave her a view of the bleak scenery. A rolling grey sky which, casted grey shadows on the greystone beach. Angry dark waves ruthlessly crashed against the shore. Jutting out of the grey ground were white thin lines. Having seen the lines in person, Reeda knew that they were bones. The whole palace was choked by a cloud of pain, and misery. The scent of ash and rot fogged every room. Once Reeda went searching for the source of the rancid stench and after hours of looking she had realized it was coming from the people living within the walls. 

Reeda rolled over, yawning and meeting Carson's gaze, “Carson, why are you here? Who sent you?”

 “No one. But I do know that you will be late to your meeting with Ejdair. Him being angry is the last thing any of us want.” Slowly Carson removed his hands from her shoulders. 

 “True… ,” Reeda sat up and glared at Carson. “But don't you know not to walk into a girl's room?”

 “I had knocked!” Carson put up his hands in defense and took a step back. “I’d rather risk you than Ejdair. I’ll leave you to get ready.” He turned to leave. Reeda’s gut twisted and her heart dropped. 

 “Thanks,” whispered Reeda, her voice soft and fluttering. Just like a kitten’s mewling, it was laden with need and fear. “I don't know why you care, but thanks.”

  Carson stopped at the doorway. He sighed and ran his fingers through his dirty-blonde hair. “I hope your brother gets better.” Carson shot a worrisome glance over his shoulder. Quietly he turned the doorknob and left. 

 As a blush crept up the back of her neck, she gazed into the vacant space where Carson once stood. To herself and her pounding heart, she mouthed two simple words. ‘Thank you.’ A shiver ran down her back; as she realized that she truly meant it. That they weren’t just paper-thin words, to be thrown to the wind. 

 Reeda turned to her window, letting her thoughts about Carson fade and dissipate. Suicide was not an option. Yet it was always there: calling, tugging, and prodding. It was a smiling ghost at the edge of her fraying thoughts, with only the strength of butterfly’s wingbeat to spread it's vile whispers. But even the beat of a butterfly’s wing can change the world. Reeda had days, where she had only wanted to jump and land dead and broken; as so many soldiers had done before her. But today was not one of those days. 

 ~

Ejdiar, in the form of an eleven-year-old boy, was lounging on his throne. A throne carved of milkwhite stone and engraved with twisted screaming faces. The Dragon King was clad in his usual white robes and fake charisma that was powdered with a hollowing smile.

 Reeda bowed at the foot of his throne. In the corner of Reeda’s eye, she saw a swish of pink. A small pale woman hovered at the edge of the room. The shadows were snaking, as they twined with her inky hair. Her pink dress fell to her ankles. She was rocking back and forth on the heels of her bare feet. Yellow tinted with age were fraying bandages; they were wrapped tightly around her face. Completely obscuring her eyes. But somehow, she seemed to be seeing just fine. 

 She was holding her hands behind her back, like a patient child waiting to question her parents. Her slender face was tilted to the side, like a curious dog. No, raven suits her better. She had far too much of an air of independence to be like a dog. This made Reeda’s gut twist with worry.  

 “Reeda, you may stand,” yawned Ejdair. His voice ripped Reeda’s attention away from the girl in pink. Swiftly and silently, she obeyed. “The Crystal of the Poison Dragon.” He held out his gloved hand. 

  Reeda’s head spun like a child’s top. She eyed the smoking torches that were mounted to and lined the walls. ‘What would happen if I were to fling this tiny crystal into the torch’s fire? Would all the power of a Dragon shrivel and burn up? Or would it explode and devour us all? What does Ejdair want with it? What is he planning? Why me?’ As her muddy thoughts continued to swim and swirl, Reeda numbly pulled it from her pocket. 

 A small glittering crystal, the size of her thumbnail, sat in the palm of her hand. Reeda blinked as Rya’s face materialized in her thoughts. All the red seeping and streaming down the girl’s front. The way her face twisted in pain. The way a thread of blood trickled from her lips, as weak sputtering gasp was all that had been left of her breath. The way her glassy eyes glimmered with defiance as so many emotions danced in their dulling depths: fear, sorrow, pain, realization, and confusion. And finally, the way Rya went limp, as if the girl had been a marionette whose strings had been suddenly severed. The small purple crystal, which the size of her thumbnail, was apparently worth more than a life. 

 Somehow, with clammy hands, Reeda managed to hand it to her King. 

 Ejdair grinned. He held it up into the torchlight. Baleful light glowed from within its crystalline depths.

 Reeda glanced away from Ejdair; as she was suddenly fighting nausea. She made a quick attempt to spot the woman in pink. 

 She was gone. 

 This sent more chills down her spine. The woman obviously had some kind of great power to be able to roam around freely. Reeda would rather be able to see her and know where she was. Hidden threats were the most dangerous. She could only hope that the girl in pink wasn’t a Dragon. And if she was, she didn't indulge herself in wearing the innocence and naivetés of a child. At least not in the way Ejdair did.

 “All the power of a Dragon, placed into such a small crystal…” Ejdair smiled. “You're a Doryu. The blood of those who originally wielded it is your veins. Making it natural for you to use it. But you already have a Crystal…” He pouted.  Ejdair’s eyes lazily listed to the side and locked with Reeda’s. He smiled, which stretched his mouth far too wide and flashed his too-white teeth. “But your brother shares your blood.”

  There was a cold prickling in Reeda’s cheeks. It was the sensation of the  colour desaturating from her face, and the formation of thin beads of sweat. Her face was as pale as Maysbrin.