The Night Rider

Chapter 10 - Watchtower

“You didn’t have to follow me out here y’know.”

Nivara could barely see the back of the gruffly spoken dragon against the storm. His scales were caked in mud, a slick film of rain still covered him yet the glow of his scales managed to cut through the night like a blitz of white flame. His tail began to twitch as if eager to use it against an unsuspecting Regent. But Nivara knew an act when she saw one.

Ethros, the Throneholder of Opalis was sulking.

Nivara ran round the last corner towards him before stopping to take in large gulps of air, her hands leaned against her legs as her back keeled forwards in exhaustion. She didn’t care about her demeanour, her Everchange cloak flapping in the wind alongside her soaked hair and rain streaked mask, sticky from the dirt and grime conjured up by the squall. It took every effort not to turn the corner towards her quarters away from the barely visible Watchtower and leave her search for another time but Ethros’ grief stricken features did more to her frozen heart than her own dragon ever could.

“I wanted to.” she said, after several minutes of weary silence.

The dragon let out a harrumph, not believing any of it. He sat closest to the horizon, overlooking the stormy skies without so much as a wince. Opalis was his home. Nivara knew why he was here. This was the best view of the city. Adorned by pillars of sleek arkalite marble, signifying the start of the Divide, the greatest Trait achievement since...since...well, Trait itself. No ounce of demonic or necromantic energy could exist beyond its walls and soon, every nation in Para Dormus had one. All because of his Oathed. His partner. His Throneholder.

“Ethros, please. Come inside out of the rain.” Nivara insisted, desperate to reach him after running so far.

“No.”

She sighed at his dismissal, giving her nothing to work with as always. She hated using the Oathed card but it was the only way to get some kind of response from the stubborn, old Novawraith. Running in a storm like this one was easy with enough practice but alongside the added bonus of a Lockbind curse? Near impossible.

“Aria wouldn’t want you to-”

“You have no idea what Aria would want! You threatened to kill people with their own Trait!” he roared, his head whipping around to meet Nivara face to face.

The cold embrace of the chill reminded him of exactly what he had lost and exactly who he had been left with instead. Nivara wasn’t his Regent. She was expendable. The Mist Maiden could see every emotion etched on his face like the thousands of scales adorning his pale body. The rainstorm swirled around her, attempting to force her down, away from her goal but she wasn’t having any of it. She fought against the storm as best she could, gripping the sleeves of her cloak ever tighter, sinking her feet into the mud despite its attempts to veer her off course.

“I had no choice! They were looking for you. I SAW how powerful those two were on their own, with the state you were in they could have killed you, Ethros!” she yelled back just as loud, barely being heard across the roar of the wind.

Ethros snorted with derision, barely acknowledging her argument, despite only seeing sections of it through memories and visions. He wasn’t there. He hadn’t seen the look in their eyes. He hadn’t been controlled because he could never be controlled. He only saw what he wanted to see. He wasn’t there when she needed him.

“So you used your life as sacrifice, is that it? You are our Regent, Nivara! Risking your life like that-”

Nivara scoffed in response, not letting him finish. She knew the contradictory words were cutting through her much more than any Lockbind ever could. She clutched her side, desperately trying to keep her balance despite the ache of her vow, amidst the anger running through her veins.