You're The Only One - Prinxiety [COMPLETED]

Chapter Ten: Beach Brawl

Virgil scowled as he looked out at the bustling beach. A chilly sea breeze tussled his dark hair, which was hanging in front of his eyes as it usually did. He felt goosebumps rise on his arms under the thin sleeves of his black shirt. It wasn't cold, but in the shadow of the cliff, the cool winds hit differently. 

His jaw clenched as he heard another dragon's roar. It wasn't pained, but the strain in it indicated discomfort, anger, or anxiety. Virgil had been hearing it all day as the kingdoms in alliance with Sun Glade set up their tents and make-shift stables for the dragons they brought with them to compete. He'd been watching everyone closely; so far, nothing had been too bad when it came to the other dragons, though he really wished he could interfere with many of the operations.

The stable boy's eyes drifted to a corral with an Obsidian-Shelled Drake. The beast looked miserable, its snout closed with a rope that was tied to one of the posts. It had more ropes around its neck and legs. Its eyes were half closed and it was laying in the sand with seemingly no will to stand. 

Virgil felt his heart pang. Obsidian-Shelled Drakes were Water Dwellers and were commonly sound in tide pools and caves; the fact that it was miserable on a beach of all places said volumes about how it was treated.

He tore his eyes away from it, not being able to bare looking at it for too long. He felt completely helpless. Virgil was the Champion of Sun Glade, but that definitely didn't give him authority.

The presence of another person suddenly appeared next to him. He barely glanced toward the newcomer, knowing already who it was. "How'd you even find me in all this chaos, your Highness?" he asked in a monotone voice. 

"Roman, please, and simple," the prince began. "I simply looked for the one part of the beach that seemed still, and there you were, brooding by the cliff."

He huffed a little, turning his head away from the royal. Roman frowned at this. "What's wrong?"

"What do you think, Princey?" he found himself snapping. He turned his glare on him, causing the other boy to blink in shock at its intensity. "Those dragons... they're being mistreated. They don't have to be hitting them to be abusing them. They're either scared, angry, or both. It's absolutely infuriating that people think that it's okay to treat these intelligent and beautiful creatures like this."

Roman blinked a few times at the stable boy, who seemed to realize he'd just snapped at the next heir to the throne. He quickly ducked his head and shuffled back a little out of fear. "I'm sorry- my apologies- I shouldn't have- sorry-"

"What? You shouldn't have spoken your mind?" the prince countered. "I'm not offended, Virgil. You're allowed to be yourself around me, even if it means cursing out other dragon trainers."

"They're not dragon trainers," he muttered.

The other boy put his hands up and shook his head. "Okay, they're not," he said in agreement. "At least, from my limited experience with them, I can say that they don't look like they're training them but rather 'breaking' them like horses or something."

Virgil said nothing. He was too busy staring off at a dragon a few yards away. It was being lead by several men holding ropes, and they appeared to have the situation under control. However, the prince blinked and suddenly one of them was on the ground bleeding and the dragon was rearing up onto its hind legs. The stable boy's eyes widened and he quickly started sprinting toward the commotion.

"Virgil?! What are you doing?!" Roman called after him, fear spiking through him as he followed.

He didn't receive a reply as Virgil was now only a few feet away from a very large dragon that clearly belonged to the Sky Striker kingdom. He had stopped on the edge of the circle that had cleared around them. The three remaining men were struggling to hold the beast, pulling on the ropes as their companion wailed in pain. Roman felt his stomach twist with nausea at the sight of the man's mauled arm. 

The stable boy stood at the ready in front of the dragon as he analyzed it. It was an Albawing, one of the largest dragons ever recorded. Its wingspan was massive and its eyes were extremely sensitive to light and colors. It had blinders on its eyes that were bright red, preventing it from looking in its peripherals. 

Colors, right, he thought as adrenaline pumped through his veins. They're not a fan of bright colors, because they live in misty and shrouded environments on mountaintops that don't get direct exposure to sunlight. They're more active at night too.

He frowned with determination. "DROP THE ROPES!"

"Are you insane?! Besides, he gets like this sometimes! We've got it handled!!" one of the men replied roughly as he yanked on his rope. 

"Ask your friend bleeding out over there if he feels the same," Virgil retorted, glaring daggers at him. They noticed their friend and the other two paled. The one that had argued with him looked uncertainly back at the dragon. "Drop the ropes and I'll make sure no one else gets hurt."

They looked among each other and then did as he ordered. They backed into the crowd and gave him and the dragon space. 

"Okay buddy, it's just you and me now," he said, tilting his head. The dragon whipped his head around in an attempt to lock onto him, the blinders making it difficult and quite possibly painful for him. Virgil felt anger resurface but pushed it down as he pulled off his shirt. It was black, and given that the Albawing was mostly nocturnal, it would help sooth him to give him something dark to focus on; plus the shirt had the scent of other dragons and treats. "You're gonna be okay."

The dragon whimpered pitifully and ducked his head, spraying a bit of sand as he writhed around. "Shh..." he cooed, taking hold of his head gently not to startle him with his touch. He worked the blinders off and tossed them aside. 

"I've got you," Virgil told him as he met his gorgeous blue eyes. They looked strained and watery, making him hold up the shirt he'd removed. "Here, to sooth those irritated eyes."

He tied the shirt over them gently. Though blinded, the Albawing calmed significantly. It was clear that the black shirt was cool and comforting for his eyes after the red blinders and sunlight. The stable boy ran his fingers over his head and around his snout, earning grateful rumbles from the giant creature. 

It was after a moment of silence that Virgil remembered he had an audience. He turned to the stunned crowd of dragon 'trainers' that were staring at him. He set his jaw and straightened his back. 

"This dragon needs to be taken somewhere shaded. His kind is mostly nocturnal, which is why he reacted so negatively to your blinders," he told the men who had been moving him sternly. "They have incredibly sensitive eyes. They aren't meant to process bright colors from that close of a distance. You could damage his eyes."

The men looked too shocked to reply and simply nodded and began to lead the dragon toward the part of the beach that was more shaded by the cliff. The rest of the crowd parted for Virgil as he began his walk back to the royal stables, wanting to get a new shirt. 

Roman stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. "How did you do that?" he asked in a breathless voice. "That was incredible."

He felt himself flush; he was incredibly aware of the prince's hand on his bare skin. He swallowed and met his eyes. "It just comes with practice and developing an understanding that they're living creatures," he explained. "These people have to learn that if they want to train these dragons properly."