Kaianan Page 14

  “Principal Ree, please forgive my exploits becoming a nuisance to Congress. I did not desire the loss of controls on Felrin,” Dersji’s voice was full of mock. “I simply sought to free myself from unwanted and unnecessary restraint.”

  General Aradar gave him an elbowed nudge across the head.

  “In due time, Aradar, Brikin will be charged accordingly,” Prudence said sternly. “In the meantime, a new assignment has presented itself, and it involves the Felrin. Brikin, you have been advised of the Daem-Raal Relic?” The only known female Felrin to sit amongst the Principals in the history of Congress brushed her hand across the front of her tightly bound golden mane. She sat in the middle of Aige and Ree, and was by far the youngest looking of the lot.

  Her tighter chestplate and impeccable presentation suited the vain Felrin woman well, Dersji thought. He remembered her lighter side when she let her locks down and played Farcry with the rest of the Shiek. Her election to Congress changed her and her tight-lipped expression—full of smug poise and sarcastic smiles—only confirmed this for him. A part of him wanted to ask how she got the stick jammed so far up—then he thought the better of it. “I have been ill-advised, Principal.”

  “Ah. So, pray tell me, Aradar, why does Brikin not obtain the specifics of the Daem-Raal people and the Relic?” she asked disdainfully.

  “My Principal, I have sufficiently explained the state of affairs to Brikin. Unless there was a misunderstanding with my explanation?” He paused to leer at Dersji. “Brikin?”

  Aradar nudged Dersji for the second time.

  If Dersji had a Felrin coin for every time General Aradar beat him, he would be a very rich man. Fortunately, none of this actually hurt Dersji. Well—maybe just his pride. “No, no confusion. I may have been concussed the second time I was struck over the head.” He eyeballed the General and raised his eyebrows to the Principals. “Any chance of an onion to refresh my memory?”

  With a harsh stare toward Aradar, Prudence had heard enough. “You have no choice, Dersji. You remain a Liege Shiek whether or not your loyalties lie with the Felrin. You will carry out this mission as your heritage and birthright dictates. Maki Ryhad and Garen Lofar will accompany you in the recovery of the Relic and investigating his allegiance to the Daem-Raal people.”

  “Am I that conceited to be forced into the investigation of such a Relic? Compulsory or not, the Congress will be in my debt.”

  “Brikin, enough sport, seize the mission.” Prudence was cut off by the freckle-faced Aige. The Principal’s blue eyes narrowed, “I can sense your hesitation to look for a boy you previously believed dead, but if you are to find him and bring him back, he shall continue to be trained in Kan’Ging and become a Liege like his father and mother,” he began twitching. It was common knowledge the red-headed Liege took on a heavy burden. Initially, Dersji thought his burden was being the only ‘ranga’ or ‘dull redhead’ in Felrin. He liked teasing the man, it made for good laughs. However, upon their first meeting, Dersji’s mind was changed. Well, not entirely changed, he still teased him, but now he knew the significance of the Liege. Aige was gifted with premonitions, premonitions of future times, all accurate and all bad.

  So, partially out of fear, and partially not wanting to know whether you would be struck by illness next month and your legs would stop working, no-one got close to Aige. The only thing people knew was he was always right and Dersji hated knowing the Liege spoke only from a point of truth.

  “Damned if the child would survive such trials or have a sound mind to take on the mental endurance required. Principals, I believe it unwise to put the boy through anything but rehabilitation.” Dersji drifted his eyes to the lower bench. “Wouldn’t you agree, guests?”

  “Your insight and advice concern us little, and no-one else has authority to be swayed,” Ree admonished.

  Dersji frowned. “Then why is there a guest panel at all, Principal?”

  “We have other matters to be discussed once your fate has been decided.”

  “More significant than the Relic?” Dersji directed his question to Maya Atronix, who let out a slight breath of fear. “What am I missing here, Principal? I sense death and pain, yet I do not see the origin of it. Pray, tell me I am being utilised for the right job at the right—” Dersji tried to finish but Ree cut across him.

  “Brikin, the less you know the better. All you have to do is listen and do what you’re told.”

  “I say, then, how are we coming along with that onion?”

  Principal Ree rolled his eyes and looked to Aradar for support. “General, be gone with him and assemble the Liege. They embark at dawn.”

  Chapter Eight: The Divide of a Prince

  “What have you done? Why did you go into battle? You’ve exposed the Silkri Drake, I need you alive … and did I hear whispers you let her escape, Addi?”

  Prince Addi reddened in nervousness. His father, King Elli Nermordis was interrogating him with the most malevolent red eyes he’d ever seen. He regarded the old man’s thick, wrinkly grey skin being pulled about by his frustrated expression and gulped. Preservation of the Silkri Drakes wasn’t Addi’s concern, he wanted to be out in the field of duty—the complete opposite to his father.

  “I am unaware …” he began, fretfully fidgeting with his tunic and black robe, “I mean … Father … sir … I was not ousted, I promise you, and I am unaware of how the Giliou Shielder got a hold of her and ‘ported out … they are gone now. Isn’t that enough?”

  Addi ran his fingers through his hair, going over the night’s events: escaping to Layos against orders, having Akki follow him, saving Kaianan from Nake, then saving her from death…

  There was no way his father would have known of his contact with the princess, there were no witnesses, and Nake and Krivta were still in Layos. He was confident he was in the clear. “We have control of Layos and the Swamp Lands now.” His voice became confident. “All we must fight for is Forsda, and if the Giliou Queen has been ordered to stay out of the duel by the Felrin, why must we worry about some Princess?”

  Addi paused and waited, was he exposed and found out? What would he do to protect himself? He knew the Heir Library in the Sile Mansion like the back of his hand. He looked around. A high black ceiling with suede grey walls enclosed the room full of ancient books about Silkri and Rivalex history and defining moments in the existence of the Drake. Maybe there was a good way out?

  “Future king, you are ineffectual in your words,” the older Nermordis hissed through gritted teeth. “The Rivalex Mark is a part of the prophecy and must be apprehended or terminated, regardless of whether we hold all of Rivalex under the Sile governance. This will be your blight after mine, young dictator. Have I taught you nothing? We need the presence of the Holom Galaxy to rock the universe, create a ripple so we can take over, so we can disrupt the Felrin. Don’t be foolish enough to leave the matter undone.”

  Addi breathed out, thankful he’d gotten away with it. “Father, she is nothing but a deluded juvenile, and she will be child’s play when I find her.”

  He heard his father swear under his breath.

  “Mark my words, boy. If you do not do this, I will send your cousin to finish the job.”

  Addi’s nerves got the better of him. “I will do this, Father! Do not get Akki involved. You want her head? I’ll give it to you, I promise.” His voice flowed out of his mouth in a reassuringly aggressive manner. He watched his father—his eyes scanning around the room looking at the bleak furniture and dust that settled on the objects in the Heir Library—nod in acceptance.

  “Very well, not another word on the matter.” Elli breathed out. “This is to go unrecorded and off the Felrin Congress’s radar for now. Do you understand, boy?”

  Addi understood and felt the fear spinning in him. His stomach clenched. Everyone knew his father, one of the last traditional Silkri Drakes, was a callous man capable of great torture, especially to those with hearts led by individual conscience. He tried wholeheartedly
not to imagine the ramifications if he failed.

  He nodded while his father headed back to the meeting being held in the Onyx Office.

  “Do not make a mess,” Elli said at the door frame. “We already have intel on her location. I’ll speak to my contacts and find you a position. Go to Jahzara; she will conduct you out. You have two weeks. Any longer than that and I’ll send your cousin. Upon your return, you will wed Kydra. Good riddance, my spy.”

  The King spoke so calmly Addi wasn’t sure if he was hearing his father speaking or if he was in a dream. He gulped loudly, holom save me if I fail. Left alone, he glared at his rough and fragmented grey skin hands. Images of the Manor fight filtered back to him. He saw the blood and the lifeless bodies on the ground. He wished the images would dessert him—they didn’t.

  He knew how to kill—how to kill quick with a blade to the heart and how to kill slow, with multiple lacerations to the body. He had done so his whole life and never questioned it, that was being a Silkri Drake, able to curve large amounts of the Siliou and crush those who couldn’t.

  In truth, he hated it, and hated more than anything to have blood on his hands.

  Yet to keep his father happy he did what he was told. Plus, they were the last of the Drakes left on Rivalex and he was intended to marry Kydra. Fortunately, for his sanity, he could escape in books. He ran his fingers along the spines filed on the Rivalex geology shelf, and after a moment, picked out one that read ‘Middle Forsda: Through the Ages,’ and flicked it open to the centre pages. Numerous illustrations of the old Middle Forsda castle of creamy white stone stared back at him.

  Then the castle turned into a sweeping dust of leaves as he flashed back to the Valley Woods. Miry trees stole his vision and the wind watered his eyes. Suddenly, he was back to being six years old. Copious curly brown hair and soft green eyes stood out against his preform complexion. The battle was over, the castle was completely destroyed, known now as the Ruins of Middle Forsda. His little body ran with all his might up a pillar before he slipped and twisted his ankle, slicing his leg open so quickly he barely had time to register it. Before he knew, he was tumbling over the stone to the grass, rolling a few times before coming to a stop.

  The grey-haired man that emerged from the Woods was glowing white and if Addi didn’t know any better he would have assumed he was some sort of spirit. Coming out of the tress draped in white and azure Giliou robes, the older gentlemen calmly strolled over to him, smiling and stroking his short grey beard. “We can’t have that, now can we?” His voice was gentle, assessing the messy wound. “I’m Boku Jove,” he said, crouching down. Addi glanced to the man’s palm sparking white light, waving over his bloodied leg and after a few seconds was pulled away.

  The kind eyed man placed his hand across Addi’s cheek and with a lurch, he was back in the Sile library.

  Panting, Addi opened his eyes and closed the book. Boku Jove lingered in his mind. He touched his slacks just above his knee, the scar reminded him of that day and moment. It was Boku Jove he had chosen to befriend, Boku Jove who guided him to read, to know more than using the Silkri aura for killing.

  But who was Silas Silkri really? And would he be okay with how the Silkri aura was being represented today? Did the Defeated King embody everything Silas stood for? Was his father’s governance doing the same or were they out of touch? Was torturing anyone against the Drake order justified?

  His head spun in the uncertainty—would Addi ever just allow his own instincts to take over?

  “Enough,” he shouted, so loud that soot and dust flew up from the shelves, and he was gasping like he had just been strangled.

  It fell quiet and he could only hear the sound of his breath.

  With the clear breeze in focus, a delicate vision emerged like a blinding light. The Gorgon Princess’s face stole his imagination and then faded almost as quickly as it came. The choice was clear, he thought—his father had ordered him to kill her, Boku Jove had asked him to save her—his next move would be a damning definition of who he was to become. The question he couldn’t answer, however, was who he actually was now, after everything he had been through, and where exactly he wanted to go.

  “Your presence is unexpected.” A high-pitched voice broke his thoughts, then to Addi’s surprise the penetrating gaze of Princess Kydra was on him while she skipped happily to him, resting her grey hands around his neck and chest.

  “Don’t sneak up on me, Kydra.” He said crossly, yanking her hands away from him. As a consequence, he had to watch her from afar; fluttering around the shelves and flicking her dead straight hair over her shoulders, smugly grinning at him in her skin-tight blue dress that was as bright as her self-confidence. As usual, it was her immaculate presentation that deceived those that ever graced her company. Kydra was a force in the Siliou with strong Silkri ability, bold enough to be a Drake. Yet, add to that her choice of such suggestive tight-fitting attire stuck to her thin frame, the thick black make-up round her ruby red eyes and on her thin lips, and the way she used her sensuality as power, could make anyone detest the girl.

  “You’re too gorgeous, Addi. Don’t let that handsome face of yours be so temperamental, my future king. You know, one day I’ll have to put you in your place.” She smirked, and Addi knew that look—was she keeping secrets? “Embarking on a contingency for the king, are you? Care to take me with you?” She blushed at her own audacity.

  Addi simply shrugged and let out a moan. “Enough, Kydra. Shut your lips. You’ll go nowhere with that tongue of yours.”

  “I’ll be going straight to your bed chambers, Prince.” She licked her lips, drawing closer to him with arms outstretched.

  Addi grimaced, clasped his hand around her throat and drew her face nearer to his.

  “Addi …?”

  “Do not have faith in the order you serve, Kydra.” Her hair whisked about against his heavy breath. “There is always someone who breaks the rules, and right now you’re testing my patience. What is it that you seek?”

  She smiled through his restraint and pecked him on the check.

  “I don’t know what you want out of this?” He said. “You’ve got the city at your feet and you don’t utilise that?”

  “When will you accept your destiny? It’s us for the long term, like it or not.”

  He dropped his hand from her neck. Her insinuations of being with him made him uncomfortable, but right now she was speaking truth, he had no choice in the matter, as long as he stayed in Sile, he was obligated to give the next Sile governance a resilient power, which meant being with Kydra, who Addi knew was self-centred and conceited. How, ever, will that make the leadership strong?

  “I think you have much to learn before you lead the Sile governance, Addi. I want this to work between us, as Silkri Drakes we can create the ultimate Rivalex, through such control.”

  He was looking at her with abhorrence and knew that hunger within her was for the power—his power. He recognised it right there in her pleading expression—she clung to the status, the hierarchy of it all. What would she get out of being Queen?

  “Kydra, there is only one dictator.”

  Her now callous face widened. “I’ve always wanted to be with you. It’s only about you. Don’t you get it?”

  He wasn’t sure if he was hearing right, did she really want him more than the power? Or was he getting sucked into her web of lies? Was this another performance of hers?

  “I want to fit in with you; fit in with your world, Addi. I need you to accept me.”

  “This is about acceptance?” he said surprisingly. “You’re already a Silkri Drake, Kydra, with enough power over others.”

  “Of course, but this is about our reign, Addi, and about what we can do together,” she said. “I’ve never wanted something so much. I feel for you more than you know. I hate the way the other girls look at you. I don’t like the way you fraternise with them.”

  Addi saw sparks of fury pour out of the young Drake. Her beauty dissipating into jea
lous rage before him.

  “I just want you to know how I feel,” she confessed. Silence hung between them like a dirty rag. “Good luck with the killing,” she soon said.

  “You don’t even know her.” The minute Addi said it, he knew he made a mistake.

  “What do you mean ‘know her’? Know a monster?” She scrunched her face up in disgust. “Addi, I beseech you to express your current thoughts. Is something going on that you have not told the Onyx Office, or me, your future queen, for that matter?”

  “Don’t hold your breath for my return, Kydra, and be productive to the project in Layos. I must depart.” He stalked out toward the wooden doors of the library.

  “You have to return, Addi,” she called out to his departing mane of grey hair now passing around the corner into a corridor. “You have to lead the Necromancers and command all of Rivalex!”

  “Oh yes, I will return for that,” he spat to himself, feeling as though the words came from a place of truth. He felt strong knowing he would lead Sile, but what did that mean for Boku Jove’s teachings? About keeping the Gorgon Princess safe? And why was Kydra so arrogant? Somehow, amongst the sickliness of her over-confidence, he found her somewhat alluring. But did she really have no ambition of her own? Well, he was her ambition. Was that such a bad thing? Worthy of loathing? He felt overwhelmingly confused by it all. He was only certain of one thing, and that was what he was born into—his rank, his title, and how he was exalted. That was a privilege that he knew he would never throw away.