Chapter 39 Claeg
When I returned to the stronghold, Anastasius was gone. At dusk, he still hadn’t returned, and concern began to nibble at my gut like a greedy, fat rodent. I found myself pacing his room, running my hand through my hair and conducting conversations with myself. When I couldn’t stand waiting for him any longer, I stalked toward the door only to find Ercan on the other side. I blinked at him in surprise before narrowing my eyes.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, unable to keep the edge from my tone.
“Prince Anastasius would want me to look after you.” He shrugged. I scowled.
“And where is he?” The question tumbled from me without my consent, revealing my concern. Ercan gave me a knowing smile that made me huff.
“I don’t know. Probably in the Neutral Strip searching for the witch.” His words made a realization click into place in my mind. The witch was the source of their power. That had to be it. That was why they were so desperate to get them back—to prevent it from landing in Circulus' hands, but if they couldn’t find the draconis… I nodded, keeping my revelation to myself, and retreated into the room.
The day dragged on. I frequently took off into the sky to stretch my wings. It did little to ease my restlessness. At dusk, someone knocked on the door just as I considered the fourth flight of the day. I grunted and the door swung open, revealing an older woman—Thyia. She held a tray of tonics and salves away from her stained clothes. I tilted my head at her from where I stood by the fireplace, stoking a small fire. “I’m here to attend to your wounds.” She gestured for me to sit.
“I’m fine.” I turned back to the fire, but instead of taking that as a dismissal, I heard her soft footsteps approach.
“Your wounds need—”
“Leave me be, De Vita witch! I said I’m fine,” I snapped.
“As you wish,” she replied, the click of the door letting me know she left, but the Ruptor didn’t relax, sensing a new presence.
“I don’t need to be taken care of. You can go, Ercan,” I snarled.
He snorted softly, making my hackles rise. “I once said something similar to the prince. He refused to let me suffer because of self pity, and I won’t let you because of your damn pride. Now, sit,” he commanded, making my eyebrows raise. How dare he be so bold to me? I turned to look at him, really look at him. He held the tray Thyia had brought in before him. But unlike her, his clothes weren’t stained from previous patients. He wore an old tunic that was shredded at the back and shoulders. Red stains marked the edges of each tear in the fabric. Flashes of his sun-darkened skin revealed scabbed-over lashes. His violet eyes were soft, but a scarred hand firmly pointed to the chair beside the fire. I swallowed, holding his eye. It was like the last five sun turns hadn’t happened. Like Tamela hadn’t died and he hadn’t betrayed the clan with his weak heart. His lips twitched in an encouraging smile, one so similar to the ones he had given me as a child when he was about to teach me a lesson. Slowly, I sat, a part of me longing to return to the days I had regarded him as a god.
Ercan brushed my hair to the side of my neck, revealing the broken Circle. His fingers grazed my skin, their flesh calloused over the past sun turns. Hardened in a way to make him stronger. I frowned. He began washing my back, lashes which matched his scars. My toes curled and thighs tensed with the sharp pains. I closed my eyes and memories of my father surfaced. Laughter in the trees as we searched for mushrooms. The praise he bathed me in when I learned a skill with a new weapon. Patience in his eyes when we hunted animals and I scared them off with my heavy footsteps. Then there was the first time I completed a Circle as Ruptor. He had washed me of the blood then too. And he hadn’t berated me when my sorrow fell in wet tracks down my cheeks.
I felt my father kneel at my feet and take my hands in his. I opened my eyes, finding them heavy with tears. One of them shed, falling onto my chin. “Why are you helping me?” I asked, my voice cracking on the words. He gave me a gentle smile and squeezed a cloth of its excess liquid before using it to cleanse my legs and arms.
“You’ve shown De Vita a great mercy, Claeg,” he answered, as he finished up flushing the dirt from the wounds. I scoffed. “You have,” he insisted. “The Ruptor I knew would not have let Anastasius live in his cursed state.” He dipped his fingers into a bowl, coating them in the thick salve. “The Ruptor I knew would have completed all of their Circles.” He indicated all the draconis in the mesa as he finished by tending to the brand from the poker in my side. “You may not see it, but you’ve changed, son.” I balked at him, tempted to correct him. To tell him that no, I hadn’t changed and the De Vita would still meet that fate, but I just didn’t.
Moments later, he left me feeling confused and conflicted.
Many days later, I rolled in the bed, flipping onto my stomach, to find Stas still missing. Ercan had been my only company. He ensured I was fed and my wounds tended to. We hadn’t talked much since that first night though. I yawned. My eyes closed, relaxing as the gentle morning sun bathed me with its warmth. That was one thing I appreciated about De Vita territory: it was never cold. The sun was always kind here. Moments later, the smell of honey and bacon wafted in, making me groan in appreciation. I looked up, startling—Anastasius smiled at me from the doorway.
I sat up promptly, watching as the prince placed a tray of delightful treats down on the bedside table. He wore a dark green robe, bound at the waist with a golden belt along with jewelry around his neck—which, ironically, were gold circles. The clothing looked out of place on the prince, who preferred light tunics over grand, pompous robes. “You came back,” I commented with a hint of accusation. I desperately wanted to ask why did you leave me? The allegation was clear and the unspoken words: you left me. Instead, I contented myself with carefully studying him. His shoulders slumped, and dark circles ringed his eyes. His lips were raw and bloody. He sighed, turning towards me with a pained expression.
He gestured to the food. “Eat, Eleos.” The platter was filled with poached eggs, sourdough bread, a pile of fried potatoes, fresh juice, fruits that I didn’t recognize, and my favorite, burnt bacon. None of it appealed to me as I stared at the man who had all but abandoned me the last few days. I raised an eyebrow at him and he let out a long sigh.
“After what happened with the boy… Eleos, I killed him. Don’t you understand? I didn’t do it for him. He didn’t ask me to complete his Circle. I killed him because I was selfish.”
“So you left,” I retorted, making him cringe. If I weren’t so angry and confused, perhaps I would be more sensitive. “Why?”
“I was afraid.” His tongue flicked along his lip as if he was tempted to gnaw on it and his eyes were raw and vulnerable with emotion.
“Then why did you come back?” I whispered. Did he hope I would absolve him of his guilt? Or did he want my anger? I stayed silent, letting him explain.
“Today is the Day of Breath,” he answered as if that explained everything. Something told me it did, so I leaned in, picking at the bacon. He shrugged, a cloud passing over his face. I took a swig of orange juice as he pulled up a chair and sat across from me. It was just another thing that shouldn’t be possible in this wasteland, but was here. Real.
“Today, many years ago, the gods blessed us with their breath, their De Vita. We thank them for their sacrifice by celebrating every new sun turn.” His voice had that drawn-out cadence to it, almost hesitant. What he said wasn’t that surprising: the Circulus had special days we celebrated, too.
“What do you do?” I asked as Anastasius plucked up a piece of toast and smashed an egg on it. He looked about as eager to eat as I was, but I forced myself to eat some more bacon.
“Dancing, singing, flying, and lots of sex.” He bit his lip, his cheeks flushing. I smirked, giving him a suggestive look.
“Sounds like a good time,” I replied, keeping my eyes on him as he squirmed under my gaze. I loved making him flush.
“I wouldn’t fully know . . . I’ve never been allowed to fully participate. I have to wait until after I have a Chosen.” I saw a flash of pain cross his face before it was replaced by determined indifference. My eyebrows raised as I took a sip of juice to wash down the greasy flavor of the meat.
“Are you telling me you’ve never . . . indulged in pleasure?” I couldn’t deny that the thought excited me. My cock stirred at the thought of bedding the virgin De Vita prince. He shrugged and shook his head. I silently ate my bacon, waiting for him to speak.
“Not really. I mean, I’ve explored myself, and I’ve obviously kissed you…” The admission should have sent a thrill to my cock, but something wasn’t right. The way he was looking at me with guilt instead of lust was . . . concerning. I pushed the sentiment down, dismissing it as a nervous reaction.
“Oh, my Prince, when I am your Chosen, I am going to show you a whole new world,” I purred, reaching across the small table to stroke his hand. Anastasius jerked back at my touch and then winced. I frowned at him but didn’t push him on it. He wasn’t ready, and I could respect that. When we coupled, it would be because he wanted to. Because he couldn’t keep to himself. Instead, I withdrew my hand, offering a piece of myself. “The Circulus has a day like that, too. When it is time for a new Janardan to rule, we have days of celebration for the completion of the old Janardan’s Circle. Then when they are gone, we celebrate the new Janardan’s rule.” I retracted my hand and finished off the juice.
“And what do you do to celebrate?”
“Other than fuck?” The prince’s eyes flared, and I smelled lust blossom from him. He bit his lip and nodded. “We fight. We eat. We tell stories of great Circles.”
“It sounds marvelous.”
“I imagine it is. I’ve never participated. My grandmother has been Janardan my entire life. But when Clotho becomes Janardan, I—” I cut off, realizing my mistake a moment too late. I swallowed. “It would have been a fun time, but my life is here now.” I pushed my tongue into my cheek, hoping he hadn’t caught my slip up, but also wishing he would. My purpose was my chains. It would be so easy to tell him the truth: I was sent here for information, to find your weakness, to destroy you. The admission would set me free, but would I become a prisoner in another way? Thankfully, his face was solemn, his eyes distant moons.
“Do you miss them?” The question made me stiffen. How much could I tell him? I winced at the question and what it implied. How much could I tell him and still remain a dutiful puppet? I held the key to my freedom, but I clutched it nervously. Fear held me in its clutches, preventing me from taking that step outside of my chains. The Ruptor. My purpose. My clan. They were all I knew. Stepping outside of them would be . . . exhilarating. Terrifying.
I looked away. The truth was I did miss my family, but not in the way I had expected. I missed the certainty of knowing who I was. The security of being the Ruptor gave me the excuse to distance myself from my actions. I thought with all the weakness surrounding me I would miss the full spectrum of my Circle, but that wasn’t the case. I sighed. I couldn’t tell the prince my true feelings, though, because lingering beneath that was a truth I wasn’t ready to face. That I wasn’t the same man as I was when I left the Circulus. I wasn’t sure I wanted to return to the way things were. I blinked, stunned at the thought. Anastasius looked at me expectantly, still waiting for my reply..
“My sister loved to fly and race me in the sky. We played a game once. Clotho and I flew as high as we could, until the moon was nearly within our grasp. She passed out before we got there. I have never felt more terrified than when she was in freefall. I didn’t want her Circle to end because of my na?veté. She wasn’t weak; I had made a mistake…” Why was I admitting this?
“What happened?” Anastasius whispered; at some point he had gripped my hand, and he squeezed it gently now. The food was pushed aside, forgotten.
“I . . . froze. She woke up and saved herself. I’ve been the Ruptor all my life, but I’ve never told her . . . about the fear I experienced as she fell. The utter terror of losing her was paralyzing. To this day, I don’t know what I would have done if given another second. She thinks I would have let her die, and she praised me for it.” Guilt thrashed around my chest, tugging at my gut. I pulled my hand back from his, clenching it into a fist. This had happened so long ago. It didn’t matter anymore. I stood up, leaving the partially eaten feast.
“Eleos—”
“No, that’s enough,” I interrupted him. Rolling my shoulders, I donned my armor, plastering on a seductive grin. He held my eye a moment before nodding, thankfully letting the subject drop. “Today is a day to celebrate, not mourn past mistakes.” The subject change displeased him; that much was evident in his darkened eyes. “You promised to teach me to live.” I opened my arms. “I’m listening.”
“Indeed I did, and so I shall.” Anastasius gave me a disarming smile which I couldn't help but return.
All around us, the normally lively castle was even more exuberant. The green the prince wore for the occasion was plastered all over the place—on the walls in the form of painted swirls which I couldn't discern, in the decor, wrapped around the people in sashes and gowns and tunics. Everyone wore their finest along with decadent grins. It was an expression I found myself matching reluctantly. Everyone moved with grace and a foreign beauty. Fabrics swished and grins flashed between every eager face we came across.
Upon seeing their prince, many bowed low with bright smiles, and when their gaze came my way the hatred I expected to see wasn't there. Instead, there was curiosity. The prince led me outside, where the air was so thick with draconis the sun was shaded. I couldn't help but watch as they flew in tandem, their movements rapid and excited. The chaos was organized, though, and there were no protesting roars filling the air and no collisions. Only endless scales of every color replacing the blue sky. If I weren’t seeing it before my eyes, I would think such a thing was an act of magic to assemble so many dragons in the sky with ease. There was no apparent pattern to their flight, but not a single wing brushed another despite the thousands of draconis above me.
“What are they doing?” I murmured in awe, unable to take my eyes away from the flying display of draconis. I itched to join them, but it was an itch I couldn’t scratch. Surely, if I joined them it would only disrupt the balance they had so perfectly established.
Anastasius' smile was almost palpable and reluctantly I tore my eyes from the sky to watch him. His eyes were alight with glee. “They are flying their life path.” I frowned at the explanation, but before I could inquire, he continued. “Would you like to join them?” The question threw me off, uncertainty clinging to me like a shadow. I hated the way my gut churned with nerves.
“I don't know what to do.”
He gave me a soft smile before stretching out his hand, the burn that had been there less angry. Now, the only sign of it was a fresh scar to join the others. “Just follow your heart, Eleos. It won't lead you astray,” the prince said before releasing his draconis, once again stunning me with his beauty, his elegance. His everything. I wanted to claim him, to consume everything about him. When my lips tugged up into a smile, I didn't fight them. Massive moon-like eyes blinked at me slowly, waiting for me to shift. Instead, I walked up to his snout, laying my hand on his scales to see if they were as smooth as they looked. They were. He let out a contented rumble, nuzzling into my palm ever so slightly.
“So fucking beautiful,” I murmured to him, stroking his snout. The scales were warm. My fingers traced the seams of each scale, creating a path of their own. The prince was truly a wonder to behold, a figure of strength and dominance that would make any Circulus draconis think twice before taking him on. Not me. There was no fear between us. The thought didn't startle me, but the next did: I respected him. Cared for him, even, and that would make leaving him when my task was complete all the harder. It didn't matter now, though. I retreated a few steps before unsheathing my draconis.
In this form, my heart rate slowed, and my worries of disrupting the flow ebbed slightly. I met Anastasius’ eyes, and as if reassuring me, he briefly entwined our tails. The heat of him against me sent pleasure racing through my body, but it was gone all too quickly, and he took off into the sky.
For a moment, I just watched as he seamlessly incorporated himself into the flying draconis. He should have instantly disappeared from view amongst the plethora of draconis, but my eyes easily tracked his midnight sky form as it interacted with the other De Vita.
Reluctantly, I joined the clan, keeping low to the ground to avoid any collisions at first. My eyes didn't leave Anastasius. He was a beacon, a burst of darkness which overpowered everyone else. Instinct made me weave through the throng of bodies. It should have been impossible with the sheer amount of draconis surrounding me, but nobody so much as brushed me with a wing tip or claw. I hovered in the air, taking in the beauty of the flying mosaic around me. Claws, teeth, and wings flashed past me in a flurry, but my eyes were solely on Anastasius. He flew in the center of the mass, all the draconis pulled in by him. I felt the tug, too, unable to resist the urge to fly toward him. I needed to feel him against me. Even the Ruptor seemed entranced by him, and it wasn’t just the familiar sexual desire for him. I craved him. What he represented. So, I weaved through the bodies. Up close, it was clear the flight paths were a form of dance, the music the sound of our wings beating.
It took forever to reach Anastasius, but when I did, everything fell into place. I darted for him, pulled in by the beauty of his movements. His eyes were impossibly bright, like moonlit embers burned beneath their surface. We flew chest to chest, up and up, then swooped down in tandem. We forged a path together. My heart fluttered. I wasn’t sure what it meant, but it felt right. The final trial was coming. I shouldn’t still be here, yet I didn’t want to leave. Perhaps my father was right and I had changed here. A shift . . . If I became Chosen, the relationship between the clans could change.
He would be my undoing or my salvation, but either way I knew he would be my everything.