Kapitel 15: Chapter 15 - War Council
I approached the water's edge, where Soileen was bent over the lake, her hands rhythmically plunging garments beneath the crystalline surface. The laughter of children at play wove through the encampment.
I rolled up my sleeves, eager to immerse my hands in the cool liquid that promised a brief escape from my troubles.
"Let me help you with that," I offered, reaching for a sodden shirt that lay on the grassy bank.
Soileen straightened up, wiping a strand of wet hair from her forehead as she eyed me skeptically. "Isn't it beneath you?"
"My time is running out," I finally admitted, breaking my uncharacteristic quietude. "Salacia will not wait forever for my answer, and Edward..." I trailed off, my gaze lingering on the distant horizon as if I might find him there. "He could be plotting something."
"Edward is not a plotter," Soileen countered, shaking her head as she wrung out a tunic with force. "He has the heart of a lion and the brain of a sheep. He goes wherever his foolish love for Neptune leads him."
"Even now when he's dead?"
Soileen paused, her hands stilling in the water. "Mila, you know better than that."
I felt both the weight of impending decisions and the fleeting touch of an affection soaked in the waters from beyond the grave.
***
The scent of simmering broth and roasted venison filled the air as I sat, picking at the wooden bowl before me, my appetite lost to the gnawing unease in my gut. Rhona's tent flapped open and a shadow fell across my meal.
"Mila," she beckoned with a voice that commanded attention despite its softness. "Join me."
I rose, leaving behind the laughter and chatter of the encampment's midday reprieve. The tent was dimly lit, the air thick with the fragrance of incense and aged parchment. Rhona's presence was like a boulder in a stream; everything flowed around her with deference.
"I have not the patience for games, Rhona," I said, my fingers brushing over the talisman around my neck—a reminder of the deal I had struck.
I found it at the shores of the city and knew the diamond belonged to me. Salacia was reminding me of my oath to her.
"Salacia waits on my word, and Edward has vanished from this plain."
"Captain Kinsley is not so easily sidestepped. Do you think he would leave his dragon unguarded?" Rhona's eyes were sharp, like shards of obsidian.
"His dragon?" I replied. "Against a divine celestial such as myself, he stands no chance."
"Ah," Rhona murmured, reaching for a collection of jars and pouches. "Your advisor, did she tell you where dragons come from when she sent you here to carve one out for your brother?"
I swallowed around the lump in my throat. This woman was dangerous. Like an old bark of a tree collecting memories in her skin over the course of centuries, she knew more than anybody, because she had seen things most people did not.
Vectra would always be the Assigner's servant, but my foolish heart wanted to believe she was my friend as well.
I hesitated, watching as she crushed leaves between her palms, releasing a pungent, earthy aroma. "I know they are rare creatures, not necessarily native to these lands."
"Dragons are far more than rare," Rhona corrected, selecting herbs with deliberate care. She chose velnroot for clarity of mind, whisperwillow to ease anxiety, and nightbloom to heighten senses. Each had a purpose as she stirred them into a pot of boiling water. "They are not born. They do not hatch, nor do they grow from fledglings. Dragons... are created."
"Created?" I echoed, taking the cup of tea she offered. The steam rose in dancing tendrils, carrying the potent blend of herbal properties to my nostrils. My skepticism mingled with curiosity as the warmth of the cup seeped into my palms.
"With magic?" I pressed, the warmth of the tea failing to quell the chill that crept up my spine.
"Magic, yes, you could say magic is involved. But also intent and purpose. Power demands understanding. And your little hatchling," she gestured a dismissive hand, "might just be more than a mere beast to slay."
I set my cup down, the liquid half-forgotten, my thoughts swirling like the steam above it. A muscle twitched in my jaw.
"Regardless," I found myself saying, my voice steely with conviction, "they are not immortal, and my brother is. Once Bonnie dies, Areilycus will die with her."
Rhona leaned back, the wolf pelts underneath her shifting. "Your fate is not to be subdued by the Great Demon."
"This world has its own protector, its own Assigner, Queen Salacia. What is your argument with Tripolis' Patron?"
"He is not of your world. And he ventured into mine a long time ago. It's what he does, he worms his way into the hearts of men, gives hollow promises and bargains, the jester of death."
"You want to defeat him? Take his life?"
"Don't you?"
I paused. Her words settled on me like a mantle, heavier than any royal cloak, laden with implications I hadn't dared to entertain.
Except I did.
I had dreams where I killed the bastard and ruled the White City with … Ari. By my side.
"He cannot be killed," I said instead.
"You are wrong."
She said it like it was nothing. Like she had been thinking of nothing else for the past century, or perhaps longer. I only wanted to save my brother and this woman was beckoning me to start a conflict.
Except … It wasn't her who started it. It was him. He sent Ari into the storm, knowing it might kill him. Just to prove he could.
"The dragon," I said.
"She will grow and grow fast. Dragons are immortal, Milada. Just not in the way you think."
"You're worse than Vectra," I accused. She gave me a crooked smile, her wizened bottom lip shrinking.
"Dragon fire melts stars," she said.
And I could not imagine our city in the stars ever burning.
But I could imagine the White Snake burning. So clearly it terrified me.
***
My brother always found easy camaraderie with the rest of the Sensitives. His non-combatant nature and easy confidence attracted my siblings.
I hated that word. Easy.
It was meaningless and incredibly grating. He was born to be the leader of men and I was born to do nothing but absorb the Diamond Storm that was so toxic he couldn't stand to be around me for several rotations.
Volmira was weaving a crown of leaves from the tall grass outside the encampment for Ros' horns. They were laughing, joking, being east while Areilycus spun strings of sunshine with his fingers.
The rays fell upon the earthly soil of this world and Ari molded them like solid gold with his power, making them dance in flower patterns, interrupting the photosynthetic process for fun.
"Sister," Ros invited me to sit next to him in the grass, patting the place that contained no mud.
"What are you all up to?" I crossed my legs, reaching for the leaf crown Volmira had spun and putting it on my too small head.
"Catching up," Ari said. The sun bent to his will, the rays wrapping around my shoulders on his command.
I was always cold on Tripolis. Not so much on this planet.
"Yes, the Captain that we are all eagerly awaiting to return, what do you make of him, Milada?"
I shrugged. What did I make of Edward Kinsley other than everything I saw in myself? He's chaotic, attached, a little insane.
"He is a man of action," I said instead. "I do not think that betraying him is something the guardians of life should entertain."
"We are not the guardians of this world, the oath does not bind us," Rosum said. Always the strategic, the most reasonable.
"Tell us what you really think," Ari said in that tone that would make me destroy three planets three times over if it meant pleasing him.
"Well," I stuttered. "If we give Salacia what she wants and grant her the legs she so yearns for, it is not a stretch to assume she will destroy the port city. This entire tribe with it, probably."
"But we get to keep Bonnie," Ros argued. "You have broken a dozen of Father's laws in order to save our brother's life, you're saying it was all for nothing?"
The corners of my mount twisted upwards. "Don't tell me you are determined to return to Tripolis with our brother alive. Surely, that was not the instruction the Assigner sent you here with?"
Rosum was the guardian of logic and wisdom. His nature was to always follow the most logical path. Emotion was not a factor in his decision-making process. Even if it meant sacrificing innocent lives, he did not see it that way.
Rosum saw killing as preserving order if killing would restore order. 'Some mortals will not be told,' he said during the First Mountain War on Tripolis. Even when I offered to absorb the chaos of the war, Rosum ruled that killing the instigators of the conflict would return the planet to peace.
Our father sided with him instead of me.
"I am determined to return with the hatchling," Rosum said. "Vectra mentioned that such power belongs in the city of Millenia."
"I'm sure she fucking did," I muttered.
"What do you mean?" Volmira asked. Whenever a conflict was brewing, her senses sharpened and her powers diminished. It made her feel useless and helpless.
"The witch mother told me that dragon fire melts stars."
Just when my siblings' mouths dropped open, Bonnie half-stumbled, half-flew towards us. She was still too small to make strides with her hind legs and too underdeveloped for her wings to take to the skies, so she did both, poorly.
I swear if I didn't hate that fucking dragon, we'd be best friends.
Everyone I met so far on this planet was like a mirror I would much rather smash than keep.
Bonnie nestled on Ari's lap as she did.
"What do you mean …" Rosum trailed off. It was a feat to catch him unawares. One empty point to me.
"It melts the stars," I repeated. "The witch has some sort of unresolved business with the Assigner. I think she is trying to use us to fight it for her."
"If only you didn't hate Father so much," Volmira scoffed. "She would not have stood a chance in convincing you."
"He tried to kill Areilycus. You are all fools if you think we are not next," I argued, disguising my true feelings under the banner of logic when all I felt was fire that needed to be let out at the bastard who tried to take my other half from me.
"He would not …" Rosum stumbled over his words again. He admired the White Snake deeply. He killed on his orders senselessly, mercilessly. Betrayal did not make sense.
I was not going to tell my big brother that sometimes life did not make sense. There was no order or logic to the way chaos inside mortals, hell, inside Sensitives, manifested.
He never cared to learn about my power, he never even respected it. He saw me as a sponge, a very useful sponge, but sponge nonetheless.
Vectra used to say: Who's gonna tell him?
Volmira cringed. "If we go to war with him for a mere possibility he might get rid of us, it would be carnage. Tripolis would be destroyed."
"We will move the people permanently. They have means to stay off-planet, they are not a backward civilization like Valorians. They can find a new home; we will find a new home for them," I suggested.
"You are determined to destroy him," Rosum said.
Determined? No. I am not determined because I cannot be sure it can be done.
But I want to try.
"I want us to prevail. Self-preservation is what drives me. The fact Vectra asked you to bring the dragon back to Millenia with you only confirms my suspicions and the witch's words. Dragons are a threat to the Assigner's realm. He lives in the stars. Bonnie can melt them."
As if to agree with me, the little dragon sneezed.
Dammit. She was adorable.
Ari petted her scales. Only now I realized they changed colors. There is so much we didn't know yet.
"I … I cannot be a part of this treasonous conversation," Rosum said, rising to his feet.
Volmira ran after him.
Ari whispered something into Bonnie's mini ears upon which she hopped away, back to the encampment.
And we were alone.
So alone I never wanted to leave this bubble of solitude with him. So alone I could stay here, in this field of tall grass with him for another thousand years.
"I don't want you to die," he told me.
"I don't intend to die," I said to him.
"But you will. We all will," he said. "There is no defeating him. You have not felt what I felt when I was fluctuating. He put that sickness inside me. The Diamond Storm is his creation."
Something inside me broke in twelve different places.
Like a glass ceiling that cracks once you punch it with enough force.
"What?"
Areilycus buried his head in his hands. "He is the one crippling the planet with the storm. It is a product of his manipulation with the atmosphere of Tripolis."
I stood up. He followed.
"How could you not tell me?"
"Because you would have rebelled far sooner and destroyed yourself. I will not see you die, I will sooner pull the stars from the sky and extinguish life in the universe."
The tall grass swayed gently around me, a sea of green undulating with the whims of the wind. And there he was, my twin, Areilycus, moving through it like a creature born from the very essence of nature itself. With each deliberate crawl, his presence seemed to command the elements, and I knew why — Areilycus was more than my mirror image; he was the sun god, the lord of light whose touch awakened the dormant life within the earth.
Within me.
His eyes, twin flames in the afternoon glow, found mine, and the world faded into the background.
His lips pressed against mine—a kiss that held the warmth of the sun's caress, a promise of the divine connection we shared.
He laid me on my back amidst the whispering grass. I felt the weight of his love as he positioned himself above me.
He stripped away the garments the Vlachy had adorned me with, those trappings of a mortal life that seemed so distant now. His fingers trailed along my skin. I arched into his touch when he caressed my breast. A gasp escaped me when his tongue traced the line of my throat, marking a path of worship on my flesh.
I felt like a mortal woman who fell in love with a god.
Wöchentlicher Energiestatus
-- Power-
Rangliste 
-- Power-
Stein