Chapter Fourteen

If anything, the fact that having to climb to the top of the highest mountain in the area has not made my day at all, rather crushing my spirits even more as the Duke tied our horses down to a tree a few miles back as the trail got too dangerous. It is not the fact that that the cliff beside where I walk is a plummet into an endless abyss, but that the weather has begun to change ever since our trio left our horses. No, the weather has not just changed in temperature or the snow falling, but the clouds...the clouds swirl around the peak of the mountain we are headed to, the clouds seeming to glow golden, lightning strikes not running vertical, but horizontally in the sky. Duke Gravon said it is because a demigod is reaching out to his mother, to a goddess that crafted the most dangerous beasts of the realm and struck fear into the heavens and hell. As I look away from the frightening sky and to the landscape surrounding us, the other mountains hold no comparison to the one we are hiking upon, the trees below like ants, the frozen rivers looking like cracks in an artist's painting, and the white stone Temple looks like nothing more but a pebble.

"Tell me, Lady Candice, have you ever been up to such heights?" Duke Gravon asks, looking down to the abyss with me. If I was completely honest I would say that I have flown in the skies, a passport in my bag and a ticket allowing me to fly from the city I grew up in to halfway across the world. I remember that time my mother took me with her on one of her adventures, how we stopped in India, and while I wanted to indulge myself in the culture, mother was on an archaeological dig, leaving me with a hired nanny to make sure I stayed within the limits of my mother's orders. That was the first time I saw my mother in her natural habitat, dressed from head to toe in what you would expect an archaeologist to wear, her headphones drowning out the voices around her, and a certain atmosphere around her. That trip was the first time I had ever heard her not just yell at others, but yell at me, telling me to stay out of her business when I asked her if I could go out and explore one of the local sights. I was just twelve when I smelled strong alcohol on her breath and expected her to hit me for some impatience. I swore I would never go on a trip with her ever again, nor did she ever ask me anyway. I only went with her because her sister urged her to spend time with me rather than me spend my summer break at some boarding school where I learned to appreciate the arts. Have I forgiven my mother for all the times she shut me out and wanted to forget the world around her? I have, I have because I love my mother, because even if it may seem like she never loves or would even care for me, she does. She is the woman who brought me into this world and she is my family, my flesh and blood, and nothing could take that away from me. But she is delusional in a sense, to that my father and her husband may return home before she decides to shut out his memory forever.

"I am afraid not, Duke Gravon," I reply, peering over the cliff even more as I see the dirt moving from under my foot, heading for the cliff, falling off and into the dark abyss where time seems to not exist. "There are not many mountains from the territory of my pack." I still must play along with my being werewolf, at least not in front of the King as he knows exactly what I am. As for who I am, I pray that he never finds out.

"Dragons are not the gentlest creature to ride upon, their scales digging into your flesh with a sharp turn, and the power of their wings...my, they can blow the roof off a house with one mighty stroke," Gravon comments, a small smile kissing his lips as I imagine anyone riding a beast I am only familiar with in fairy tales. "Oh course, the age of those who tamed those creatures and would fly into parties on them, those days are long gone."

"People used to fly them to parties?" I am in awe at the thought of someone arrived at some masquerade dressed up in elegant attire having just hopped from a beast known for burning villages and stealing princesses. "I would think them more useful for battle."

The Duke nods, offering me his hand as there is a steep step to be climbed. Taking his hand, he helps me up the step, my eyes drifting to the King who still paces himself from us like before, not caring to tangle himself in our conversation. "Yes, they were ever so dangerous in battle, but dragons were also a sign of immense wealth as only the royals or warlords could afford to make the reigns to tame the beasts, daring to make such entrances all for the approval of the crowd. The age of those who fly upon the dragons is long gone, at least for two centuries. There are statues in the soldier's quarters of the King's palace of knights riding upon the dragons as they face armies." The way the Duke speaks of these days, it as if he is recalling some story that once inspired him. The spark in his eye resembles that of a child speechless at a sight so beautiful that it motivates them. The Duke talks of those who rode on dragons as if legends, those who made an impact, who were able to accomplish such an action to be remembered for centuries.

"It sounds amazing," I reply, the only way to describe the idea of people riding dragons. Would I like to try that? I would be a fool to say no but knowing that dragons are seen with a negative context, I would have to rethink it when taking in the likelihood of a dragon wanting to be strapped down after having run free for centuries. "And the King's mother, as the goddess of the dragons, I take it she has ridden one."

The Duke shrugs his shoulders. "Goddesses and gods are not known for their interactions in the realm of Iduna really, especially for allowing the common folk to witness their presence, but I would expect that-

"Why should Dregh's interactions with her creations be any of our concerns?" Kyril asks, placing his input into the conversation as he stops, waiting for us to catch up. His eyes are a bright blue, as if a sky without any clouds, a bright blue that seems to spark up the darkness surrounding him. "Dregh is simply a goddess who does not make time to impact our lives, so why should we concern our lives with the thoughts of what she has done or will do." He speaks of his mother as if someone he has little patience for, as someone he finds to be a chore to consider. I know he found the woman that his father married to be the woman he called his mother, but he speaks of his actual mother as if she has no place in his heart sure. And yes, the gods and goddesses may have strong children like Kyril for game and bets, but it amazes me distant connection that these deities keep with their children. The moment Kyril's gaze meets my stare, I find myself taking in a shaky breath, my shoulders tensing as I try and think of something to switch the topic to. But I cannot simply change the subject when the woman we speak of is about to be in our presence. "As for what is to happen within the hour, Lady Candice," the King begins, taking a step towards me as I catch up, his presence looming over me. "When you are spoken to by Dregh, you do not speak to her right way, but wait for my approval. When she looks to you, you will never look to her because your head will be bowed the entire time as you kneel to her. When she calls upon the crust of hell to break and allow the darkest monsters to roam free, you stay silent. You will carry none of that spirit that you do with me or anyone else. One word spoken out of line and she will not dare give you a second glance before turning you to ask and chaining your soul to an endless room of darkness."

That shuts me up from any quick response, fear entering my souls as I hear these rules that the King has just set forth. Do not even look at her? What would I imagine her to look like? Perhaps flaming red hair, black eyes, pale skin, and a cape that holds dragon scales, but I have never seen a goddess. I have no idea what standards to hold goddesses to for their appearances as I have never laid eyes upon one. Maybe Dregh is one of the gods Soka said that her kind prayed to. I wonder who prays to Dregh and how many gods there are in this realm. I wonder how she made dragons, how she allowed herself to have children merely for entertainment and bets and wrapped herself up in a haven away from people. But most of all, I wonder why Kyril insists on my attendance when he visits his mother, why he wants me to stand before the goddess and pray that she does not strike me down. But I can understand why Kyril has eyes that glow different colors, resembling galaxies of the universe, oncoming storms to frighten his enemies, and how they hold some sort of power to them. The eyes are the window to the soul, yet I cannot read his soul. "If I am to speak no words or draw no attention to myself, then why must I be present for this meeting?" I ask, the King's head looking down upon me, lips pressed together in a firm line as I hold my ground. It is a legit question.

Kyril takes wraps his fingers around my arm, gripping it tightly as I feel a sort of electric spark. It could be what he calls that mate bond, but it could also just be an electric shock-like feel seeing that he is half of a godly power. "The blood of a lamb." It sounds religious, like something you would find in a religious text, but the way Kyril says it, something tells me darker moments are head. "The blood of a lamb shall silence the wind and call upon the storm." My eyebrows knit together, my body moving back as I pull my arm from Kyril's hold, a tug at the corner of his lips occurring. "Now, let us go forth, for we are almost there."

Turning around, the King continues the hike, the Duke and I following in pursuit as the wind only draws stronger, making me wonder how the blood of a lamb can silence the wind that only seems to be growing more powerful. How could we even find a lamb here to slaughter, all the way up on this mountain. Do lambs even exist here? I would assume so since Kyril mentioned the name of the animal, but I do not know if he is saying something symbolic or is just going mad. As we only near the peak of the mountain, the clouds hold a darker tint, like a dark purple, the clouds swirling around the peak where I can make out the outline of some statue. It looks like just a simple gray stone, a pillar with a sphere on top. With every step, the ground seems to become more unsteady, as if the dirt beneath our feet has begun to shift like the clouds. There are a few steps leading down to a circular cutout where the stone pillar is located, the dirt colored onyx black, the pillar holding symbols on the sides, my mind processing the symbols right as I read them. The peak we are on, it is called Dragon's Landing, giving a perfect name for meeting the goddess of dragons and fire. Kind of a cheesy name. As for the rest of the symbols, they tell a story, a story of a child born from ashes and rising into a flame, wings sprouting from her back, a mighty stroke every time she flew that was able to snap the trunks of trees, and the crafting she begun that would soon transform into dragons the moment she breathed fire into their lungs and greed into their souls. If anything, Dregh is appearing scarier by the moment.

"So how do we call her?" I ask, turning to the Duke as he stands next to me, his face pale unlike before. His eyes hold fear, something I did not want to see as I wanted to rely on him for reassurance that this goddess is not as bad as she seems. After all, the last line of symbols on the pillar told of a battle where Dregh called upon her most loyal dragon, unleashing hell not just upon the army, but on women, children, and a strip of land that is cursed by her fire.

"How does the prey call its predator?" the Duke responds, meeting my gaze as my heart races in my chest.

"The prey does not call its predator," I reply, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

"That is where you are wrong, for the moment that the prey comes out of hiding the predator has picked up their scent. The moment the smell of prey reaches the predator, they are hooked."

Looking to the King who stands at the opposite side of the pillar, I watch as he takes out his sword, his eyes meeting mine as those orbs become darker than night. It is as if his stare holds me in a trance, every step he takes towards me only making me think of the lamb. A lamb is innocent, a graceful creature who follows their shepherd. A lamb has never killed. The moment that the King stands before me, his sword in hand, his free hand reaching out to grab mine, I pull away, taking a quick step back. "I am not a lamb," I state, my voice stern as the wind only picks up. "You still need me alive, my King, you still need me alive."

"And I will keep you alive, I just need the blood of a lamb. The innocent little female who would never dare harm another creature."

Reaching out again, he misses as I jump back, only for the back of my heel to hit one of the steps, my body falling backwards as the King acts fast. But I act faster. The moment he lunches for me, I roll over, clothes covered in the black dirt, rising to my feet as I grab the sword from the Duke before he can hide it from me. Lifting the sword, I hold it out, pointing at the King as he stands up, shaking his head. "It seems like you forget what I am. It is so strange that someone who seems so intelligent could be so forgetful."

The sword flies from my hand, right past the King as it lands in the dirt, far from reach. The King lifts his hand, flicking his wrist as the dirt moves beneath my feet, pulling me towards him. Right away I run, trying to head in the opposite direction, only for the dirt to move opposite of my direction at a faster speed. Like running up an escalator, I cannot do it, I cannot match or even increase my speed to get out of this trap, my lungs beginning to burn as I find myself only being pulled towards the King that awaits his prey. The moment my back feels a sharp edge pressed against it, the dirt stops moving and the King takes my left hand, raising it up to the sky. Taking the blade, he runs it across my palm, applying pressure as I hiss at the stringing pain, my eyes watering as I witness a trail of my own blood trickle down my arm. Instantly the King pulls me with him towards the pillar, placing my bloody hand on the sphere at the top, the cold stone only making the pain worse as I try and fight his hold, but as he lets go of me, the wind stops.

The blood of the lamb has silenced the wind, meaning that my predator has smelt my blood, calling it to me, and that the oncoming storm is near. As the clouds in the sky darker to black and a red lightning bolt hits the side of the mountain, I shriek, ducking for cover as the lightening seems to surround us. Looking to where the first strike hit, I see a fire growing from it, the flames white and blue, a shadow in the flames, the shadow taking the shape of a female. Dregh. And just as silence fills the mountain top, time standing still, and an atmosphere forms around me, one of fear and cowardice. The flames begin to die down, decreasing in size as they seem to be swallowed by the ground, slowly unveiling the goddess before us as I clutch my hand, blood running down my arm. "So, my latest creation has called upon his creator," a voice rings out, one that I do not know whether to call it beautiful or terrifying. She talks with a poise you would expect a proud and demanding ruler to possess, a sense of darkness lurking behind that tongue of hers. "Calling upon his creator with the blood of one so innocent to this realm, a species time has tried to forget."

Kyril takes my arm, pushing me down to my knees roughly, reminding me to follow the instruction that he gave just minutes ago. To bow my head, to not look to her, to not speak to her, and to show no sign of disrespect. Duke Gravon takes the same stance as me, bowing his head as he closes his eyes from the temptation to gaze upon the goddess. "Where did you find this little fox, a little girl who too holds a silver tongue." She has called me a fox, a creature both sly and selfish. "She is fresh to Iduna."

Kyril moves from me, his boots digging to the black dirt as I allow my eyes to remain open, focusing them on the ground as I dare not look to the goddess no matter how much I wish to. I am scared that she could turn me into ashes within my first sign of disrespect. "She came through a crack in space, mighty Dregh," Kyril responds to his mother, calling her what anyone else would. His own mother does not wish to be spoken to like she gave birth to him, no, for she only wanted to have him for the entertainment. Now her entertainment calls upon her for reasons I do not yet understand. Kyril decided to pay his mother a visit just days ago when I pushed his limits, not telling me why his mother would be useful to anything except remind me that he holds so much power that I should never think about angering him again. "I would have put her to sleep by now at the bottom of a river, but she holds so much value to the search for Heka."

I thought that the gods and goddesses did not concern themselves with the life down below, but if Dregh knows of my father and perhaps is involved with the search for him, then I am scared. If my father did go around slaughtering the children of these gods, then they would want revenge for the cost my father took from them. No, I doubt the gods would want to find my father for slaughtering their children for sentimental reasons that a parent should possess, but for the damage to their source of entertainment. "She can translate the words he writes upon stone and paper, can she?" Dregh asks, her voice getting closer as I realize that she is approaching me, a magnetic pull for my eyes to look to her only getting stronger. "You need her to track him better, a man that has the power to cloak himself from the gods. I take it that you do not fully trust a word that leaves her mouth."

A pair of feet come before me, where shoes would be on her feet is a layer of purple dust, dark purple as it seems to be in the pattern of scales, fading away the higher you look to her legs. Unlike anyone I have seen in this realm, her dress is different from what I can tell, a short train behind her of a dark gray dress, the fabric covering her mid-thigh and higher. As my eyes are tempted further upward, I can see the design of her attire, the long sleeves that drape around her wrists, dark green scales sewed into the material from the elbows and below. I remind myself to not look higher, lowering my head as the goddess takes a step around, beginning to circle me as I see smoke rising from every footprint she leaves. "She wishes to return back home, thus we cannot trust every word," Kyril confirms, clearing his throat as I can tell he is nervous.

"So why did you bring her here?"

Silence, the goddess finishing her circle around me as I am left looking back at her ankles where I can make out thin, white tattoos on the inner-side of her feet, patterns of circles that intersect, lines interwoven in the shapes, and dots along the center.

Sparks run through my body, my skin paling as I find my chin lifted, my eyes taking in every inch of the goddess as she leans down before me, looking right at me. The front of her dress is breathtaking, the gray material becoming scales the higher up, a low scoop in the front as her heart is on full display, dark purple, every twist of it shown as it seems to glow through her pale skin, like some illusion. A necklace around her neck holds a red stone with sharp edges, her black hair draped over her shoulders as it falls to her jagged collarbones, holding a wavy texture as I find my eyes moving further up her features. An oval face, high cheekbones, full and dark lips, eyebrows anyone would be jealous of, and those eyes...those eyes that hold every secret to the universe. She seems to hold all of space and time with one glance, dark colors swirling in her orbs as she takes in my appearance, scanning me over like some art critic. It is as if she is reading right into my naked soul, stripping me down to the basics of life.

A smile, one that makes my heart skip a beat in fear, tugs at her lips, her fingers releasing my chin as it feels a slight burn. Rather than walk away, she grabs my bloody arm, pulling me up to my feet as her fingers run over my cut palm, a glowing light appearing as the wound is healed. Looking over her shoulder to Kyril, she smiles, a laugh filling the dead air. "You did not bring her here just because she is a key to finding Heka, my dearest little son," Dregh begins, turning back to me as her hand cups my cheek, head tilting to the left. "No, you brought her here as if to gain some sort of relief or sense of pride. You think this little human to be your soul mate."

"My mother, that is not why I am here, I am here to offer you the missing puzzle piece to finding Heka," Kyril refutes, looking nervous as Dregh pulls me closer to her.

"You would protect her from anything, Kyril, and that is such a shame." A shame? What does she mean by it being a shame? "Because I have already read her past, her memories, her reasons, and the motivation that keeps her putting up with you and your blinded actions."

Dregh knows who I am. She knows that my father is that man that her and so many others are after.

"And my oh my, King Kyril of Iduna, is she the little most sly little fox of them all, an oncoming storm just around the corner...and you have no idea what she means."