The Devil Meets the Draxon

4. My Future is my Own

*They've grown so much,* the king whispered, orange eyes watching the pale white body despite knowing there would be no answer. *It's only been seven years since... I wish you could see them... They're powerful and they're beautiful.*

Nyxeus fell silent. The cold body of his sister lay in front of him, her pale scales illuminated by the torches around the room.

A stab of pain struck the elder's chest as a wave of depression hit him. She would never see the dragonets. She would never see how much they'd grown or how strong they'd become. She would never be with him again.

But she could have.

The king's eyes snapped open at that. When had he closed them?

Anger stirred in his heart. She could be there. She didn't have to die. She wouldn't have, if it wasn't for them.

A soft growl passed Nyxeus' lips. He turned from the room, hearing the hidden stone door slide closed, becoming hidden once again. He stalked silently down the moonlit halls of his palace, one destination and one thought in mind.

It was their fault. They were the reason she was no longer there. They were the reason he didn't have his sister anymore. If it weren't for them, she would still be there. She wouldn't have needed to die. He wouldn't have to miss her if she were still there.

It was their fault.

He slipped inside their room silently, thirteen forms sprawled on the bed. All sleeping. All vulnerable. The anger in the king's heart flared seeing them. They slept peacefully as if they weren't the reason his sister was gone. As if they weren't the reason his soul ached every moment that passed.

Nyxeus crept forward towards the one he knew would put up the most fight, Skeletii. The dragonet was also the lightest sleeper, sometimes he didn't sleep at all during the night and instead slept during the day. The bone white dragonet was asleep at the moment and he didn't stir as the king crept closer.

The elder lifted the dragonet's head, being careful not to wake him. Nyxeus' muscles tensed, ready to give the sharp twist necessary. He looked down at the sleeping creature, the white scales cool and smooth against his palm. Skeletii's body was relaxed and peaceful yet the king could hear the dragonet's laughter and joyful voice ringing in his ears.

Those orange eyes glanced from the dragonet at his feet to the others lying around him. All peaceful, relaxed and asleep. Their thoughts seemed to reach out for him and he gave in, stretching out his magic and seeing the dreams of the sleeping creatures.

As he did, the anger on his heart lifted and vanished, leaving a feeling of horror behind. He gently released the oldest dragonet's head and stepped back, his eyes wide as images flashed through his mind conjured by both his horror and the dragonets' dreams.

The beach. Ocean waves lapping at the sand.

Blood spraying the sand and staining it red. His own talons shining crimson.

A sunny green meadow. Racing through the grass.

A dark, desolate field, grass torn and bloodied.

The warm halls of the palace. Home.

Thirteen bodies piled around the throne he rested on. Horror.

His body and mind both felt weak. Tears fell down his cheeks as his head shook.

*No,* he whispered to himself. *No no no no.*

The king fell to his knees, his body shaking with suppressed cries. He didn't have the strength to move so he let himself lie there on the floor of the dragonets' room, trying to remain silent so as to not wake the creatures nearby.