The Raven Flame [The Crown Saga III] (First Draft)

Swaying Contours

"I'm sorry, Will," Alia said, dropping her hands to her lap in defeat. "I don't dare heat the ring more than that without risking your skin. I don't think it's pure glass."

I stared maliciously at the transparent ring, the dim light from the golden vein stretching inside the cave passing right through the structure as if nothing was there, the background barely distorted. Only shadow revealed its existence, and the oval stone glinting playfully at me from the peak of its surface.

Plan A had failed. Although Alia seemed to be doing much better after an uninterrupted night's sleep, refreshed and completely unscathed from the horrors of the past day, she hadn't been able to form even a small dent in the flawless design.

Not glass. What else could it be?

"He wasn't always like this, you know," Alia added, sighing as she shifted her weight back to lean on the heels of her hands. "Calix, I mean."

I didn't answer her. I had no particular interest in Tarkan's past. Nothing that could be said would be enough to excuse his sickening behavior, not even if the moon and stars begged me to reconsider.

"He was once a really kind and considerate kid. He even used to follow Caiden and me around like our shadow, always attempting to mimic Caiden's small gestures and manners.

"He used to hate it, believing Calix purposely did it to mock him, but I think Calix just really looked up to his big brother. And all summer long, he would make a big deal out of gathering flowers from Adeena's garden, only to ask a gardener for help assembling a presentable bouquet—one for their mother and one for Eos. He did that daily for years and never became better at picking matching colors or shapes."

Alia laughed softly, her eyes misty with fond memories. I stopped fiddling with the uncompromising ring as I slowly became lost in her absurd tale of an innocent boy whose heart had yet to freeze over.

"He was a real crybaby, too. Whenever Caiden confronted or turned him away, he would fall back and cry until Caiden eventually gave in to Calix's demands. He even cried when Eos—as a baby—once tossed his carefully crafted bouquet out of a window."

I sat motionless, my mind twisting to imagine Tarkan's juvenile face with tears streaming down his cheeks after a heartless rejection from an infant. It was impossible. I couldn't for the life of me imagine that stone-hearted man shedding a single tear, let alone over something as trivial as a few flowers.

Alia's smile suddenly faded, and a different mist of bleakness settled across her eyes. She shifted forward, pulling her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms tightly around them.

"We were all affected when Queen Pangea disappeared without warning, but Calix broke. Eos was too young to understand, and Caiden found peace by burying himself in training and royal duties. Calix had no such distraction.

"I never saw him cry again after that day. He never attempted to act as Caiden's shadow again or set foot in Adeena's garden. He became cold and distant. It wasn't until his power emerged half a year later that he finally found a slippery anchor to cling to, but he never became the same again."

Alia exhaled a flustered breath, brushing a hand through her tangled locks. Arok may have healed her wounds, but blood and dirt still clung to her clothes and hair, the colors mixed into a shade bearing a striking resemblance to the clay soil surrounding us.

"I couldn't even venture a decent guess as to what occupies his thoughts these days," Alia added, spreading the stain on her cheek in a failed attempt to wipe it off. "Naturally, I expected him to have outgrown the innocent child I remember—we all have—but I would never have even thought to consider how far he has strayed from the path of plain civility. I'm no saint, I know that, but I still—"