Mythia: and the Awakened Beast Read online

  “Where’d he go?” Regulus shouted.

  Terrified screams could be heard from the spectators beneath. “Where’s the king?”

  “Did you see that? He disappeared!”

  “Somebody find the king!”

  Mythia turned the great Dragon around in circles, but the Dragon King was nowhere to be found.

  19. THE PHOENIX AND THE UNICORN

  They glanced down at the remains of the battle as the Dragon soared across the jousting field. Hundreds of bodies lay broken all over the ground, which had been upended and destroyed. The white snow had been tarnished by black smoke and streaky splatters of bright red blood. Moans of pain from the wounded lifted into the air. Mythia could just make out Pater crouching over the dead, closing their eyes and saying a quiet votum with a gesture of his hand. A female healer with long red hair streaked beneath them, rushing between the severely wounded. Mythia recognized Digna from a brief meeting in Monoceros, when she healed the Doctrine from a head wound. They glided across Trigonus, as people streamed into the city from all over the kingdom, helping the wounded, searching the dead for those they love. Occasional shrieks, shouts of names being called out, and cries of pain filled in the walls of Trigonus.

  All of this turned into streaks of color as the Dragon sped up. They passed the city gates and were flying over the western forest, its maple and oak trees blended into a blur of red and orange.

  The storm had ceased. The sky filtered back to a dark blue streaked with purple, as the sun set in the west. Through the calm and the quiet, with only the rhythm of flapping wings beneath their feet, Mythia suddenly became aware of Regulus holding tightly onto her from behind, his arms wrapped around her waist, his face buried in her hair. She let go of the dragon’s neck and placed her hands gently on his, wrapping her legs more tightly around the dragon's scaly back to keep hold. She closed her eyes and leaned into Regulus, as the crisp air pushed against them. They stayed like this, soaking in the peace that was sure to soon be broken, as the Dragon flew south, somehow knowing where they needed to go.

  They landed all too soon right in the southern courtyard of Fenniks. A large bounty hunter sitting on a strange, makeshift throne, dropped the bit of meat he had been holding, his eyes widening at the sight of the queen and the prince sliding off the huge black dragon. Without a word he slipped off the throne and ran, his tremendous weight shaking the ground beneath his feet. Several other bounty hunters chased after him, pushing each other out of the way.

  Mythia watched them for a moment, before turning back to Prince Regulus, whose eyes never left her. He slowly lifted his hand and stroked the side of her face, sending a streak of heat from his touch.

  “It’s still the same,” she whispered. Her throat felt tight and her voice cracked on the way out.

  “It’s never changed,” Regulus whispered back. He stroked her face again. "The last time I saw you, we were celebrating your marriage to my father... and then you appear in a jousting tournament trying to kill me." He smiled, his face filled with joy. "But between then and now, never, not even for a moment whether in sleep or awake, did you leave my mind."

  "I wish I could say the same," Mythia sniffed. She looked down, suddenly full of shame for what she almost did. Regulus lifted up her chin to face him.

  "You weren't yourself. I don't even have to know what happened to know that." The sound of the Dragon shaking out his wings brought their attention back to where they stood. “Where’d this guy come from, anyway?” Regulus asked with a grin. “I owe him a great deal of thanks.”

  Mythia stroked the Dragon’s snout. The great beast closed its eyes, enjoying her touch. “It’s the Dragon from the legends. They didn’t disappear… they were put to sleep. And turned into stone.” She glanced meaningfully over at the huge marble phoenix, whose beady eyes watched them from the center of the courtyard.

  Regulus glanced back and forth between the two beasts and let out a low whistle. “Incredible how these fairy tales just keep on coming true. I’m beginning to think that nothing is impossible.” Regulus followed her, as Mythia trotted carefully over to the phoenix and stroked its hard, cool beak. She closed her eyes.

  Red blazed from within when her eyelids snapped open. With her arms stretched wide, she let out a shriek like a bird, a voice nothing like her own, as the ground beneath them shook and trembled. A wisp of gray in the shape of the phoenix escaped from her throat and floated up into the marble statue. Mythia’s eyes turned back to brown and she gasped, clutching her throat, shaky and sweating.

  The dark beady eyes of the Phoenix blinked and peered down at them. Its great plumage turned from gray stone to astoundingly bright shades of red, yellow, and orange; the feathers weaving an intricate design like the tips of a flame. The bottom of his body was the whitest, gradually turning darker like ombre fire to the tip of the wispy long feathers at the top of his head. He looked at Mythia expectantly.

  She leaned over to make eye contact and carefully, slowly, stroked the silky feathers at the top of his head. He tilted his face to the side at her touch.

  The Dragon huffed from behind them. Regulus nudged Mythia carefully, as whatever civilians of Fenniks were left, emerged slowly from their homes. Dressed in matching colors of the Phoenix himself, their eyes wide with wonder and curiosity, they tiptoed closer to the courtyard.

  Regulus straightened his posture. “People of Fenniks. Come out and see the very beast you have been marked by. Do not be afraid. We are not here to hurt you. And the queen,” he glanced over at Mythia who quickly withdrew her hand from the Phoenix’s soft plumage. “The queen did not cast a curse upon this land. That was a rumor expelled by my father, who has been plagued with evil.”

  Murmurs spread around the courtyard like a wave of wind. An older woman, with hair so thin and gray it was hardly visible, stepped up. She held onto a long staff covered in dark wooden knots. She peeked over at the bounty hunter's throne, which stood empty and deserted. "It is finished?” Without waiting for an answer, she bowed down as deeply as her old spine would allow her. Slowly, one by one, the people of Fenniks knelt onto their knees and bowed low to their queen and prince.

  The Dragon nudged Mythia gently on the back with the tip of his snout. She then peered over at the people who stared mesmerized by the Phoenix and the Dragon. “The Phoenix will remain here, protecting you. But we must continue our journey. You will be safe from the evil doings of this world as long as the Phoenix remains on guard. And I don’t believe you have to fear the bounty hunters any longer,” she added, noticing they had not returned. The old woman with the staff slowly brought her hands together and began clapping. It echoed in the quiet air, until more people joined. Soon the entire city was applauding them, encircling the courtyard. Smiles broke through their faces as they realized what this all meant. That they would no longer need to live in fear of the chaotic world that had overturned their city. That they were finally safe.

  The Phoenix spread its great fiery wings, appearing more like a flame than an animal, as it took off into the sky. It circled above the city of Fenniks, its beady eyes peering protectively at the ground beneath.

  Regulus took Mythia’s hand, which fit perfectly around hers, as he helped her onto the Dragon. The black beast waited patiently as Regulus pulled himself up and settled in behind Mythia. His spiky tail hit the ground with a shudder of dirt as his wings stretched out wide, causing some nearby citizens to hop out of the way. They all watched in deepest awe as the Dragon pushed its great body off the ground and lifted up the prince and the queen of Terra higher and higher into the darkening sky.

  They watched the kingdom streak below them as the Dragon’s feet skimmed the very tops of the highest trees over the Inferus Woods. The sun bade them farewell, taking the blanket of warmth it provided along with it. Mythia shivered in the cold air, the breeze blowing against her face and causing tears to stream out of her eyes. Regulus held on tighter from behind, feeling her shivering beneath his arms. She suddenly thought
about the cloak she left behind that now covered Ventus and wondered if her blond haired friend still lay broken on the jousting field’s benches where she left her. She trembled even more at the very thought.

  “Why did you do it?” Regulus’s voice broke through her thoughts. His breath tickling her ears. “Why did you take your own life?”

  Mythia thought for a minute before answering through chattering teeth. “In the moment before, as the Doctrine’s voice cleared a path through my foggy thoughts… it was as though I had awoken from a horrible dream. All the memories I’ve ever shared with you cascaded over me. Once I realized what I was about to do, what I was fighting so hard to achieve and how close to it I had gotten… Even though the memories had returned, the drive to… to kill you… was so powerful and the guilt so overwhelming… it was the only way I could stop myself from doing the one thing I would have regretted more than anything else.” Mythia could feel Regulus breathing, his chest slowly moving up and down.

  “I would have preferred to die a thousand deaths than to watch your life be taken.” The prince shuddered. “I think that’s what had finally awakened my gifts. I have never, in all my life, felt an emotion so strong as the moment I watched the life flee from your eyes. You may as well of taken my life with yours.”

  The moment stretched into silence, as they both considered what each other had said. The dragon flew steadily on, making his way northwest. Stars started to pop up all over the deep blue sky.

  The cold air was turning Mythia’s nose numb. She sniffed, and her heart suddenly felt like it had missed a beat- as though she had missed a step on a set of stairs. She turned slowly to face the prince.

  "I love you,” she whispered, sinking her eyes into his.

  His green eyes bore into hers, looking back and forth between them. “I love you too, Mythia.”

  And in that moment the stars aligned. The moon shined brighter, the darkest corners of the earth lightened enough to be noticed. The aroma of flowers strengthened, sunsets and sunrises became somehow even more beautiful, and all that was wrong and seemingly impossible with the world suddenly appeared to be more easy to overcome.

  The electric that sparked on the night of the Rejicio campfire blazed between them. With his arms still wrapped around her, Regulus found Mythia's hands and held them tightly with his. For the first time in all of her life, she felt safe. She turned back to face the sky in front of them and sank deeply into him, resting her head on his chest. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to be lost in the scent of his musk and feel of his heart beating strong behind her back.

  ◆◆◆

  Regulus never wanted to let go of Mythia’s hands for the rest of his life. After an agonizing four months without her, he refused to ever lose her again. Especially now that he knew she felt the same way about him. His heart leapt with joy.

  The great black Dragon landed skillfully on the mountain top of Monoceros. The city was quiet in the crisp, thin air. Night had fallen upon the kingdom and all was still. Very few lights flickered from the windows in the broken city. Regulus suspected most of the citizens were still in Trigonus, helping the wounded, since one of the unicorn’s great powers was healing. At that thought he peered over at the stone unicorn, eager to see it come to life. Eager to speak with the beast he had been marked with.

  He clutched tightly onto Mythia’s hand and slid off the Dragon. He grabbed at her waist with his free hand and helped her down. They stared into each other’s eyes for another blissful moment before turning toward the empty, cobblestone courtyard.

  Mythia looked into the eyes of the unicorn, the size of an average horse but with a twisting, pointed horn in the center of its forehead. Regulus gave the statue a pat. The queen’s eyes glowed red for just a moment as a shiver ran through her body. He squeezed her hand more tightly, and she opened her opposite palm in front of her and let out a sigh. A wisp of smoke forming an exact replica of the unicorn emerged from her mouth and floated into the statue itself. The ground rumbled and Regulus pulled Mythia quickly out of the way as great chunks of stone fell from the statue and landed with a crash onto the ground around it. They both squinted their eyes as a blindingly white light appeared from beneath the stone and the Unicorn shook off the rest of the dusty pieces.

  The prince’s breath seemed to have been completely taken away as he took in the stunning beauty of the Unicorn. The brightness of the white coat was almost painful to look at, but he kept his eyes wide open, not wanting to miss a moment. Pulling Mythia along with him, he slowly brought his free hand to the Unicorn’s head and carefully stroked the soft, silky hair that flowed in long, silvery white waves. This wasn’t his first time meeting her. He had met this Unicorn in the very dungeons beneath their feet when retrieving one of the golden scrolls. It felt like a million years ago when he faced the trials of the heart and spoke with the Unicorn. But the one he encountered was less solid, more like the spirit than the actual being, and easily changed forms throughout his trial.

  He raised up their intertwining hands for the Unicorn to see. “You were right,” he said softly. “I did receive what I sought.” He then looked from the Unicorn to Mythia. “And I suppose I am worthy.” Mythia looked back at him questioningly, but he didn’t say any more.

  The Unicorn huffed loudly and shook her body again to release any leftover dust. Her coat was so blindingly white that the stars and moon above them appeared to have gone out.

  Mythia stroked her long mane. “You will watch over them?” The Unicorn nodded her head slightly. “Thank you.” Mythia lowered her hand as the Unicorn let out a great long neigh, backing up on her hind legs, her cry echoing across the entire mountain. She ducked her head and sprinted off, her speed both impressively fast and perfectly graceful like a streak of light that casted a glow on everything she passed. Regulus held tightly onto Mythia’s hand as they watched the shining white Unicorn make its course around the city of Monoceros beneath the silver moon.

  20. THE FALLEN KING

  The Dragon dropped them off in the Borra Forest. Night had completely encased the kingdom in its twinkling stars and opal moonlight. Mythia patted the Dragon and smiled at him, thanked him for allowing them to ride on his back, and watched as he took off into the sky toward Draconis, where he will protect those born with his mark. Regulus gave Mythia’s hand a reassuring squeeze as they watched the black dragon disappear in between the branches of the trees.

  The prince had not let go of her hand since the flight from Fenniks to Monoceros. She had a feeling it would take a lot for him to ever let go. She squeezed his back, feeling as though her own lifeline ran from her arm to his, connecting them more deeply than anything she had felt before. His ashy blond hair swept over his kind eyes from the wind of flight and his musty scent mixed with the crisp night air felt like home.

  “I’ve learned a lot about myself over these last few months,” Regulus said suddenly. Mythia raised her eyebrows. “I’ve learned I can not live without you, that the pain your absence causes goes beyond the limit of my threshold.”

  Mythia sighed. They stood surrounded by trees in the deepening night. An owl hooted somewhere nearby. A gentle breeze rustled through the dead leaves at their feet, causing Mythia’s chestnut hair to sweep across her face. Regulus’s green eyes appeared to glow in the dark. He held both of her hands in his and brought them to his lips.

  “Never again shall I leave your side, Mythia.” The sound of his voice speaking her name sent chills down her spine. Goosebumps formed on her skin.

  “And never again shall I leave.”

  They walked through the Borra Forest, making their way to the outskirts of Trigonus. The maple and oak trees began to thin out. An occasional group of people, both injured and not, bustled their way down the path back to their home cities. Then from within the silent night, the sound of footsteps pattering quickly down the crunchy leaves met their ears. Regulus froze. He slid his sword out with his free hand, the blade ringing in the night, holding on even more f
irmly to Mythia. A flash of light blue appeared from between the trees as Sir Fort hurried toward them, sweat dripping down his pale face. Regulus returned his sword to its sheath.

  “Sir Fort,” he said in relief.

  “Ah, Prince Regulus, thank the Spiritus,” Sir Fort spoke fast, his voice quivering beneath his words. “You must come with me immediately, sire. Something you need to see… We found the king.” Regulus exchanged one quick, worried glance with Mythia before guiding her forward. Sir Fort led them down the path toward Trigonus, their feet pounding through the dead leaves. Mythia felt her hand perspire within Regulus’s palm.

  Sir Fort slowed down and turned suddenly into a thicket of trees. He paused for a moment before diving between them, then he stopped and stared at something that completely knocked the breath from Mythia’s lungs.

  King Tribus’s limp body swayed in the light breeze, a rope tied tightly around his neck attached to a thick branch on a maple tree. His head lay on his shoulder, his eyes open and staring wide, empty and lifeless. There was no trace of black in his emerald eyes. He had died as himself.

  Mythia felt Regulus fall onto his knees, never letting go of her hand. His arm shook violently as he bent down, clutching at his stomach with his right arm. Mythia felt a tear fall steadily down her face unable to take her eyes off the swaying corpse. Sir Fort sighed deeply next to them. Four other knights stood nearby, holding out their swords, protecting the sacred space as Regulus made himself completely vulnerable, his tears spilling onto the dried, dead leaves beneath him.

  A flood of memories filled Mythia with sorrow. The man beneath the crown, the strange love he had for her. The strength he bore, the strong powerful beat of his heart beneath the dragon tunic that was no more. She imagined how still his heart had become, how still and silent his chest now was in death. She felt herself breathing more and more quickly, as a mixture of anger and despair and sadness engulfed her. Tribus had fought his own battle last night against the Dragon King and had lost. Where was the Dragon King now? Was he gone or simply waiting for the heir to take the throne so he could possess him too? Mythia glanced worryingly down at Regulus.