Anixae, the youngest of us all hadn't been mixed up in the affairs of the other Magic Bloods long enough to know what an 'Angitho' was.

She asked, eyes bright and voice full of challenge, "Why would our sister take this... Omnisong? She's one of the oldest Dryads in existence. Immortality has lost its shine to her; what use would she have for some archaic treasure that belongs to you heathens?!"

"Anixae, Anixae... Why do you speak as if you know anything?" Rizzaget's deep, chesty laugh was a texture of soft-spoken venom and crinkling disdain as he leaned one cheek against a fist, an elbow planted on his table in languish.

I'd thought he'd be ridden by down-trodden emotions for a while – regret or sentimentality thawing his normal impudence – but he'd clearly bound them up with ease, and now those wicked eyes of his were slowly trying to whittle down my sister's features. He licked his teeth as Anixae stared back, more out of spite than anything, the pair barely just reigning in the urge to throw claws and spells as I, for once in my long life, delegated to my enemy for insight.

Balthazar, tumbling a hand through his messy, midnight-coloured hair, elaborated, "Well, this is certainly complicated for all of us. I'm not sure where I stand with the Sorcerer, but I can't ignore the implications of what this will bring. And word will get out. It's only a matter of time. The Omnisong was responsible for the Gallabritchie War. Not a colourful event I'd like to repeat anytime soon. Doralis, dear, you were there... surely this damnable event resonates with you the most?"

"Yes, I recall that dark time and I don't need the history lesson." I snapped.

Crimson-stained memories curdled in the forefront of my mind, and the herculean effort of not bursting from my seat and hiding in a cold, dark corner was something I found myself intently focusing on, both hands gripping the edge of my chair.

"No. But your little sister wasn't around, was she? She was still a seedling, sleeping peacefully in the groves of where you were born. How lucky she was, to be a spirit without a body, an innocent soul untouched by the war. I'm saying this... because Anixae is part of the new generation of Magic Bloods. She's not familiar with that part of our history. After what happened at Gallabritchie... we put the Omnisong away and nobody had to hear that terrible war song again."

"War song?" Anixae asked, faint curiosity threaded in her voice.

I shook my head at her, imploring her to forget this horrible subject, my jade eyes softening in despair. I didn't want to get into the specifics of it, but my enemy was already opening his mouth, preparing for another explanation.

Rizzaget, too, had begun to fade into another dimension within his mind, scratching his closely shaven beard. He shrugged as Balthazar answered my sister with another horrendous detail of my past, "The Omnisong isn't what you think it is. A trinket? No, baby Dryad. It's a vessel of power. Incredible, immutable power that was entrusted to the guild of Sorcerers quite an eon ago. It typically takes the form of a harp, but it can also shape-shift into any object when the 'Angitho' – the Master Sorcerer of the guild – wills it to... And if you're ever unfortunate enough to hear the war song... my dear, just know that you will be summoned into battle by whoever wields the Omnisong instrument."

"Wait – Are you saying that anyone... Anyone, not just the Angitho can play the Omnisong?" Anixae asked him.

Rizzaget and Balthazar nodded solemnly together. I stared blankly at the walls, trying not to shiver as I felt my hands drift onto my lap, the past colliding with the present as I remembered distant lands, ravaging war parties and burning cities. It was a long time ago, when flakes of ash had swept the skies as I fled down rocky mountain slopes, every step rigged with conscientious looks over my shoulder and heart-rending gasps. It was a time of terror and cold, aching bones – the need to evade capture and treat everyone around me like a blight the only thing keeping me alive.

I had been wild. I had been hopelessly savage; a hapless, tree-spirit hybrid that preferred pelts to human clothes, and I'd bathed in rivers, living unrefined and farther out from my Dryad community than was expected. I hadn't even begun to speak with actual, physical language back then.

Humanity hadn't learnt of our existences either. We'd been monstrous myths and bedtime stories for little children, nothing more to the fanciful mortals who lorded over large territories of land... and then they’d started digging for iron and then...

And then one day someone began exploring in a dark tomb, and their incessant digging awoke the Omnisong–

I sat up, snapping back into the conversation, my eyes levelled on the Sorcerer.

"Galadryn doesn't need the Omnisong. She's not going to start a war. But I think I know where she went with it and why she's hidden the Omnisong. Either to stop a new war from starting or to blackmail the Orcs somehow. She came back from Truske Mhordale recently, but she wouldn't disclose how she got through the Deadwalk Passage." I offered.

Rizzaget's green mist flooded the room as he stood up and walked over to a glassless window. I willed my snappy plants away from the exterior of the building, giving him an unobstructed view of Blackswallow City. Hollering merchants stood outside their small shops, bursting with energy and vibrant smiles. The scent of magic and food slithered into the room, brought in by a rush of chirpy, refreshing air.

We all drew deep breaths into our lungs and processed my words as light and sound weaved in harmony around us, each new sensation a pleasant distraction.

But it was the continuous buzzing of Rizzaget's mist that kept me on edge; it crackled with forks of lightning all throughout the room like an ethereal storm... and then, as if he'd reigned in his mood, the limey haze bunched around his lower legs, swirling over his demeanour like an insidious perfume.

"Kromstark will expect me to kill her." The Sorcerer supplied, clasping his hands behind his back.

Anixae bolted from her seat. "Don't you dare, Sorcerer! Can you not just scry for information instead of condemning Galadryn at the earliest opportunity? There is justification – I am sure of it. My sister never does anything without a good reason. Doralis? Tell them!"

I felt my chair rock. Her hands were tipping it, trying to force me into motion. Had I become placid? But my face and my voice... they'd frozen.

Balthazar's unwitting stare beamed into the side of my face, the tip of his left wing flaring slightly and scraping the top of my shoulder, as if to get my attention.

Turning, I looked at him. "What do you want, Dragon?" I projected my voice into his mind using our newly formed tether.

I loathed the very presence of it – this tangible claw that sat in my soul, bearing down on my own magic like a second heartbeat. But it was a tool to be used, was it not?

A tool that I’d just utilised to speak to him, I rationalised grudgingly.

His smooth voice, sardonic as always, was feather-light in its entry as he replied into the cavern of my mind, "You didn’t mention that your sister visited Truske Mhordale."

"And I would share that information willingly because... Oh, yes. According to the world, we are in bed with each other? Is that what you're thinking?"

"In all the ways that matter, yes. The world sees us as playmates. Aggressors and defenders of each other. Maybe that's what bothers you so much, hmm? Your name is so closely affiliated with the name of Adalantra's High King and it grates on your nerves... Or perhaps you just want to be in my real bed?"

I sighed aloud, pinching my nose bridge at the lusty images he purposely delivered into my mind. They were fiery. Erotic. Too raunchy for the likes of me.

Bedsheets crinkled, pillows placed under my hips while his vigorous figure thrusts from behind me; Rosy cheeked, I’m screaming in ecstasy and joy while he plays his hand through my mossy curls, pulling my head back while the other delves between my legs...

I'd never...

Could never ever act like that.

I swatted those images away before I could let him realize that such things were indeed beyond my realm of possibility as I'd yet to even lose my maidenhead.

Galadryn, Anixae and I weren't ignorant of such things – to romance, intimacy and physical pleasures or bodily urges, but we'd willingly abstained from such nonsense throughout our entire lives.

Living in nature, away from most of humanity and the population of male Magic Bloods had almost dulled our instinctual urges to explore these experiences like most Magic Blood females.

Anixae's high-pitched voice broke into my mental conversation with Balthazar just then, and we turned as one, glimpsing the other life-bonded pair over by the window. They were bickering like children, threats and insults hurled like snowballs at one another as they took steps into each other's personal space.

I didn't like where this was going. Standing up, I went to intervene, but the Dragon took my arm and said, "Let the tether sort it out. They can't harm each other... much."

"That's not a promising endorsement, Balthazar. I don't want my sister hurt at all. He can still put her in a state of unawakening!"

"Yes, and I can still mute any pain she feels, so that you can shatter his knees whenever you feel like it. As I said, let the tether sort out their life-bond. It is too chaotic in here."

My lip curled at his words. "Why should I even listen to you? You life-bonded us without my permission, you insidious prick! Did you think that I would just forget?"

The Warlord got to his feet and gave me his back, flexing his shoulder muscles as he moved swiftly to the door, the dark fog on his clothes moving like thousands of ants. At the doorway, he gave me a haughty look and replied in a tone that was as chilling as ice on my spine, "Oh, I hope you will remember this for the rest of your days. What is it the humans say? Something like... Till death do us part, I believe."

And then the damn male was striding out of the apothecary. I didn't follow him, but I couldn't stay here either.

I'd come back and check on Rizzaget and my sister later. I didn't think Rizzaget would allow Anixae to die; Balthazar was right. He needed us too much to get to Galadryn.

I didn’t sense the Dragon outside when I headed into the market place. He’d gone back to his own city. I felt his complete absence from Blackswallow. Our tether was vibrating with crushing certainty as I walked around, trying to calm my thoughts.

What could I do on my own? Nothing. I was on my own in a city that was empty of friends and tittering with endless distractions, none of which held a candle to my wandering eye. Rizzaget had also ‘misappropriated’ all of my valuables while I’d been unconscious, never once mentioning them, so I figured that he’d either tossed them out or kept them for himself.

It was closer to midday when my stomach finally began to grumble. No rucksack, no weapons and now I was life-bonded to a Dragon Faerie. These were my dilemmas… I couldn’t even get back to the cottage within a day of travel and the thought hit me harder than I expected. Not to mention, my eldest sister was currently in the wind, and she’d stolen a weapon of mass destruction.

Why had she done something so dishonourable? The answer wasn’t something I could fathom in any upstanding capacity…

When Galadryn had first returned from her trip two moons ago, I hadn’t asked too many questions about Truske Mhordale – other than the ones regarding her seemingly unharmed journey through Deadwalk Passage. It was well known that any Magic Blood, particularly ones that weren’t Orc-related, almost never made it out of that place… without great risk to themselves or significant payment, that is.

My rumbling belly had seen to it that I’d grabbed for her satchel of skinned animal meats first and then we’d all agreed to hunt in different areas, closer to the Faerie cities. Our conversations of late had been quiet, dimmed and elusive. Full of timid emotions and dreariness.

Guilt staggered across my wretched soul as I collapsed by the fountain bench. I’d failed her. I’d failed Anixae, too.