Dragonbound: Birthrights (Book 2)

The battle in northern Avestitia was a strong one—and so far the only one. It was sure that Brinn didn’t have the numbers that Avestitia had, but their soldiers were strong. They were like mountains fighting the trees. Many of Avestitia’s soldiers had been downed, but they had finally backed the foreigners back into their country.

Cyrin was swarmed with soldiers and scouts and advisers and the general. Shutting them up and saying what they needed to hear, he stormed away.

He sat in his private yard, his elbows digging into the table before him, hiding his face in his hands. Inhaling deeply, he just wanted Kiaran to return. This was not his position, and he was afraid the people of Avestitia would disown her with her absence.

Ritiann silently made her way toward him, sitting across from him. He dropped one arm onto the table, watching her. She patted his hand motherly and said, “She will return, Dear. Do not be so worried.”

“I must be worried,” he grumbled. “But I will not show it in front of the others.”

“You are a true leader, Cyrin,” she smiled weakly. She seemed sick—more sick than in the past. Her face was sunken and pale, her eyes lined in shadows. She didn’t even bother putting her hair up, just allowing it to fall down her back in locks of black.

His eyes drifted past Ritiann to Elsibellem as she waited in the doorway. Her face revealed heartbreak and worry as she watched her queen. He never saw such emotion in the girl. Usually, she was quite simple, speaking only when spoken to and having an unreadable expression.

“You’ve done a wondrous thing here in Vintar...in Avestitia,” Cyrin said, looking back to the Queen.

“Do not speak to me as if I am dying,” she grinned. His eyes focused on her once again and she said, “People only say such things if they are afraid that one day they’ll never see them again.”

“I was saying it on behalf of my own possible death,” he said. She narrowed her eyes a bit and he said, “I need to go to the front-lines.”

“Cyrin, you...” she trailed off and sighed long and low. “If you must...But do not do anything rash.”

“I cannot promise that,” he smiled, though there was no amusement in it.

She used the table to push herself up and said, “I will retire to my rooms if anything is needed.” He nodded and she walked away.

He kept his head bowed, not noticing Elsibellem walking to him. Usually, she would join the queen and walk her back to her room. However, she stood at the table and Cyrin slowly lifted his eyes to her.

She was thin and short, not having much of a woman’s figure. Her slightly rounded face gave her the appearance of a younger woman, her short black hair framing it perfectly. Her slate gray eyes watched him for a moment before she bowed her head.

“What’s wrong?” he asked lowly.

She parted her lips to answer, but paused. She closed her mouth, changing her response, then said, “Are you going to the battle, Lord Cyrin?” He eyed her, a brow lowering and he slowly nodded. “I understand it is not my place...but...” she showed great reluctance to speak out of turn, but she forced herself to say what was on her mind, her voice weary. “Ritiann is not doing well, Lord Cyrin. I-I am afraid of what might happen if she—what if something happens while you and Princess Kiaran are gone?”

“Brambel will take over until I return,” he said. “But she will be fine, Elsibellem.”

“No...” she sighed. “I don’t quite agree.” Her eyes fought tears away, making his heart crack. “And I do not like Lord Brambel,” she whispered, choking away her crying.

He sighed lightly and stood. She bowed her head, keeping it low in his presence, as if he were the equivalent of a king. Touching her dainty shoulder, he said, “I do not either.” She tensed and slowly lifted her eyes to him. He smiled and a tear ran down her red cheek. “Sit, we will talk.”

She sat down, watching him with an odd expression. Cyrin brushed his hair into place as he sat back down, trying to figure out what her mind was thinking. “You’ve done well with Queen Ritiann,” he said.

“Thank you,” she dipped her head.

“How long have you worked with her?”

“Three years this season,” she answered. He nodded and she added, “Cy--Lord Cyrin?”

“You don’t have to call me that,” he muttered.

“Apologies,” she kept her eyes low. “Just...I want to ask you to be careful in the north.”

“I will not be reckless,” he responded.

“I-I wasn’t saying that,” she struggled to correct herself.

“You really aught to calm down,” he grinned a little and she flushed. “I take no offense to your suggestion. I will keep it in mind.”

She nodded and it grew quiet. A shadow shot over them and they looked to the sky above them. Ruthianna circled them and gently lowered herself to the earth. Her eyes shifted to Elsibellem who wiped her eyes in the presence of the large dragon. She narrowed her eyes at the human and trilled curiously at her. Cyrin stood, saying, “She will be fine, Ruthainna.”

“She worries?” Elsibellem asked.

“For anyone’s welfare,” he answered. He touched the dragon’s jaw, feeling her own emotion. It was clear to the dragon that beauty should never be darkened or lessened—even that of Elsibellem’s beauty. It should not be lessened by her sadness and tears.

Cyrin grinned a little. He had never looked at Elsibellem as more than an extension to Ritiann. It wasn’t on purpose, he just never saw her personality. She often kept hidden in the Queen’s shadows and saying nothing that was on her mind. That posed some curiosity in him. What was this girl like? How old was she? She looked less than twenty, but was likely older.

The dragon broke his thoughts by trilling and eyed him closely. He, then, felt the message from Kriettor. Kiaran was safe, though her friends would soon be heading through Avestitia to return home. That angered him, but the message wasn’t complete.

Kriettor promised that Avestitia would be safe for the time being. He had felt the rumbles of war around him, and he will do all he can to keep the enemies within their own borders in Kiaran’s absence. Also, she was finding some important information that was unfolding massive events that could be devastating. She must continue her work, and she was not alone.

Cyrin was enraged, but refused to argue the Great Dragon, Kriettor. He scowled under his breath, his expression shocking Elsibellem slightly. Without further response to Ruthianna, he stalked toward the door. Elsibellem stood and moved to follow him, but paused. He looked over his shoulder at her and said, “You can go wherever you feel. Stay here, go to Ritiann, I do not care.”

She wanted to respond, but forced herself to stop. She wanted to follow Cyrin, but knew it was best to avoid that entire thought. “Do you need any assistance?” she finally asked.

“None that anyone could provide,” he muttered. “Thank you, though.” With that, he was gone.

By the time they reached Urlanai, the sun was setting along the west walls, casting a golden light across the tan bricks. The walls stood so tall that Kiaran had to crane her neck to see the top where rows of yellow flags were posted. Everything seemed to be washed out with the golden color, as if no other colors were known within the city.

The gates were left open, allowing people inside without incident. Apparently, crime wasn’t so bad within Urlanai, or they would have strict guidelines as to who was allowed past the gate. Kiaran pulled the hood of her new cloak over her head and rode in calmly, Davin at her side. A few guards were posted at the opening, but said nothing to her, hardly even looked at her.

Either there was no crime, or the soldiers were fearless—however she doubted that. The people of Trindal seemed worried—they seemed on edge.

Once inside the city, they looked at all the buildings they passed. They were small homes, only one or two stories. The further they traveled, the more businesses there were. Several, tall buildings stood several stories high, adorned with gold decor and white drapery. There were still many people out as the shadows drew out long and deep.

Kiaran’s horse trotted proudly and Nurra hid in her hood, watching the city drift by lazily. There was much laughter and many people rushing about. It seemed that the street’s decor were recently placed. Perhaps there were festivities on the way. That sounded ideal. The more travelers there were, the less likely she was to stand out.

“I’ll look for an inn,” Kiaran said.

“I need a few supplies. So I will find you.” With that, they departed.

Finally, she found a small tavern, the upper floor full of rooms to rent out. She found a place to tie up her horse and entered. A plump woman cleaned the bar, scowling as the men dirtied it up again. The tables were full of people, most of them looking rough from travel and a few scarred from battle. Keeping her hood on, she wandered to the barmaid. Nurra watched from beneath her hood, his claws kneading her shoulders a bit.

“I don’t have any room here if that’s what you need,” the woman grunted. “I do have some ale if that strikes your fancy.”

“Oh, no thank you,” Kiaran replied. “Do you know where might be vacant?”

“Not a clue,” she shook her head.

She frowned, but nodded. She turned, and left in search of a place to stay. She rode the horse across several streets, finding that each of the inns were taken.

Growing aggravated and hungry, she hitched up her horse in a nearby yard. On two sides, it was surrounded by two different buildings, both tall and isolated. The wall around the city was blocking the other area. It was rather private with a few small trees and flowered plants.

Sitting nearby in the grass, she rummaged through her belongings until she found her food. She propped herself up on one hand, her legs stretched out ahead of her. Eating some dried meat and some fruit, her stomach was less irritated, though her attitude was still the same. It seemed she would have to sleep in the yard until further notice.

It was dark and the streets were quiet, pose for a few guards that mostly just talked amongst themselves. Nurra lied in the grass at her side, leaning against her leg. At her other side was her sheathed sword, the street lamps glowing softly against it. Taking one last bite, she stretched, and lied down. What was taking Davin so long?

Her mind hardly allowed any sleep while she napped. There was so much mystery in the behavior of Rishana and Brinn and the other countries. The ideas of curses and magic and betrayal. They were all alarming and caused her to feel fear for Avestitia. How bad could things become in her absence? If all the countries were rounding up on Sterjia’s behalf...

She squeezed her eyes, hoping to fall asleep, though she didn’t. “A curse,” she whispered as Nurra slinked up to her chest, cuddling against her arm. “Could a curse be so dangerous?”

He trilled softly and touched his nose to hers. She suddenly startled to a quick poke to the shoulder. She sat up quickly and faced Davin to her surprise. “You are sleeping in the yard?” he asked flatly.

“Every inn I could find had no vacancy,” she replied, her voice still very tired. “How did you find me out here? This city is large.”

He smiled a little, sitting beside her cross-legged. “Nurra found me, led me here,” he answered. She rubbed her eyes, hardly able to keep them open. “You just haven’t learned how to work around here,” he replied. “I will find us a place.”

“That is unlikely,” she grunted. “This city is swarming with travelers.”

“You just don’t know how to work the people,” he shrugged.

There was a bit of silence between them as an abnormally cold wind hit them. She pulled her cloak over her shoulders, surprised by the chill. “I feel that there are some things you still haven’t explained,” she finally said.

He didn’t reply, opening a little pouch of food. He handed her some fresh bread and half an apple and they ate together. “I haven’t,” he agreed. “Do you know who gifted the cursed throne to Rishana?” She shook her head. He took a bite and chewed on it for a moment. “The queen of Trindal-VinCar.” Kiaran eyed him and he swallowed his food. “Walter was speaking with her before my attempted abduction.”

“...Do you know much about the queen?” Kiaran slowly asked.

“Just that she is the one that took over after Trindal-VinCar's massive war that stretched on for a few decades. Most view her as the savior of the land. She was the only person capable of taking rule and calming things down. Though, I don’t agree with her views. Their laws from what I’ve heard are ridiculous,” he answered.

She pondered back for a moment, picturing his throne. Then, it registered and her brows drew low. Brinn’s throne was nearly identical--what if they truly were cursed? “Your throne had griffins on it, no?”

“Yes,” he said, lowering a brow as he sank his teeth into his bread.

“Grindall had the same throne,” she wondered aloud. Nurra tilted his head at her and she touched her fingers to his little horns. “He attacked my country, though I have no idea why. We’ve never had any issues with that country in the past.”

“Perhaps...they were cursed in the same way Rishana was,” he suggested.

“How can we know for sure?” she clenched her teeth uneasily.

She could feel Davin's eyes lingering on her and she tensed further. The words he wrote in his journal...and knowing that she had read them, she thought he'd be a bit more timid with her.

Touching her shoulder, he stood and said, “I know of a place we might be able to stay.”

“How?” she stood with him. How did he possibly know where to go?

He simply smiled at her and took the last bite of his food. Taking his horse by his reigns, he led him and Kiaran to the street. Finding a random inn that she had already tried, they tied their horses up and went inside.

It was much quieter as everyone slept through their drunkenness. The round woman from previously was cleaning some glasses, her face scowling as she worked. Her eyes lifted to Davin and he smiled at her. She sat the cup down and placed the stray bits of hair back into place.

“You are back,” she said. Her eyes shifted to Kiaran who—this time—wasn’t wearing her hood. The scars and dotted tattoo along her cheekbone drew the woman back.

“Do you happen to have any rooms left, Ashlynne?” he asked kindly.

“Well...” she finally pulled her eyes off of Kiaran and faced him, her hands on her wide hips. “I only have one...and it is a small one. You need it?”

Davin glanced back to Kiaran who breathed heavily. “We’ll take it, thank you.”

“You’re lucky,” a gruff, broad man laughed as he joined the woman in cleaning. “We will be busy for the next few nights. Many festivities and celebrations. Are you here to perform?”

“Oh, no,” Davin grinned. “We do not have musical talents.”

“I see,” he nodded, his gaze catching a glimpse of Kiaran’s scars as she looked about the room. “Well...Enjoy your stay,” he said.

The woman gave him a key and told him where to go. They headed up the stairs to the room where they paused with their belongings. Davin unlocked the door, his fingers on the doorknob, hesitant to push it open. His eyes moved back to Kiaran as she waited. “I suppose we could look elsewhere for a second room,” he offered.

She grunted and shook her head. “There won’t be anything,” she grumbled.

“I understand you are uncomfortable with this,” he began slowly, “But I am willing to sleep in the floor. I will respect your privacy, do not worry about that.”

She stared at him, unsure of what to think. It was unusual for someone to respect her when it was so easy for him to take advantage of this. It had been a couple years since she had lived with Nathanial, but his way of living still haunted her.

His hand continued to rest on the knob as he stared at her. Her eyes moved up to his and they remained motionless...Finally, he said, “I mean that, Kiaran.”

Something about the way he said that made her heart jump. She nodded her head slightly and he pushed the door open. Their feet echoed softly as they stepped inside. A single bed sat in the middle of the room, a table against the wall nearby. One window sat just beside the bed, the curtains pulled aside so the visitor could admire the scenery of the busy city.

Davin tossed his pack beside the chair and sat down. Kiaran gently sat her’s at the foot of the bed. Removing her cloak and jacket, she slung it across the blankets that wrapped around the mattress. Sitting down, the frame squeaked slightly.

The scar on her arm shined somewhat as she turned, adjusting the pillows beside her. She noticed his eyes on it and her memory reverted back to the wolves. Her dreams as she fought that fever...All she could dream about was Davin. The memories made her face flush a bit, so she tore her gaze away. She removed her belt and sword, sitting them with her bags.

Fluffing up the pillows some more, she thrust herself atop them, folding her arms behind her head. She crossed her feet as she stretched out on her back, sighing. Davin slinked in his chair, sluggishly kicking his boots off. His elbows lethargically draped over the arms of the chair.

She watched him as his lids dropped and he slowly drifted to sleep. His head hung low, his hair covering his eyes from her. She sighed. It seemed so incredibly uncomfortable to sleep in that chair, and yet he fell asleep within seconds. He must have been exhausted.

...He chose the chair over the bed.

A smile spread across her lips. It never failed to baffle her...the feeling of having a good friend. It was always overwhelming. And before she knew it, she, also, was asleep.

The muffled sounds of music woke her, her brows lowering. Her arms were numb, still folded behind her head. She was so sound asleep that she did not move the entire night. Opening her eyes, she pulled her arms to her sides, grimacing slightly.

It felt so nice to sleep, and her muscles resented her for moving. Forcing herself to sit, she slung her legs over the edge of the bed. Davin was still asleep, however, he was sitting sideways with a leg slung over an arm of the chair.

Rubbing her eye, she tried to wake him, “Davin,” she said. He was unresponsive. “Davin,” she tried again, her voice gruff from sleeping. Sighing heavily, she stood and nudged his shoulder. He moved his head slightly with a grunt, but he was still asleep. Rolling her eyes, she kicked his foot that was still planted on the ground.

He shot up, wiping a hand over his face, pushing his hair aside, though it fell back across his forehead. Stretching his chest outward, he groaned deeply. The music perked his ears and he said, “I take it you are ready to join the festivities?”

“I am ready to eat,” she corrected.

“Aye, well, that seems like a great idea,” he grunted as he stretched and stood. “I wonder how much of the day we’ve slept away...”

“I’d say almost half of it,” she judged, leaning forward to see the sun through the window.

Kiaran twisted to stretch her back before heading for the door. The two sleepily made their way down the stairs, the music becoming louder. Kiaran lead the way, rounding the corner at the bottom of the staircase. She came to an abrubt halt, nearly running into a tall, broad man. Davin was rubbing a hand over his face, not realizing she had stopped. Bumping into her, he rammed her into the man.

“Sorry,” Davin said as he moved around them.

The man looked over his shoulder, his sky-blue eyes landing on her. It felt as though she had paused to take in his look. He smiled, his black hair lining his face handsomely.

She could feel Davin’s hot stare as he poked a finger to her elbow. Slowly, she followed him away into the crowd of excited people. The music carried on without rest as the maidens took food to their customers.

The tables all seemed full, both Kiaran and Davin looking about to find a place to sit. The man did not exaggerate when saying they’d be filled. Finally, Davin pointed to a booth, empty of people. They quickly made their way over, hoping to reach it before anyone else spotted it.

Sitting across from one anther, Kiaran grinned. The thought of a hot, fresh meal was accompanied by the smells from the kitchen. “Oh, that food smells amazing,” she sighed.

“Absolutely,” he nodded.

Soon enough, a waitress headed her way to them. Her hair was braided, the red and blonde hairs twisting together. Her green eyes sat on Davin for a moment and then to her hands. “Good evening,” she said, “Will you be dining tonight?”

“We will,” Davin nodded.

“And for the drinks? Anything special?”

“Water,” Kiaran replied.

“Likewise,” he nodded.

She nodded and walked away, her skirt dusting the floor as she went. The people clapped and clanked cups together while others sang along with the music.

Across the room still stood the man she had run into. His attention moved to Kiaran and she could feel it. Reluctantly, she glanced toward him, but quickly looked back to Davin. There was something that was strange about that man...The way he looked at her...

Davin could notice the way she sat, her back straight and her body tense. Her eyes were stern, focusing on Davin’s hands as he folded them together on the table. Leaning in slightly, he cut into her gaze and she blinked heavily. “Are you alright?” he asked, his voice muffled by the music.

“Aye,” she nodded.

The young woman returned with a tray of food and water. Placing the plates and cups on the table, her attention fell upon Kiaran’s scarred eye. Hesitantly, she backed away, leaving them to eat.

Kiaran touched a hand to her face, suddenly self conscious. Gently, she felt the bottom tips of the scars where her tattoos dotted along her cheekbone. Memories of the golden dragon ripping through her to escape flooded through her. She could remember being held against Davin’s chest as he rushed her back to town, the rain beating on them. Most of that week was difficult to recall, as she slept on and off for most of the time. Her days had all blended together.

The second the smell of her roast and potatoes reached her nose, her mind broke from her thoughts and she snatched up her fork. Food. It smelled so amazing and delicious.

She shoveled the food in like she hadn’t eaten in weeks. Davin began eating as well, surprised by the taste. Kiaran laughed and he paused. Grinning, she spoke lowly, “This food is so amazing, and yet we live in castles. We get great food every day.” He laughed with her.

“So you were already in Urlanai?” she asked, lifting her almond shaped eyes to him.

“I was,” he nodded.

“I am assuming your job here was done,” she said. “So why did you agree to come back?”

“You asked me to,” he answered simply.

The answer brought a smile to her lips, albeit a small one, but it was existent. He went back to Urlanai simply because she had requested it?

Sitting back, Kiaran shoved her now empty plate to the side, feeling filled and content. The sun had disappeared from the windows, the moon taking its place. The music changed tempo and was up-beat and had heavy drums.

It reminded her of the music the Zeil often played. She smiled...she missed them. As the drums carried on, the lute and other instruments filled in, giving it an all knew sound.

“I am curious...” Davin began. Kiaran faced him, waiting for the question. “It is unusual that you knew how to read. When were you taught?”

“When Grace was born, her mother died. The only way to keep her alive was to have a wet-nurse. She found it unacceptable that I couldn’t read,” she trailed off, thinking of the beautiful, elder woman who had an even more glorious heart...Kassa was her name, if she remembered correctly. “It was the first time anyone thought of me being more than...me.”

Davin saw her mind growing distant as she replayed her memories. “She was a good woman?” he asked.

She nodded. “That is when I learned to read. Ms. Kassa thought it was completely unheard of to have a young girl and never teach her to read...and she thought it was also awful that I never knew how to dance.” Davin raised a brow and she rolled her eyes. “She tried in vain, for Nathanial scolded us each time she tried.”

“Show me what she’s taught you,” he grinned and stood. “I’ve learned a bit myself once taking my position in...Rishana.”

Laughing, she shook her head, “No, no, I am fine, thank you.”

“You brought it up for a reason, I’m sure deep down you want to dance,” he said in amusement.

“Ha, perhaps deep, DEEP down,” she laughed nervously. “I was simply trying to converse.”

His lips curled in one corner, grinning sideways. She loved that smile; it melted her. Inhaling slowly, she stood and took his outstretched hand.

They moved between the bodies as they danced lazily. She felt his full attention on her and she felt hot all over. It was impossible to keep from looking to him. She wanted his gaze, she wanted his eyes on her. That was the only time in her life that she could recall that feeling, and it was only with Davin that she had any sort of cravings at all.

“You know, it’s been at least ten years,” she informed him.

“You will look no more a fool than anyone else in this room,” he replied. The people around them danced off beat and were uncoordinated. “The worst that will happen is you will fit in,” he laughed.

She grinned, her face flushing. Everything in her told her not to dance, it was unnatural for her. It was a form of a beautiful art, theatrical--Kiaran was not theatrical. She was strictly physical. She was a fighter.

“Come,” he urged her, “Let me see.”

An uncomfortable laugh escaped her lungs as she shook her head. He clasped her hand in his, her other hesitant to rest on his shoulder. He held her by the side gently and they began to dance. She mostly only followed Davin’s lead, however she remembered the few bits of advice from her instructor. Delicate--Make your fingers delicate. Do not look stiff--Kassa’s demands. With that, she loosened her muscles, relaxing slightly.

Her feet and body relaxed as she moved with the flow of the song, dancing more naturally with Davin. The white shirt that hugged her body swirled with her as Davin spun her. He smiled, surprised by her quick feet. Perhaps the fighting abilities kept her agility and balance, allowing her to dance so easily.

The song came to a stop and Davin kept hold of her hand, bowing to her. Standing once more, he said, “You dance well, Kiaran.”

She let out an uncomfortable chuckle and shrugged a shoulder. “Not any better than anyone else,” she replied. Her hand moved to her stomach and she said, “...I believe I have eaten too much to be dancing.”

“Agreed,” he snickered.

They moved toward the door and the blue-eyed man stepped toward them. His tender, pale hand touched Kiaran’s shoulder and she shot him a quick glare. They stopped and he bowed his head for a moment. Without saying a word, and his lips in a thin line, he gently placed something in her hand and walked away. She followed him with her eyes, though he disappeared in the crowd.

“What did he give you?” Davin asked.

“I don’t know,” she whispered, looking to her hand. It was a small square of cloth, silk in a rusty color. Unfolding it, she revealed a small shard of glass that seemed to hold a green smoke within it. Her brows lowered and Davin eyed it curiously.

Taking her by the wrist, he led her outside where it was busy as well. It seemed they’d never find a place quiet enough to speak, and neither of them wanted to stay inside for much longer.

Finally, they found a less crowded street where they sat on a bench. Nurra crept through the people, somehow unnoticed. He sat between them, his tail wrapping around Kiaran’s wrist.

“May I see that shard?” Davin asked.

She handed it to him and he unwrapped the cloth, looking it over. As he touched the top of the shard, all the smoke seemed to go toward his finger. “It seems like...magic,” Kiaran breathed, leaning in to look at it.

Davin’s eyes focused just past the glass to Kiaran’s eyes as she scrutinized the object. “Could it be bad?” He didn’t fully grasp her question, too taken by her beauty and curiosity.

“It could be,” he shrugged. “I don’t know.” He looked to Nurra and said, “Dragon’s might know.”

She sighed and asked Nurra if he knew what it was. He sniffed it and confusion washed over him. He wasn’t curious as to what it was, but how she had gotten it. He trilled, locking eyes with her. To better communicate, he touched his nose to hers. She gasped as he pulled away. Blinking away her shock, she finally faced Davin.

“The stone is certainly magic. It’s usually only held by a sage--one of prestige...and not just any sage, but..a magical one.”

“Why would he give you that?”

“To find him?” she shrugged. “Certainly he knew we’d want to know more about this, and it was very loud and busy. How could he speak to us?”

“He said nothing, though,” he replied flatly.

“I know,” she muttered, taking the shard from him. She held it closely, her eyes reflecting on the smooth glass.

“Perhaps we will look into this, but we won’t go unarmed,” he said.

“Of course not,” she smiled, hiding the item back in its cloth. She couldn’t help but feel an overpowering feeling of completeness. It felt right to be on a mission again, though she felt guilty for sending away Torin and Brick.