The Dragon King's Servant: Rise of the Daemon King

Chapter Twenty-Six: Heart Ache

General Fenton's expression of smug underhanded jibes had fallen away to reveal utter fear and regret. Not only had he insulted the queen, he had used the king's death as a weapon to emotionally destabilize Melanie. She was not emotionally unstable and she knew what he hadn't. Now that he knew what she did, General Fenton's whole plan came crashing down.

"M-m-my lord!" Fenton stammered. "Y-you are alive. This is fantastic!"

Lucian said nothing as he strode across the room to stand before Fenton who looked both anxious and elated.

"Look into my eyes, General. Show me what it is that you desired." Lucian's deep voice carried a power that seemed to sink into Fenton's very soul.

His pupils widened until nearly all the color of his iris was gone. Like a doorway being opened, Lucian stepped inside of the General's mind. Unlike on previous occasions where he saw sneak peaks of a person's soul and mind. Lucian found himself staring at the full thing. He saw three mirrors lined up, one next to the other. Each showed stilled images of Fenton doing something different but when he looked at the mirrors straight on, the stilled images moved.

The first mirror showed Fenton being drowned in more gold than even the kingdom had to offer. The second mirror showed him sitting at the top of power. Ruling in a place that he would never be able to reach. The last mirror showed him commanding armies to do as he bid with a simple flick of a finger. The implications were plain to see. It was obvious what the general was all about. Lucian blinked his eyes and the soul gaze was disconnected.
General Fenton fell into an unfocused haze for a moment before he righted himself.

"Greed. Power. Control." Lucian stated. "For a man who sits at the rank he does and still desires more-" Lucian shook his head with disappointment. "-you sent the men responsible for support, a critical role no less and you sent them to die. Just so that you could feel in charge? Glorified?"

Fenton cringed, the whites of his knuckles showing like embers in a fire.

"Support?" He spat the word like it was a curse. "I am meant to lead armies and forces. I am meant to sweep through enemy lines. Not dole out the last moments of death to the wounded and dying."

Melanie sighed and all eyes shifted to her.

"Fenton. It is those last moments of death that deal the most damage and protect the most people. A wounded tiger is not a dead one." She said. "An injured enemy is not a felled one. The support unit is there to ensure that our front line forces don't get stabbed in the back by a sword thought dead."

"It is an important role. One that bears the same, if not more responsibility than those on the advancing line." Lucian continued, picking up where Melanie left off. "A responsibility that you squandered."

"I-I I can do better." Fenton replied, urgency and hope in his voice.

"And perhaps you could have. Had you not put the lives of so many before your own." Melanie said. "General Fenton of the support ops. You are hereby removed from your position. I expect your belongings in the Eastern hall, removed by tomorrow." She declared, voice cold as ice.

*****

Shauna walked down the street wearing something she hadn't anticipated wearing for several more months. The long traditional robe that had been a style worn by the Drakkon family was nothing if not flashy. It had high shoulders with a dipping cleavage line that showed off her large bosom. The front and back of the robe were black with orange details styled in the form of a serpentine dragon. The sides of the robe split up to her knee, orange clasps held the rest of the dress in place.

The flat shoes she wore were completely different from her boots she wore on the field. Shauna didn't enjoy dressing up feminine often, however, for the sake of courtship it seemed appropriate. All eyes were on her as she made her way down the busy market streets. No one in the city could have looked away from Shauna. She was a curvaceous woman with the strong walk and upper build of her father. Her short cropped hair hung down on one side while the other was trimmed short.

Shauna slowed her pace when she came up to the tailoring and forge shop. The stone building was as old as some of the original founding structures. It had been modified a few times but it stood out against the new styles of buildings surrounding it. Shauna drew in a deep breath before walking in. The first floor of the shop was the forge. Dark stone over clay and earth. The walls were all hooks and racks, filled with a variety of weapons and gear that looked top quality.

It had been the need for armor which had originally brought Shauna to the shop. While she could have gone to the royal armory, she wanted a set all of her own.  At the time she had not been searching for anything else. However, she had walked out of the shop that day with more than just armor. The front desk was empty of any attendance. The only sign of anyone being in the store at all was from the sound of hammers on anvils.

Shauna moved around the desk and pushed past the thick magically reinforced curtain. The armory workshop was nothing terribly fancy but it did have the quantity. Three forging stations, each with their own furnace, anvil and tools to bend and shape the metal into design. Of the three people working the forges, the largest of them stopped in mid-swing and looked at Shauna. He had dark blue skin, pale blue hair that was short and trimmed. The thick attire he wore hid the rest of his body from sight.

Unlike his daughter who was half Selkie, he was full Selkie. Shauna was taller than him but not by much.

"She is upstairs." He said, voice gruff. "Lady Drakkon. While I mean no disrespect." He leveled his blue eyes at her, a warning in his stare. "Should you hurt my daughter..." he tightened his grip on the hammer, causing his fish-like scales to crease.

Shauna felt that familiar rise in her senses. The kind that happened when battle was near. She pushed it down, reasoning that he was only acting on fatherly instinct. She drew in a deep breath and as it left her lungs, the magmatic energy coursing through her veins lit up like tiny channels of lava. Her skin darkened and her eyes brightened. The intense heat that fumed off her body matched the heat necessary to melt high steel ingots.

He took a step back, wary of the intent she held at his obviously aggressive threat. He bowed his head.

"I apologize princess." He replied.