A Dragon's torture

Doubt and Trust

Trust is the foundation of every relationship. Without trust, love can't exist. Sometimes, all it takes is a moment to strengthen the faith between the two to the point where not even the darkness from the abyss can break it. others a single moment can destroy everything a couple has.

--Dragon Proverb--

Chapter Eleven

It was past midnight when Cyndrithil slowly crawled away from his sleeping mate. His body was exhausted from the day's events; however, his mind was wide awake with questions and doubts swirling like a hurricane in his mind.

He curled his claws inward, moving silently through the hallway. The others were sound asleep, including his son. But now, he wasn't sure if he wanted Ymerc.

"I used...an...enslavement spell." Ymerc's words echoed endlessly in Cyndrithil's skull, resentment and hatred joining the party.

Cyndrithil knew his son had used dark magic. When he first learned of Ymerc's past, he figured it would be something simple, like taking a wild animal's life for a spell. Never in a million did he think Ymerc had used enslavement magic.

There was nothing lower than enslavement magic--taking away a creature's free will. Cyndrithil needed to parse through these thoughts, but he couldn't bear to burden Ymithia. They had only spent days together, and already she was protective of Ymerc. Cyndrithil wished he could express that sentiment as well, but with this new information, he was beginning to doubt his previous enthusiasm.

Outside in the cool of night, Cyndrithil unfolded his wings. Then, with a mighty leap, he took flight and headed for Xithris's den across Dravawynn. The sound of air beneath his wings was a balm on his heavy heart.

Cyndrithil knew he had a long flight ahead of him, and morning would likely be here before he got back. His mate would wake, wondering where he went. He just hoped she didn't guess what he was doing when he did arrive at her side.

The moon continued its arc through the night, shadows lengthening along the ground as it progressed. While most dragons preferred to be awake during the day, he wasn't surprised to see some dragons out hunting, training, and practicing magic at this hour.

Ymithia still seemed to love the hatchling as much as before, if not more. That's why he was going to see Xithris. If anyone could understand him right now, it was him.

He couldn't quite explain it. Ever since the truth came out, it seemed like a fog had come over his mind, keeping him from thinking clearly. The only swirl of thought was his anger towards Ymerc, the unwillingness to forgive him.

"What am I going to do?" he said out loud, knowing no one was near enough to hear.

He wanted to go back and change his decision.

Down below, Xithris's den lay. Cyndrithil nose-dived, his secondary eyelids covering his eyes so he could see through the roaring winds that felt like a massage on his scales but hurt his eyes if it weren't for his nictitating membranes. His wings roared with strain when he opened them, the wind catching them like a parachute and sending him flying backward for a short moment, his stomach flying up into his throat before he landed hard, his legs shaking with the strain he had just put on them.

Maybe I should have slowed down a bit more before landing, he thought.

He stood at the entrance for a moment before releasing a brief gout of flame, sending the scent of his flames into the den. It was a dragon's way of asking for permission to enter. Each dragon could infuse its flames with its own scent that would tell a dragon who they were. It was better than yelling into a den asking for permission to enter. If they didn't receive an answer, they could wait or leave.