The Bloodmoon Society [2/12]

Chapter 22) Holding On

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[ Saturday April 8th, 2017 ]

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       It was a calm and quiet late evening in the Dragonlands, where the wind blew softly, waters were still, fires cracked and sizzled, and the mountains stood mighty. Crickets chirped in the royal gardens, the smell of flowers in the air, seeping in through open windows of the old castle. The garden of lilacs and roses was in full bloom, exploding in colors, illuminated by numerous garden lanterns, looking like specks of fireflies from up in the sky.

       On days like these Ovzu liked to lose himself in the flowers and foliage. Out in the wilderness was one of the few distractions that actually worked for him. The smell of the trees and nature, the hum of the crickets, the calling of frogs, the falling of the rain, the chirp of birds, out there among the trees he could forget any and all of his stresses and worries.

       Last Francis had checked, the leafy earth dragon was tending to the garden doing exactly that. Though now he could be seen sat on the cliff's edge, gazing out at the giant mountain that stood in the horizon. Francis shook his head, leaving the castle, going down the overgrown stone pathways.

       "Ovzu?" He said, voice gentle, though the dragon didn't even turn his head, nor acknowledge him. Francis got on the ground beside him. "Thinking again?"

       "Oh, when am I not?" Ovzu sighed in melancholy, laying down like a sad dog.

       "What's on your mind?"

       "Everything."

       "That's not a very helpful answer."

       "It's a true one, though." He lifted his head. "What do you want me to say? That I'm pondering everything that could ever be? Everything that could ever happen?"

       Francis brought a hand up to Ovzu's head, petting his horns, and he sighed. He knew what this was all about. "Ov, you need to let him go." He said softly.

       "You act like you don't care, France. Don't you care?" Ovzu said, despaired longing in his voice.

       "Of course I care. But I let Drago go a long, long time ago. I thought he died, so I moved on, expecting to never see him again. But you? You're holding onto a false hope that he'll come back one day. He's not going to come back. You need to let him go."

       "But... don't you miss him?"

       "Of course I do. I always do."

       "But what if... what if I stop caring? I can't— I can't—" He began getting choked up on his words. "I can't let him go. I promised him— I promised—"

       Francis put his head on his shoulders as he wrapped his arms around him, "Drago wouldn't want you to be caught up in missing him, you know. I know that he would want you to stop worrying about him, or missing him, and be happy." He sadly laughed a bit, "Even if you went ahead and got married or something, he would still want you to move on. He was so selfless. It makes me so mad when people try to say he was a narcissist, or egotistical. He was just confident. He was also a sweetheart. He would know that more than anyone else, right? You know him just as well as I do. If Drago DID come back, do you think he'd be upset that you spent all day everyday staring at that mountain waiting for him?"

       "Yeah... you're— you're right, Fran. I know you're right, but... I just— I just... can't. Everything started falling apart after he left. You went here to see everything that happened, you didn't—" He choked up, holding back sobs, "you didn't see the fear. The sadness. It all happened so fast. In just a few months everything crumbled. It was the group longing of not only the Dragons, but the entire Shadow Realm. He was the only leader we had left. He wasn't just the King of the Dragonlands. He was the Shadow Realm's hero. Its beacon of light in the Darkness. He was everyone's King, and when he left, so did the unity we all had. It went from everyone's Realm to everyone for themself. And now— With the vampires and the werewolves— the dividing of the realms... I'm scared, Fran. I'm so scared. I need him back. We need him back. Everyone."