Chapter thirteen

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Ysme Pendragon was not one to pace. In fact she cut off herself off from fear or restlessness. She hated the idea of her kingdom watching her panic. She hated how she had last spoken to Alys, she knew it was wrong. She would never have actually given her sister away to such beasts. It was Alys she had failed to inform before the ball. Now she was headlong in a mess Ysme wanted nothing more than to draw her sister from.

Ysme strode to the lock box resting in the middle of her desk, inside resting on the soft velvet cushion was the silver mask Alys had carelessly tosses across the floor that horrid night.

"My queen," Ysme whipped qround. "What?!" She demanded.  It was Oliver, a newer man in her court. He was scrawny, his neck to long for his body and his hair flattened against his face. Leather strips where braided into his black locks, their vibrant colors match the cloud dragon mask plastered across his sharp cheek bones.

"Pardon my intrusion." He bowes his head flashing his sharp teeth. "There has been a message back from the dragons. From the traitor." His voice is too high, Ysme hated everything about him.

"From who?!" Ysme tried not to bite, with Alys gone most in the keep had begun calling her a 'traitor' or 'the heir of dragons'. They had stolen that name from the story father always told me.

"From the princess. My apologies. Where shall I leave it?" He holds the scrappy piece of parchment, it's edges are charred, the ink smudged. "Give it to me and get out." She ordered. Oliver hands over the paper and vanishes through the door on the phantom breeze.

'Queen, I accept your request. I shall meet you tomorrow.
Heir of dragons.'

Ysme tried not to cackle, if only Alys wasn't such a fool. Ysme supposed Alys would know every dirty detail
Tomorrow. For now Ysme was tired and desperately wanted some sleep before she faced her sister.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Today has come to quick.
I am quaking like a fiddle string after it has been plucked. I am no longer sure I can step in to keep to meet with Ysme. I do not wish to leave the safely of the dragons territory but Rendroktheil insists that we must.

"Must we!" I moan as the two of us trudge towards the keep. "Sufficit! Enough Alys." Rendroktheil snarls. I stumble, a frightened shriek escapes me. I stare at Rendroktheil, eyes wild with fear. What have I done to make him upset? Or does this have something to do with the secret he and Opaskai have been keeping from me. Any goal to gain answers from him have escaped me, becoming the farthest thing from my mind.

Rendroktheil looks down at me, luminous green eyes wide and almost heartbroken. "Alys-" I wave him off averting my attention to the large fields we must cross. I quicken my step pushing on to further the distance between us. "Alys. Stultus essem. Forgive me, I meant not to shout." Rendroktheil attempts to pull me back with his tail. "Leave it. I have pushed you with my whining. I apologize. Leave it now." I answer continuing ahead of him. I can hear his sigh of utter defeat, perhaps I have no right to push him away but I wish not to be scared of the first creature to have shown me kindness before I face my sister. 

Our walk becomes quiet for a long while, Rendroktheil simply trots behind me, his head hanging close above mine. The walls of the keep come closer, we can even see the fort below the keep but I stop. Where are the guards of the keep? There are no sentries on watch.
Their helmets flash in the early sun, always.

"What is it Alys?" Rendroktheils tail coils close to my body. His wings ripple as he stretches them out, making himself appear even larger than he already is. "There are no guards on the walls. There are always guards on the wall. There are shifts. Ysme wouldn't be foolish enough to leave the keep unguarded." I explain to him. Rendroktheil nods. "It is a trap. If we turn now we will lead them into dragon territory. Come Alys, but stay close."

Rendroktheil takes a step towards the keep when something pierces the air with a low wistling sound.

"Alys!" Rendroktheils wings cocoon me, protecting me from what threat rises. I hear the battle cries of of men stain the air, combated by Rendroktheils war shriek. He rises to his back legs, wings outstretched and talons out. His tail remains around my body for protection. I am distracted by the invisible warriors to realize his scales pierce my skin.

"Alys. Curre! Run!" He shrieks striking out at the first guards to advance. I throw myself towards the keep, sure footed but rigid with fear. I don't get far from rendroktheil before before steep encloses my wrists and I'm yanking backwards and to the earth. I'm turned onto my stomach and forced to my knees to watch my friend be pinned beneath a Razor netting. He shouts in pain.

"Rendroktheil! No!"  I shriek only to gain a sword handle to the gut. I fall foreword, my forehead in the dirt. "Alys!" He shouts. Our eyes meet and I can see his terror. He fears he has failed me. And he fears death. "Let him go! Let him go!" I demand. The guards chuckle grabbing me under the arms and begin I drag me from my friend, towards the stone walls of my past home.

"Alys!" Rendroktheil cries. His voice strained and desperate. "Rendroktheil!" I sob. I can not save him! He's going to die because of me. No, not me, Ysme. When I get my hands on that little brat I am the last thing she is going to see.

I watch Rendroktheils struggling form fade into the distance as the walls of the keep rise to swallow me. The courtyard is quiet, a few patrols of guards but no sign of the dragon hunters that have been training them. My heels split as the guards drag me across the stone into the keep. Little cuts and scratches kiss my skin, they sting but I ignore the pain.

They turn down individual halls in turn making their way to an all to familiar hall. The great hall. Ysme rests on her throne, the crown of horns draped in strands of blood red cloth. Mother stands hidden in the shadows of the deep red curtains surrounding Ysmes throne. When the guards drop me to my Knees in front of the stairs I stare at the ground.

"Hello, sister." Ysme muses from her seat. I lounge back on my bloody, burning heels, tipping my head to the side to see her through my hair and begin to laugh, a dark heartless sound I learned from her. The sound bounces off the cold stone walls and echoes back obviously disturbing the guards standing on either side of the room and at my side. I continue to cackle allowing my head to fall backwards to gasp for air.

Rolling my gaze back to Ysme I lazily grin. I am almost shocked that Ysme actually looks mildly disturbed too. She opens her mouth to speak. "You have killed my friend, killed men after you had them hunt me, used me for your own personal prize, and you have stolen my throne. Yet still you find yourself able to call me sister?"  I scoff. "You repel me."

Ysme rises from her throne, she sneers as she strides down the stairs to stand before me. She gets on her knees in my face and grabs my chin. "I haven't killed your beloved dragon." She growls in my ear  before releasing my face and returning to her feet." "Leave us."

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