Legacy's Prince

Chapter Thirty-Four: Heroes

The week rolls by at a lazy pace. I'm able to go to sleep as early as I want, and lay in bed for hours after waking, watching the sunlight stream through my window without the worry of responsibilities.

Instead I worry about the numerous mysteries surrounding me. Once again, one answer led to several more questions. The Red Brotherhood was involved, that much is now clear, but they couldn't have worked alone. In their inception they were the special police for the kings of Palob. So perhaps the giants were responsible for the dragon holder's disappearance?

Yet one of the many userpers to the Palobian throne disbanded the Red Brotherhood from royal work after their ascent to power. They have been working as mercenaries, assassins for hire ever since.

If the genocide happened seven-hundred years ago, or earlier, before the Red Brotherhood was disbanded from the royal family, then it was probably the giants. If it happened after that time period, though, it could be anyone.

But how am I supposed to find out when it happened? It's not like the attackers left a date and signature on their destruction.

Come.

I groan as Zahairas' voice rings in my head. Though the entire academy is closed Zahairas, per usual, cares little about what others are doing and insists that I continue my training.

I roll out of my bed and reluctantly dress.

While my abilities are improving, the progress is painfully slow, not helped by the ever looming threat of a flashback.

Of all the familiars I could have gained, why did I have one who's magic reminds me of that day?

Stepping into the mid-morning sun, I make my way to the greenhouse, mine and Zahairas' now regular meeting place.

I find the purple dragon lounging lazily over the orchard wall, soaking up the fresh rays of sun. Upon seeing me, though, he rises, jumping to the ground and stretching. He lowers his neck, and I climb on for a ride to where the cave paintings stand.

Neither of us say a word throughout the whole journey. What is there to say? It's a dull, grating routine at this point. The one part of my school life I haven't been able to escape.

Heat.

The command comes before I've even slipped off his back and to the ground. I shoot a glare in Zahairas' direction.

"Can you at least give me a moment to breathe?"

No.

"I hate you."

I don't care.

I roll my eyes and press my lip into a tight line. Thin white lines slither through the air and into my palm, leaving icy chills behind them. A small, pulsating ball of white energy forms in my palm.

Good. Now move it.

At my dragon's command, I concentrate. The ball raises from my hand and begins to float towards the wall. My jaw tightens as I concentrate, trying to block out all my worries and fear. My vision blurs.

And I'm back there.

I'm back to that day when Nicholai died.

The day the assassins were reduced to ash.

The day when I fell through the ground into the dragon's cavern.

The day I accidently burned Seana.

The day I never really saw. The day all the dragon holders died.

The instant once scene ends, another begins, a nonstop cycle of torment and helplessness.