Dragonbound: Birthrights (Book 2)

Once they arrived in Vintar, it was late. The streets were quiet as everyone slept in their homes. After leaving the dragons in their stables, Kiaran and Cyrin parted their ways and headed straight for bed.

It was a long travel, especially feeling the silent rage that Williem had toward them. The words left behind by the dragon wasn’t too settling, and it revealed nothing. However, Kiaran was ready to find an answer, regardless of Cyrin’s feelings. He would fight her all the way, trying to keep her in Vintar.

However, that was not Kiaran. She could not simply sit there. She had to solve this herself. To protect her people. And that meant she’d have to leave her city to search for answers.

A King’s blood and a queen’s desperation...She knew she had to find out what was happening. Who was sending word by letter in Draken? The dragons would not need paper to communicate, so that left a person. Who was it?

She exhaled slowly, closing her eyes. Eventually, she would fall asleep. Hopefully, it'd be restful.

After a long night’s rest, she and Nurra woke to a knock on the door. Sluggishly, she trudged over and opened it slightly to find Elsibellem as she bowed. “Good morning, Your Highness,” she began. “You have a couple visitors.”

She lowered a brow, curious as to who it was. She often had visitors, but they were never at the castle to simply visit. She ran a hand over her messy hair, the short strands standing out awkwardly. “Who are they?” she finally asked, her voice weak from still being half asleep.

“Sir Torin Holloway and Sir...Brick?” she ended with a question--after all, what kind of name was Brick?

“Really?” she smiled. “I will meet with them shortly. Send them to breakfast.” With that, Kiaran raced to get ready.

It certainly wasn’t often that she had friends come to visit. She had dressed in a nice, sapphire blue shirt with tails that ran a couple feet down the back of her legs which were dressed in shiny, black pants. Pulling on her decorative black boots and bracers, she paused. Her chest was bare, though she had hundreds of necklaces to choose from. However, it seemed none of them could replace the one that Fargo gave her.

She frowned a little, thinking of the frail old man that ran the Zeil. Such a powerful, yet humbly small tribe that had the most unique view on life. That brought her smile back. He was a wonderful man and hoped to take his teachings and spread them across her own country. Snatching up a necklace made of black chains and feathers, she clipped it on, wrapped her hair into a messy bun, and darted out the door, Nurra after her.

Her stomach knotted as she craved some breakfast—but not only that, she was excited to see Torin again. Her pace quickened as she rounded the corner, smelling the food from the kitchens. Her muscles tightened, a smile threatening to surface. Just the thought of seeing Torin made her excited.

Nurra trilled, just as happy as she was. Reaching the doors, she stepped inside the private dining hall where her two friends waited. Torin sat with his back to her, sitting erect and his jacket looking new. It was assumed that he had recently hunted the animal and Lianna probably stitched the coat. His hair was still cut short on the sides, the single strip from front to back a bit longer like a horse’s mane.

Brick sat across from him, his stature nearly too large to fit in his chair. He wore a blue military coat, his waves of short, black hair sitting closely to his scalp. As his dark eyes lifted to meet with Kiaran he smiled widely.

Torin faced her and they both stood and bowed shortly. Kiaran smiled as she took the chair beside Torin. They sat together and she said, “This is unexpected. When have you arrived?”

“Late yesterday,” Torin answered.

“I apologize I wasn’t here,” she replied.

“That is quite alright,” Brick said. “Your mother explained that you had business in another town to tend to. It is understandable.”

A few servants carried some food in to them. Plates of cooked ham and potatoes, bread, eggs and gravies and candied berries. The table was filled with food, and the servants left. “So what brings you to Vintar?” Kiaran asked as she filled her plate with food.

“Well...” Torin’s smile faltered. “Something...something has happened...” he trailed off a bit.

Her eyes shifted to Brick who was busy piling food on his own plate. He, too, had a disturbed look, his chest puffing out slightly as he inhaled. “Care to elaborate...?” she pressed, her face growing more stern.

“Rishana may be in some trouble,” Torin finally muttered.

“Davin was abducted,” Brick said abruptly.

“What?” Kiaran hissed.

“Well, even before that happened, he was acting strangely,” Torin said. “He locked himself away for a couple of weeks, seeing no one. There were rumors of him muttering to himself, as if he were mad--but you know how crazy such accusations can be. However, I’ve noticed a change in him. In his eyes. Last I spoke to him, he believed Walter was a traitor.”

“...What sort of changes...?” she asked softly. Brick inhaled again, hardly able to explain as his gaze slowly shifted to Torin. Torin gripped his fork as he scooped up some egg. “Well?” she barked.

“He was paranoid about Walter. And he spent a lot of time alone, and he swore his mind was slowing down. It was crowded with random, unheard thoughts, as he said,” Brick began. “You could see a dark look in his eye...as if he were a prisoner.”

“Perhaps...he is just not accustomed to being kept in a castle,” Kiaran suggested softly, feeling the same at times. “Are you sure he was taken?” Davin didn’t have the freedom to leave as she did, seeing as how Ritiann was still in the kingdom, where Rishana had no one but him. “Maybe he left to clear his head for a day or two.”

“You don’t understand, Kiaran,” Brick pressed. “Something within him has changed.”

She was taken, her lungs swelling a bit. Looking to Torin, she watched him for a long time, his head bowed as he took a small bite of his food. Nurra sat at her feet, reverberating a sense of calmness in an attempt to relax her. She ignored him, however, as she ran a hand across her face.

Standing, she stepped away from the table, wondering what to do. “Who took him?”

“Trindal-VinCar?” Torin said. “We need to start there. Do you know what we can do about it? Where we can start?”

They remained quiet for several minutes, no one eating. Finally, she sat back down and took a bite of bread with jam. “I do not know what to do,” she sighed. “I cannot be of any help. I am about to go to war I think.”

“You think?” Brick laughed. “With who? You’ve only just recently taken the crown, and now you are to go into war?”

“Seems it is the story of my life,” she grinned a little. “Torin,” she faced him, “I’ll help where I can, but I have many things to handle here.”

It didn’t seem at first that his face could get any more grim, but it did. She began to apologize again and Torin shook his head. “It’s alright, Kiaran,” he said. He faced her and forced a small, half-smile. “It was nice to have a reason to visit.”

“Torin...we’ll find him,” she said softly. His brows creased, his green eyes avoiding her. Slowly, she faced him. She leaned in a little closely, trying to get him to understand. “You know...I have my own investigating to begin in Trindal,” she said slowly. “It was once joined with Trindal-VinCar as a single kingdom...Maybe I can find some answers there for you.”

He and Brick eyed her cautiously, and Torin said, “I would very much appreciate joining you.”

“Perhaps,” she smiled, patting his shoulder as she stood. Reaching the door, she found Cyrin on his way in. He bowed shortly to her and they moved to the table together.

“Good morning,” Cyrin greeted them. They replied and he took the seat across from Kiaran. “Is everything alright?”

They were quiet and his brows drew low. “There are some...worries, but they can be handled,” Kiaran replied finally. “I do have something I need to tell you, though.” Cyrin locked eyes with her and instantly knew what she was saying. “I’m going to Trindal.”

He shot her a glare; she knew that he wouldn’t argue her in front of others, thus, she gave her idea then. “Is there a reason you aren’t going to send some spies? They are specifically trained for this,” he finally said.

“I have my reasons,” she answered. She could see the argument rising in him, though he said nothing. “Ritiann is here, and if she needs assistance, I trust you fully with this country.”

"Me?” he barked. “Am I not going with you?”

She smiled a little, saying, “I don’t need an escort. I’ll be fine, Cyrin.”

“You can’t go alone.”

“I don’t plan to,” she frowned. Her eyes shifted to Torin who watched her closely. “I’ll be gone for a few weeks.”

“I will be sure she returns unscathed,” Torin said.

Smiling, she looked back to Cyrin who scowled a bit. “See? I have others to assist me.”

“Very well,” he huffed. He piled his plate with food while shaking his head. “Will you take anyone else?”

“If I did, I would draw more attention,” she replied.

“How do you mean?”

“I am going incognito. I will appear to be just a traveler, and the others will be my companions,” she explained. “It will seem less...conspicuous.”

After breakfast, Kiaran, Torin, and Brick moved to the courtyard. Cyrin had gone to speak with the general on the affairs of the coming war, baring some notes from Kiaran that she had previously scribbled. She had ideas for fending the country, but knew that Cyrin and the General would know better than her.

The air was cool with the mountains’ breeze but warm with the sun’s light. The three sat in the beautiful garden, enjoying the soft music as a few men played their instruments from a nearby terrace.

In this comfortable place, Kiaran explained her fear of Brinn and the wars they’ve had before, but only with Trindal. She told them of the magic war which lasted for decades and the damage it caused. She was reluctant, but showed a bit of fear.

A few quiet moments had passed, nervousness thick between them. Then, finally, Brick spoke first. “It is much calmer now than when we were here last,” he stated, thinking of the excitement and festivities.

“It is,” she nodded. “We have many celebrations like that which you saw last you were here. It isn’t often that we have nothing to celebrate.” She lowered her eyes to her hands that sat in her lap where Nurra perched.

Things were going well...but Grindall had to go mad. It seemed that no matter what Kiaran was doing, she was destined for war. Then, to learn that one of her closest friends was taken or killed? It broke her heart.

“...You don’t believe Davin is mad, do you?” Torin finally asked.

“No,” she shook her head. “Your brother is much more powerful than any man I’ve met.” He looked to her and she added, “But I have to wonder if Walter wasn’t talked into handing Davin over...”

“And we will find the information we need,” Brick replied strongly. “We’ll get to Trindal, and we’ll find answers.”

“I’m on better terms with Trindal than the other,” Kiaran sighed. “It is less likely that I will be noticed asking questions in Trindal-VinCar...It, unfortunately, will take time to find answers.”

“It will be difficult to hide your identity with your scars and tattoos,” Brick pointed.

“I will be careful,” she allowed a soft smile to spread. “Now,” she stood, “I am getting stiff. I’m going to train. You may join me or simply explore the city.”

“I’ll join,” they both said simultaneously.

She grinned and said, “Very well, follow me.”

Reaching the training grounds, Kiaran and Torin decided to spar while Brick waited. “I’ve practiced,” Torin warned her. “Stella is an excellent trainer.”

“Let us see about that,” she grinned eerily, like a cat ready for a hunt.

They began, weaponless, their fists flying through the air. Kiaran held back a bit, trying her hardest to keep from using her kicks. He wasn’t ready for that.

He had surprisingly increased his skill, dodging and blocking without difficulty. As the fight persisted, she had landed more hits where he had been unsuccessful. Finally, with a laugh, she swiped the feet out from under him. When he fell, she rested her hands on her hips and said, “Well fought, Torin.”

“I’ll likely never catch up to you,” he grunted, rubbing his hind end as he stood.

Brick laughed heavily, saying, “That won’t happen, Holloway! Sorry to break your heart!”

Kiaran grinned widely, breathing heavily after the physical activity. Torin dusted himself off, stretching his legs a bit as he walked a few feet away. “I’ve missed this,” Torin admitted.

“What, getting your arse kicked?” Brick boomed with laughter.

“Yes,” he snapped, but not without amusement. “That’s what I missed most of all.”

That evening, Kiaran had met with her mother on the veranda of the her chambers. They watched the sky fade from pink, to purple, then to the continuously darkening blue.

The two dragons lied between their chairs, Rathen nudging the stub where Nurra’s missing wing used to protrude. The darkness was cut by two, dim lanterns on either side of the veranda.

“You are leaving for Trindal?” Ritiann finally asked softly.

“I am,” she nodded, her voice just as quiet. Neither of them looked to one another, but continued to watch the sky above their city and mountains.

“Be careful, then,” her mother sighed. “You know not the dangers that magic can truly pose.”

“I will never let my guard down,” Kiaran assured her. “I have studied and I have trained. I can handle this, as can my friends.”

“I have no doubt in your strengths, my daughter,” she said. “However, I am afraid you underestimate its power.”

“I am confident but not foolishly so,” Kiaran said. “I am keeping myself unnoticed. Simply gathering information.”

Ritiann smiled, unconvinced. She knew that if something arose, Kiaran wouldn’t hesitate to fight. “I hope you are right,” she finally whispered.

Kiaran led her companions to the open field behind the stables where the rider dragons waited. “We’ll take the dragons to our city closest to Trindal. From there, we’ll take horses,” she explained. “We do not need to take our dragons out of Avestitia. It’s too dangerous.”

“Dangerous for whom?” Brick asked. “I was led to believe that a dragon—winged or not—was mighty beyond any beast.”

“Many magic-users would kill at the opportunity to take one of these dragons for their own use. We will not risk it,” she answered.

“Understood.”

Once reaching the field, they spotted Cyrin giving some orders to the dragon keeper. His eyes lifted to Kiaran and gestured for her to come. Without pause, she left the two men to see what he needed.

He bowed his head then said, “Kiaran.” Resting a hand on the hilt of his rapier, he continued, “This will possibly be the most dangerous thing you’ve done yet.”

“I am aware,” she replied. Nurra climbed up her side, perching on her shoulder. She stroked his little head, giving Cyrin very little attention.

“Are you?” he grunted. She narrowed her eyes at him and the debate began.

They proceeded the argument at a distance, Torin’s gaze stuck on them. He filled with the slightest resentment—and even envy—toward Cyrin. He worked closely with Kiaran over their time, and when they would speak, Torin could see a touch of concern flash in both of their eyes. Kiaran’s worry for upsetting Cyrin, and Cyrin’s for Kiaran being in danger.

It wasn’t until Brick said something that Torin noticed his fists flexing at his sides. Torin’s eyes shot to Brick who said, “...Are you sure you should go?”

“Why shouldn’t I?” He expected a lecture about his attraction to Kiaran, and due to his expectation he was unreasonably short with Brick.

His heavy brows lowered as his lips deepened into a disapproving frown. “You have a family to care for at home. I don’t, I could stay with Kiaran, but you...You have responsibilities elsewhere,” he said flatly.

“My responsibility proceeds far past husband and father,” he answered, his eyes drifting back to Kiaran. His duty would always lie where Kiaran needed it. However, the moment the words left his mouth, he hated himself. He sounded like a monster of a father.

Kiaran moved back to their side as Cyrin left back toward the castle. “The noble have his britches in knots?” Brick asked.

“Only a few this time,” she replied. “Everything is in order, the weather is cooperative, so let us be off,” she said.

They mounted their flightless dragons, the men looking uncomfortable. Brick sat awkwardly tense, grasping at the saddle’s handles on either side of the pommel. “There are no reigns. How do I steer?” he asked.

Kiaran’s dragon trotted to his side and she pointed to the pommel, saying, “This is more comfortable. You hold the handles when they run so you can lean forward more comfortably. As for leading, you simply tell them where to go or link your minds with them, which I will do. They are not horses, they are far more superior.”

“That’s amazing,” Brick shook his head.

“I know,” she smiled, pride swelling her.