Dragonbound: Birthrights (Book 2)

Although Torin and Brick had recently arrived in Vintar, he was itching to leave. The guest room he was given was large, quite possibly larger than his home. Despite its size and warmth, he found it discomforting. He wanted to go home. In all reality, he wanted to stop thinking about his brother. And he wanted to stop thinking about how he had made a fool of himself before Kiaran.

His thoughts were broken by a subtle knock at the door. He lifted his eyes, turning away from the open window facing the cool courtyard. Quietly, Stella stepped inside, her head bowed as she asked, “...May I come in?”

“Yes,” he answered lowly.

She gingerly closed the door behind herself and he caught a glimpse of the burn scar across the back of her neck. That battle was just around a year ago...There was so much loss, and not all of it in death.

His heart throbbed.

“Torin.” Stella paused as her eyes lifted to him. Whatever she was going to say was put on hold as she gestured to his necklace. “Your feather…”

He looked down, touching his fingertips to the charms that hung partway down his chest. The red feather used to signify his marriage was missing. Just another bad omen to add to his marriage with Lianna. Unintentionally, he allowed a sigh to escape his lips.

Seeming to understand what Lianna might think if he showed up without it, Stella said, “I understand there may be...doubts. But do not fall victim to superstitions. It isn’t like you.”

“Right,” he nodded slowly, looking away. Maybe it wasn’t just superstition...Especially not after what he had said to Kiaran before leaving. Was he destroying their marriage before it really had a chance to begin?

She hesitated as she stood, still at the door. Unable to come forward right away, she remained stationary. “Is something wrong?” Torin asked lowly.

After a short pause, she said, “I am to understand your brother is in good health?”

“...Considering,” he shrugged a shoulder. He waited, knowing she had more to say. Usually, he was patient, but tonight, he just wanted her to say what she came for and leave.

“If you found what you were looking for, and you know he is unharmed...why are you so distressed?”

“I’m not distressed,” he replied almost too quickly.

She gave him a weak smile, though it wasn’t necessarily out of pity. “I know we weren’t very close in our travels together. But I like to think I’ve picked up on some of your tells. I understand if you don’t want to discuss something with me. I also understand that maybe you don’t quite view me as a friend yet.”

Torin eyed her for a long, serious minute. In truth, he did see her as a friend. As strange as it was, considering the way they met. However, after Kiaran had left, he and Stella were the only two real acquaintances within the tribe. So they worked well together. And after some time, he realized that she was really actually a good person. He genuinely enjoyed her company.

“Do you want something to drink?” he finally asked, gesturing to the chairs at his side.

She shook her head as she slowly took a seat. “No thank you,” she said. Between their short, quiet exchanges, the only sound was of crackling fire from the mantle.

Finally, Torin said, “Davin is fine, Kiaran is fine...That isn’t what’s bothering me. Not fully, anyway.” She listened quietly as he continued. “Of course I worry for them as they continue traveling. It’s dangerous...It even feels wrong.” She nodded, still quiet. How could she know that he was holding something back? Maybe she really didn’t know, but his conscience was making him think she did. He hesitated, unable to push words past his tongue. Until finally he blurted it out, “I told her.”

Stella tilted her head slightly, her eyes focusing on him inquisitively. “...I’m sorry? I’m...not sure I follow,” she said.

Frowning, he looked to his hands as they mingled together uneasily. “I told her that I loved her,” he muttered lowly. Admitting it both hurt and relieved him.

“Oh,” she whispered softly. She allowed a respectable pause before saying, “Do you feel better that she knows it?”

“She’s always known,” he replied.

“...But you’ve only just said it aloud, right?” He nodded and she continued, “Did it ease your heart?”

With a furrowed brow, he lowered his gaze, shaking his head. “No.”

Sensing his defeat and discomfort, she allowed a numbing silence to settle between them. Besides, what was there for her to say? Finally, after a while, a sigh escaped her as she leaned back more comfortably.

“I saw a raven…” she said softly. His green gaze shifted to her and she continued without looking back at him. “It’s a symbol where I’m from.”

Where she’s from...He pondered a moment. It was also a place Kiaran was from, did she follow the same superstitions?

“What does it mean?” he asked.

“Well, a white raven is a carrier of magic. But a black raven is a carrier of souls of magic,” she explained. He narrowed his eyes slightly and she hesitated. “You know...magic is a real thing…” He was reluctant, but nodded. After things he had witnessed in Trindal, he had no doubt it was real.

“So what does this mean? Seeing a black raven?” he asked.

“Doesn’t always mean something,” she shrugged a thin shoulder. “But I saw it roosted upon a flag of Avestitia. It simply sat and watched me, making no sound or movement,” she explained. Torin eyed her uneasily. His jaw tightened as he lowered his eyes. He already knew it was getting worse. He could tell she was afraid to say what it meant, which made him afraid to ask.

Silently, they both sat, eyes down, bodies still.

After many minutes of silence, Stella finally stood, though hesitant to leave. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think Kiaran realizes what she’s missing out with you,” she suddenly said.

His brows creased slightly, unable to look at her. His shock waved through his blood, his ears burning slightly. She, then, headed out the door without another utterance of words. Sighing deeply, he raked both hands through his hair, hanging his head.

The cold of the air stung Torin’s eyes as he sat in the garden. Though it was summer, the wind in the Avestitian mountains was bitter. Stella was beside him, sharing the bench. Across the yard, Brick spoke with a small woman, seeming to be the queen’s handmaiden. Elsi, he thought he heard someone call her.

Absently, Torin hung his fingers on the necklace at his chest, his heart stopping as he remembered the absence of his feather. His breath proved difficult to draw as he realized how difficult it was to replace. How difficult it was to find in the first place. And in realizing that, he discovered something of his brother’s resolve in his proposal to Kiaran.

He didn’t give her the feather out of desperation and lack of thought. It had to have taken weeks to find one. Davin would have spent plenty of time in looking, and there was much thought put into it. A pang of guilt flooded him as he remembered the fight he had gotten into with him over it. And it just so happened to be in this very yard.

“What?” Davin grunted. Torin looked at him, clenching his jaws. “You’ve been glaring, Little Brother. What, Torin?”

Stella subtly glanced their way, trying to avoid their argument.

“You gave Kiaran a feather?” Torin more or less stated, seeming to force the conversation to be casual. Davin’s only reaction was to narrow his eyes, his brows meeting. “You’re just being desperate. You’re not even thinking about her.”

“What?”

“You’re just wanting to bed her--”

Davin gripped him tightly by the collar of his shirt, pressing him against the cold, stone wall. “What the hell is wrong with you?” he bit.

“You’re toying with her,” Torin growled. “You don’t even know much about her--”

“I may not have spent as much time with her as you have,” Davin said lowly. “But I know her more than you think.”

“Do you?” They continued to glare, Davin’s fist full of Torin’s shirt flexing tightly. “I think you’re just trying to make amends of letting Alana die--”

Instantly, Davin came back with a full punch to Torin’s face, pain blossoming across his cheek and jaw. His vision flickered for a moment. He knew in that instant that Davin was ready to kill him. And he instantly regretted saying that about them. Davin wasn’t responsible for Alana’s death. However, Torin was angry.

“That has nothing to do with it,” Davin growled as they began fighting physically.

“Well, with your anger issues, how are you going to handle her refusal?” Torin retorted. “What happens if she doesn’t want you?”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“What if she changes her mind? I know her intimate needs are suppressed. She’s not like normal women. How far will you push her--”

There was another explosion of white across his vision as Davin hit him again. Blinking the blindness away, he stood still. The brothers glared at one another from a foot away. “I would never force her into anything,” he snarled angrily. “You’d do well to let her go, Torin. Quit being her pup and leave her alone.” She’ll never love you...that’s what he clearly meant to say.

Torin sighed heavily at the memory and rubbed his face while leaning back. He felt Stella’s eyes shift to him.

“Torin,” she spoke softly. His gaze slowly shifted to her. She hesitated, her lips pressed into a thin line. He looked miserable, completely different from his usual self. It broke her heart seeing him in such a way. When she failed to say anything more than his name, he looked forward again, a wall of silence building between them.

Seeming to pull them from the darkening quiet around them, Brick approached, saying, “Well, it seems they will have a ship prepared to head west by the end of the week. They can’t provide anything sooner due to the war.”

Torin nodded, saying, “We’ll get home soon enough.”

After a moment, Torin stood and excused himself. Stella watched him leave, a frown deepening on her face. Brick followed him with his gaze as well, sensing his deep anxieties.

“Is...he going to be alright?” Brick asked slowly.

Stella nodded, wanting to say yes. She wanted to believe he would be, but the reality that he wouldn’t be was slowly setting in. Maybe he’d never be the way he once was. It seemed he has lost a part of himself since returning from his trip. But even then, she thought he lost a small part of himself since he first was separated from Kiaran.

“And you?” Brick asked. Stella glanced up at him, somewhat surprised by the question. “How are you?”

She opened her mouth to answer, but paused. “I don’t know,” she admitted quietly.

Cyrin studied a handful of maps in the war room, his mind swarming. He couldn’t focus, his thoughts mixing and blending with others. His eyes were burning, tired, and red. But he had to remain vigilant.

“Cyrin...” Elsibellem’s voice reached his ears from the doorway. He faced her, never realizing the door had even been opened. “You should rest, my Lord.”

He knew he should rest, but he couldn’t bring himself to do so. After a moment, he shook his head, looking back down at the maps. “I’m fine,” he finally said shortly. He could feel her remaining steadfast in the doorway, reluctant to leave. Glancing over to her once more, he changed his tone slightly. “Could I ask you to bring me some tea?”

She nodded, somewhat enthusiastically. “Of course,” she said. “I’ll be right back.”

Sitting, Cyrin rubbed his face, hoping to wake himself. What felt like only a moment of rest, was actually quite longer, considering Elsibellem had just returned with the tea tray. “Oh,” he muttered once he noticed her. He quickly began moving aside maps, making room for the tray. “Thank you.”

“It’s my pleasure,” she replied gently.

She stood a respectable distance away, hands folded before herself, resting against her skirt. She watched him as he poured himself a cup. When his eyes glanced her way, she quickly lowered her gaze, seeming a bit flustered.

“You can sit if you want,” he said.

“Oh,” she breathed anxiously. “Alright.” She sat down, unable to return his look.

“Something wrong?” he asked.

“No—Well...No. Not really,” she stammered.

He narrowed his eyes at her, trying to get an answer on his own. However, all he could figure was that she was an anxious woman with a lot to worry about. “How is the queen?” he asked.

“She is fairing well enough,” she replied with a curt nod. “She is worried.”

“I know,” he sighed. “But Kiaran will be back soon,” he assured her.

She nodded, but then began shaking her head in disagreement. “She’s worried about you, Cyrin—M-my Lord.”

“My name is enough, as I’ve said,” he mumbled as he took another sip from his cup. “Why would she be worried about me?”

She stared at him, as if the answer should be clear. After realizing she hadn’t answered him, she moved quickly to respond. “You are working yourself much too hard,” she said. “Working yourself to death will benefit no one.”

“I understand your worry, Elsibellem,” he began, sitting his cup down. “But you needn’t. Not for me. This is my life, it is my duty, and I’ll do it well. I will rest when I must and I’ll eat when I must. But tonight, looking at maps, drinking tea, and talking with you is just what I need.”

She flushed brightly and she looked to the maps that sat between them. “What are you trying to learn from these?” she asked, pulling a rolled up map into her lap for inspection.

“I need to memorize the terrain in every piece of our land,” he explained. “I need to know exactly how our land lays so I can plan marches and battles accordingly.”

“...Isn’t that the General’s responsibility?” she asked. She unrolled the map, tilting her head slightly as she looked it over.

He reached over, flipping the map in her grasp so it was right side up. “It is,” he answered. “But I want to ensure that he is never mistaken. If he is, and I don’t know it, then something could happen and we could lose a lot of people.”

“So, you’re being thorough,” she stated.

“Exactly,” he said. He, then, began pouring her a cup of tea. “Has Ritiann been sending you to check up on me?”

Startled by the change in subject, she hastily shook her head. “No,” she admitted. “I mean, a few times, she had asked me to see how you were doing...”

“And tonight?”

“I noticed you hadn’t eaten all day, and I was a little worried,” she said lowly. “Ritiann was busy with her own affairs, so she hasn’t asked about you today.”

“Hm,” he handed her the cup. She took it, shyly sipping from it.

Gently, he took the map from her, rolling it back up. “Maybe I should call it a night,” he gave her a small, if not tired, smile. He deftly put away the maps, tipped back the last of his tea, and stood. Elsibellem remained in her seat, still with tea in her cup. As he moved past her, he rested his fingertips on her shoulder. Her eyes lifted to him.

“Thank you,” he continued to smile. He wanted to thank her for caring. For checking on him, and making sure he took care of himself. It wasn’t something people ever did for him. After he warmly rubbed her shoulder, he walked off, leaving her alone in the war room.

Shakily, she let her breath out, not even realizing she had been holding it. After her heart finally slowed to its normal pace, she stood and gathered up the tea tray. Stepping outside, she glanced back into the room.

“...Excuse me,” someone caught her attention from behind.

Turning, she found the young woman, Stella before her. She had such a wild appearance, one similar to Kiaran’s upon her first arrival. However, Stella appeared much more tribal. Her short, pale hair framed her face perfectly, her eyes kind, but something dark hiding within them.

“How might I help you?” Elsibellem finally asked.

“I was hoping to ask Cyrin for some help, but...seeing as how you work closely with him and the queen, I suppose I could ask you,” Stella said. Elsibellem waited; though she seemed patient, she really wasn’t. She was ready to go. “I was hoping to stay here until Davin returns with Kiaran. I need to speak with him right away and I’ll escort him home.”

“Oh,” Elsibellem nodded hesitantly. “I am sure that shouldn’t be a problem.”

Stella smiled a little and said, “Thank you.”